Before I even clicked on the link I thought surely this figure is fabricated. It HAS to be wrong. There is no way this could be the correct percentage. Have the misquoted it and substituted the work “Sex” for “Wine”?(Ha! I wouldn’t give THAT up – no way) I skipped to the comments and most readers were outraged – WHO in their right mind would give up sweet, beautiful, heart-wrenchingly gorgeous, orgasmicly sexy leeeervemaking with your soulmate every night for weekly cyberspace?? I felt guilty – really guilty. Maybe there was something awfully wrong with me? Then as I was reading I noticed two things.
1. The survey had been done with Cosmopolitan readers
2. You only had to give up sex for a WEEK– seriously, a week, what’s the big deal? I am lucky to even HAVE sex in a given week!
It was then I relaxed. I wasn’t a freak. I wasn’t abnormal or depraved. I just wasn’t a 20 something single looking for Mr Right and having a fine time finding him or in a honeymoon period with my new awesomely sexy partner.
I was MARRIED….
Hell – If it had been a survey of New Parenting Magazine it would have been 90% – and that’s being optimistic. Because lets face it – sleep deprived mothers of young children are (or should I say our husbands are) lucky to be getting sex once a week anyway.
I prefer my sex to be without both the perfume of Le Infante Vomitte and the dulcet tones of Go Diego Go in the background, with children both asleep in their own bed and in the sweet knowledge that afterwards I can turn out the light and know that there is still at least
6 hours until I need to be out of bed again. Who can laugh out loud with me? Im not afraid to admit it – once a week (maybe twice if a lie-in
is involved) sex – nice sex, sweet sex is the norm in my bedroom just not the sort of mind blowing sex you had before kids. Its hard to motivate your brain when you are a sleep deprived zombie who has been puked on for most the day.
As a SAHM, facebook is my window into another world – one where I can live vicariously through my friends and go to pubs, child-free shopping trips and Thailand holidays. That glimpse in the window keeps me grounded in a world of tantying toddlers, irrational babies and helps me not go crazy in a house that no matter what I do, is never, never tidy. I fear for my sanity if I have to go without. Seriously. There is only so much Postman Pat you can take without some form of adult intervention, even if it is in cyberspace.
It reminds me that I am not alone in a sea of nappies, dinosaurs, lego and snotty tissues and that other are doing the hard yards too. It allows me to hold out hope that it WILL get better and I will eventually get to a place where sex may even happen on a thrice weekly basis.
I might be able to get out the edible undies – if they’re not out of date.
My husband is counting on it
’til next time,
PS – my husband wanted me to tell you please don’t get the wrong idea about him and that he totally rocks at sex – there is something wrong with me apparently
PPS – it is my theory that doing the dishes is a form of foreplay that more husbands should employ. There is NOTHING sexier when you are dead tired and ready to collapse between the sheets at 7pm than the sight of your husband doing the dishes. Guaranteed sex every time