Tuesday, January 11, 2011

How Babies Are Like Birth Control

After the 6th day of January, after the baby woke up for the tenth time between 8pm and 11pm, Husband said:
"We're never going to have sex again."
I'm pretty sure he meant that in a despaired way, not a "let's avoid having kids ever again" way.

Still, this baby is probably even better birth control than abstinence. He seems to know right when I'm interested in any of the S words: sex, sleep, and sleep.

He wakes up, you pick him up, he fusses, and after much annoyance, he goes to sleep. You put him down and then you do the hokey pokey all over again.

Right now the baby and husband are asleep on the couch. Waking him doesn't sound completely sane, right?

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Physical Attraction and Choice

We decided it was a nice enough day to take a walk with the family.
Apparently it was a nice enough day to run into some scantily clad sun bathers.

I watched my husband to see if he had any reaction when we passed one particularly curvaceous girl.

I don't think he noticed me watching him. He did not turn or look in her direction at all, but did not appear to be purposely avoiding her either. I certainly was looking. A lot. Jealously, even.

After this second baby I haven't done much to try to be attractive. The weight gain wouldn't be as much as an issue if I hadn't also just let any interest in dressing in anything other than lounge wear (and not the sexy kind) fall by the wayside. Sometimes I wear things I know do not accentuate the right aspects of my body. And I don't really care. I have never worn much make up and I don't even own any sort of curling iron.

Maybe it wouldn't matter if I was not married to a particularly attractive man. He does not flaunt his good looks and physique, luckily for me. He is just a very active person and is blessed. Probably because he was an awkward adolescent, he has never used his looks to his advantage. I never believed that girls were aggressive when it came to men until I knew him. They will stare and honk and try to catch his eye. He is only gruff and unresponsive when it comes to female attention that is not me. And I don't think I'm being naive here. He is a good man.

Thinking about all of this made me feel a bit guilty. I've gotten comfortable. I take things for granted. Looking good for him is the least of it. I know that the less I think of myself, physically, the less I believe that he is interested in me, despite all he does to show that he is. He has never shied away from my physical imperfections--quite the opposite, in fact. After several years of marriage I am still surprised by it.

I often realize that if he were not sexually interested in me I would be devastated. I am sometimes annoyed by his advances but really, if the tables were turned I would feel unloved.

He must feel unloved at times. It isn't fair at all.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Lighting Fireworks with Wet Matches

When I decided to sincerely try to improve my physical relationship with my husband this year, I didn't think I'd break that promise on New Years Eve night.

 It started with the festivities after dinner. I was playing games at a neighbor's house and assumed that my youngest had retired for the night. Right in the middle of a crucial moment for my team my husband showed up with the little one and said, "He's hungry," in an accusatory tone. Probably the worst thing a nursing mother can do is let their child go hungry. It is always a nursing mother's fault. 

But I knew the kid wasn't hungry. Everyone except for the nursing mother attributes any sort of fussiness on a baby's part to hunger. This probably helps relieve the person who is having a difficult time giving a cranky child comfort. I took the baby, anyway, and left my team in the lurch. 

After I put the baby to sleep again I stepped outside to check out the fireworks. My husband is not into the "festivities" concerning any holiday, so I brooded over his unwillingness to give into social constructs on astronomically assigned dates. 

I guess you could say I wasn't in the mood. 

I will probably say this many times this year, but I will say it anyway, now: I wish it wasn't about mood for me. I wish I could turn off the part of my brain that says how I feel right now has everything to do with pleasure later. 

Somehow sensing the disruption in our galaxy clock reset, or probably just being awoken by the loud booms of aerial fireworks bent on claiming the wee New Years' hours, our children's restlessness and random crying out for comfort completely ruined any chance at personal fireworks anyway. 

What this blog is about

I've been married for several years.

We've never figured out the sex thing.

I mean, we have two kids, and we definitely have sex, but how much and all the rest of that is almost always an issue for us. Mostly, I just don't like it that much and although I love him, a lot, my interest in physical affection has more to do with cuddling and kissing than climax. (Although I can, and do, and like it, just so we get that straight.)

It's a pretty constant tension in our marriage, unfortunately. I was surprised to learn (even though I definitely had "hints" of it with previous boyfriends, and when I say "hints" I mean I am a total ignoramus in the face of obvious evidence) that our needs are somewhat different and mine are much more complicated emotionally. I think this is a stereotype in gender but many women I know have this problem.

I often resolve to recommit myself to figuring this whole deal out. But it's hard. We have two kids, we both work, and time, space, and desire are not always the easiest things to work out.

I've read a lot about sex and relationships, because I'm always trying to educate myself about it, and generally I would say that sex in marriage is pretty important. Definitely too important to ignore.

This year my new year's resolution is to have sex with my husband as often as possible and to figure. it. out.

That's what this blog is about.

If you are offended by any of that, I suggest you stop reading now.
But here's the deal.

1) I am keeping the whole thing anonymous. I will change details/names/etc to keep our identities secret.
2) my husband knows I'm blogging about it but he doesn't read it.
3) I blog about it because I need to process. I am a big processor. I'm a reflective person and I don't expect I'll ever get better unless I'm processing.
4) I keep things clean. Of course I'm telling you intimate details of my life, but I'm married, religious, and this is not designed to be anything but therapeutic. Whatever details there are will be because I'm a frank and open person, but vague unless the details are relevant.