Ok, let’s get this over with so we’re all comfortable. Say it with me:
Penis, penis, penis.
Vagina, vagina, vagina.
We probably won’t be reading too many of those words in this post, but it broke the ice, no?
I should also clarify that this post should really be called ‘Sex and babies/small children’ but that has an alarmingly illegal ring to it.
And for all you people that are happily married, with or without young kids, that are still doing it more than once a fortnight, keep walking because we don’t want your smug-awesome-sexlife-self here…
But for the rest of you, amiright??
Now, if you personally know me, you’ll know that on a scale of nun to priest, I am an extremely nun-level prude and get embarrassed very easily about such topics, but for you, my blog friends, I’m willing to go there.
Don’t worry, the Husband doesn’t read my blog, but if you’re reading honey, I love you and I can’t wait to see you and your penis again in the next few years.
The Husband and I have been together for 13 years (whaaaat??) and before we were married, like every couple, we had our sexual ups and downs, but generally speaking, we had a healthy relationship.
Don’t we look, young and rested and happy and free?
And then we got married, traveled Europe for 6 weeks with our best friends, A.K.A. the Buddymoon, and when we got back we gained reason number 1 that sex and marriage are nearly impossible…
On our return home, I fell pregnant faster that I could sneeze.
Do you know what sex is like in the first three months of pregnancy?
Spewy. Not fun.
Do you know what it’s like for the next three months?
What about the third trimester?
You’re heavier, it’s weirder, the baby is kicking you, there are just too many people involved.
And what about the fourth trimester? You know, the trimester where the baby should have come but didn’t and so now you’re eating chilli and jumping up and down and trying to locate your vagina so you could do the dirty deed to get that baby the hell out of there?
Yea, that’s not that fun either.
But then you give birth! And it’s an experience that cannot be explained unless it’s lived. The feelings coursing through you are so amazing, so spectacular, so fucking painful.
I mean, the baby is sweet but it’s ripping your nipples apart and things are swollen and bigger than ever before. Remember that time we spoke about the postpartum changes?
So the conditions aren’t exactly screaming sex-fest.
3. Co-sleeping with the enemy
Then you get to know your kid and co-sleeping becomes a thing, the baby moves into bed with you and well, that isn’t the prime situation for intimacy. Between the adults. The baby loves it though, thrives on all the contact, she is all about having a parent any which way she turns.
And neither of you want to kick the baby out of bed because the love you feel is just beyond anything, and there’s no better feeling in the world than watching your child sleep with it’s chubby little face and lips and fingers and toes.
So you two get by on the occasional wave and hello and boob grab.
4. Second kid
Just as things were getting their groove back and kitchen sex was re-introduced (because why not and also our bed was taken up by a sleeping infant) you decide it’s time for round two. Mission ‘Get the baby inside me’ provides some much needed banging for the purpose of reproducing.
Which is great, even if a little forced, because refer back to point number 1 for all the fun sex pregnancy will allow you.
And then there were two:
5. Romance? What romance?
Candles, roses, massages, toe-sucking – who’s got the time? Honestly, romance between the hours of 8:30pm when the older kid has gone to sleep and 9:30pm when the younger kid wakes up, is a little rich, don’t you think?
Women need romance, men most definitely do not, but I personally need to be in the right mood. I need to have the right head space to make a move, otherwise all I want is peace and quiet and to be left the fuck alone after wrangling two kids for most of the day.
And it pains me that that doesn’t leave much for the Husband and I really do try and make an effort to get to sex-goddess status at least once in a while because everyone needs love and if they don’t get it at home, there are plenty of strippers earning their rent money from all the unloved husbands looking for attention. And blow jobs.
Our sex life will come back, right?
So to conclude, I’m sure in two, three years time, I’ll get to have relaxed, uninterrupted, alone time with my husband, right? This can’t last too long? All we really need to get to is both kids going to sleep at a decent time. In their own bed.
I’ll keep you updated (unless the Husband suddenly starts reading my blog and veto’s any future posts – but I doubt it, my blog doesn’t trend on Reddit).
Stay sexy and don’t get murdered everyone (murderinos, holla at me!),