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11/8/12

There WIll Be No Sex In The Champagne Room

This Week's Theme Thursday topic is How Kid's Ruin Your Sex Life.  Since I am knocked up and as big as the Hindenburg one would think, I got this one.  But after all the political hullabaloo the last few days, I have the personality farts.  And  maybe some writer's block.  So I thought I would Google it to get some inspiration. 

Turns out this is a topic of great concern for both sexes.  Guys Google things like "Is it true that sex ends after having kids because girls are tired, or is it just an excuse not to screw anymore?"  While women Google things like "How long should we wait before we try to be intimate again after having a baby?".  Both questions are basically asking this: "Did I just sell my condo in pleasure town by having a child"?

As you may know from last week's 10 Things I Wish I Knew Before I Got Pregnant post, I used to shag a lot.  A LOT.  When my husband and I got together we were grad students (i.e. unemployed, often intoxicated, with no real responsibilities except rent and the occasional taco). So we had a lot of time on our hands.  And we used it to our best ability.  Plus we really hated the neighbors below us and got a kick out of the fact that the place was built like a Japanese paper house.  Tell me to turn down the TV; that's not the TV, Jerkface!

But things changed dramatically once we got pregnant.  Suddenly my husband would have none of it.  NONE.  OF.  IT.  He was far too aware of the fact that there was someone else in the room now, and that was just not his bag.  I suppose this is normal; irrational and stupid, but normal.

On the other hand, I was on high sex alert. You can't help it.  Why God does this, I do not know.  Dudes get all creeped out, while women finally experience what it must be like to be a pubescent boy.

.......
And then you go into labor and your idiot husband decides it would be a cool idea to take a peek at what's going on at the end of the table that is causing his maiden to verbally act out scenes from Full Metal Jacket.  WRONG MOVE, BUDDY!  That is a picture you can NEVER take back.  Never, never, never, never.  And your manhood does the only thing it knows how to do in dangerous, threatening situations... hide. 

Once all the blood, and guts, and carnage is cleaned-up, and your husband has been revived by one of the hot nurses who helped get your beached-whale ass through this disaster, you are ecstatic that you both are still alive.  And then you take your bundle of joy in your arms and they tell you, you can't have sex for 6 weeks.  To which you respond, "You expect me to do this again? Are you kidding me?  Did you see what just went on here?  I have already called Amnesty International about this shit, and I expect reparations."

........
After a while the dust settles and you are back home, and you get into your new routine.  That routine consists of waking up every two and a half hours to a screaming child who wails just like a foghorn right next to your bed.  And because you get no sleep, you don't even care about your mangy appearance.  What was once "Bed Head" in a sexy way is now "Mess Head" in a freakish, you must be a hoarder, kind of way.  You will find yourself wearing the same shirt for three days, regardless of what brand of nasty has been plopped on it.  And you don't care, because you are still just thankful to be alive.  Meanwhile, your husband is doing everything he can to pretend he is invisible so you don't rip his balls off in your maniacal, hormone induced, sleep deprived state of bat crap crazy.

Oh yeah, I see a date night on the horizon.

Things normalize a bit once you have learned how to survive on diet coke and pixie sticks and have trained your body like a Navy SEAL to function for six days on three hours of sleep.  At this point, your doctor will tell you you're all clear to have sex.  Then you will picture yourself punching her in the ovaries.

.......
Eventually, the time will come when you will actually want to do the deed.  This is usually after some big event, like getting out of jail or winning the lottery.  Both of which provide an opportunity for  consuming copious amounts of champagne, and neither are a likely to occur in your lifetime.

And to be honest, it's kind of scary and you get all nervous, like you've never been on that merry go round before (and like you don't have the stretch marks to prove it).  So once you have been properly motivated, you get back on the proverbial horse and realize, 'this ain't so bad after all'.  And just as you are finally starting to get into it, you look over and see your 3 year old standing there in a state of mortification, talking about, "Daddy... what are you doing to mommy?"

It is during this brief moment that you realize God has spoken, and he has said,

"There will be no sex in the champagne room".

 And then there isn't.



This post was inspired by Theme Thursday.  You can check out what other mommas think about sex after kids here, at Cloudy, With a Chance Of Wine.

21 comments:

  1. Oh, dear god, no! He LOOKED? WHY WOULD HE LOOK???

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    1. I know! Dumbass! It left a lasting memory that took years to get over. Now he does his part making sure to pass on the horrors to ANY man who is even contemplating getting involved in a sexual relationship. He hopes to make a difference in the world this way ;)

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  2. Never every look. My husband looked but I had a c-section so that's not so bad...but never ever look there.

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    1. Oh man! I don't know what would be worse... I've never had a C-section, I've never even seen one in a video (I skipped my birthing classes... I decided I didn't want to know what went on). I think either would be an awful sight. Thank goodness our heads are not anywhere near our nethers.

      Thanks for stopping by!!

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  3. Absolutely brilliant, hilarious! So funny.

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    1. Awww, thanks ;) It's just the truth (sort of, ;)

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  4. For F&%*'s sake! I love the way you write. Some days I still long for a life that involved nothing more than the occasional taco ;) Seriously great post!

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    1. Thanks Jen!! I do too. I just wanna sit around, and watch Soprano's re-runs and eat Jack in The Box. But alas, I had sex once, so now I have to take care of another life. It is not fair!!!

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  5. Stay at the top of the bed where you belong!

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    1. Hi Kevin! You are clearly sensitive to the plight of the lady folk, and for that, I thank you for stopping by. ;)

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    1. Hi Jules! Thanks for stopping by! And I'm glad I could make you laugh. I see you have a blog called "My Mom Is A Whack Job". Clearly, we can be friends ;)

      Come back again for another cup of crazy!

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  7. You are so right about being stupid-horny while pregnant. Luckily for me, my husband was able to look beyond my preggo bod! In fact, I'm pretty sure it's what caused me to go into labor ON MY DUE DATE!
    Loved the post, keep 'em, cumming...yeah, I just grossed myself out there too- sorry!

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    1. With my second we were like crazy animals that had been caged up too long. With this one, not so much. I think it may be because we had #2 and now are too damn tired. Or lazy.

      And I'd say you're gross, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Even if it is alone. (Okay, my M-I-L reads this.. TMI).

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  8. I crave and miss tacos sometimes. And if I weren't so tired from chasing the twins I would make my own damn tacos. And I'm not being euphemistic here.

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    1. Hilarious!! Thanks for stopping by! I'm going to blogstalk you now ;)

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  9. OMG, this is HILARIOUS!!! You are so right - I was SO horny when I was pregnant, but The Hubs was just not interested. It sucked. Funny enough, I think I was only one of a few women who couldn't WAIT for my 6-week check-up to be over and done with so we could jump in the sack again. But it just isn't the same when you can't be spontaneous, is it?

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    1. I actually was like that with number 2, but not 1 or this one. I don't know what the difference is. No wait, I do. Zebra Cakes. I didn't eat them with number 2. Damn those Zebra Cakes to hell!!

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  10. This is absolutely hysterical! I love your writing style. So spot on about husbands losing interest. Not only are they aware you have company, they're busy thinking they're gonna poke a little eye out. And my husband looked too. Not only did he look, he was like freaking Bob Costas with the play by play. "And here comes the head! The uterus looks like a pillow...The baby's out! Score!"

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    1. OMG, I laughed so hard at your comment! Men should have to sign a waiver and disclosure before entering the delivery room. We ditched out on our birthing classes, so when the time came he was trying to coach me in breathing without having any clue what he was doing. I thought he was telling me to shhhh. You can imagine how that went down.
      Thanks for stopping by!!

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  11. I just laughed out loud and had to read the whole post to my husband since they were all looking at me funny while spelling out the specific parts so my kids wouldn't hear.

    I ended up with emergency c-sections with mine which was fantastic as my husband was watching the entire procedure making horrific painful expressions the whole time he watched (even after I demanded he stop watching or figure out how to control his facial emotions.) and when our oldest son came out I asked, "Is he ok? What does he look like." The Husband's response, "Uh yeah. He looks like Frankenstein."

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