"It's true, it's one of the secrets that no one ever tells you. I would sit around with my girlfriends who have kids - and, actually, my one girlfriend who has kids, Alice - and she would complain about how she and Gary never did it anymore. She didn't even complain about it, now that I think about it. She just said it matter-of-factly. She said they were up all night, they were both exhausted all the time, the kids just took every sexual impulse they had out of them. " - Sally, from When Harry Met Sally
Is it a secret? Really? Isn't one of the things people joke about after you tell them you are expecting your first child is that along with sleep, and eating a hot meal simultaneously as a couple, sex will become one of those things you only get to do when you are away from the kids for the night? Once I was walking evidence of the sex I was having with my husband, I was afraid we might not actually ever have it again. I would look at people who had multiple children and wonder, if everyone moves to Chastity Town after their first kid, how did they ever procreate again? How did The Old Woman Who Lived in the Shoe do it?
Then I had my baby and it all became clear. When it comes to sex after kids, there are various stages and there is a definite sweet spot.
Stage One is the "Are You Fucking Kidding Me?" Stage. This phase usually lasts for the first eight to ten weeks post-partum. Use what ever euphemism you'd like, shitting a bowling ball seems to be a favorite, but I think, the sentence , "I just passed a human head out of my vagina." is enough to convey the painful physics involved in childbirth and the reluctance a woman may feel to put anything else in there for a while afterwards. In my own case, I was kept blissfully unaware of the damage #1's giant noggin had done to my lady bits until I was preparing for #2's birth and the doctor, reviewing the notes from my last delivery, murmured, "third degree tear, but rectum intact". Well. Thank God for small favors.
Luckily, women are put in a medically-induced chastity belt for the first six weeks after birth. So our poor husbands, many of whom have not had any sex in the last few months, know not to even bother trying. Once I was medically cleared though, I felt like H was envisioning me as a turkey with those little paper hats on its drumsticks, like a starving cartoon character. So with leaking breasts and barely having stopped wearing maternity pants, women reenter the world of intercourse. There are two liquids that make this possible - wine and lube. I don't know how women with no access to either of these ever get back in the sack. The wine is to get your head out of mommy-mode, wondering when the baby will next wake and want to use your breasts for their intended function. And the lube? See above: but rectum intact.
Once you get over the hurdle that is your first time post-partum, things can pretty much get back to normal. I can hear the collective gasps of disbelief. "What? Aren't you so exhausted from having a baby to care for that you can't even think about sex?" Nope, now you enter Stage Two, the "Mr. Sandman is my Pimp" Stage.
When your kids are under the age of three, they sleep a lot. Or they should at least - my apologies to anyone who has had a sleep-challenged baby. Most kids sleep about twelve hours a night, giving parents an hour or two on either end to chose to go at it. H and I would get #1 to sleep at seven, and crack open a bottle of wine, knowing we could have drinks, dinner, and fool around , without having to stay up past ten. And naptime? That is God's gift to parents on weekends. The person who wrote the song "Afternoon Delight" was clearly the parent of small children. The other bonus of having little kids is that for the first few years they are prisoners in those tiny baby jails called cribs, so there are no nocturnal wanderings to worry about. And once they do graduate to a bed, they are such dopes any unfortunate interruptions can be pawned off as "Mommy and Daddy were playing" without any psychological harm. Typically, Stage Two is when most siblings are conceived. Having had three babies in five years, I am living proof. This makes sense, and this stage is useful if you plan on having multiple kids. But you better hurry up because Stage Three is coming. The "I Left My Mojo on the Soccer Field" Stage.
Feel free to insert an activity your kids partake in regularly, football, dance, piano lessons, but once your kids reach school age your sex life become a logistical nightmare. In Stage Three, you are on the go all the time, so not only are you never home, but naps are clearly a thing of the past. Daytime booty is out for the most part, unless, Like H and I, you "clean the attic" a lot while the kids play Wii for half an hour. As for the evenings, your children are staying up later. The grown-up portion of the evening used to start at the dot of seven. Now, come nine o'clock, you are finishing up Teen Beach Movie on Disney channel, while trying to keep your own eyes open after twelve hours of carting your kids to various activities. Once you do get the progeny off to bed, they are fully mobile and capable of rational thought, so being walked in on becomes a real issue. Or maybe that's just us. We live in an old house with no bedroom locks and my husband is not handy. I should tell him a few hours at Home Depot might improve his life drastically. Anyway, they may not know what sex is exactly, but they know you're not "having a tickle fight" anymore. And sleepovers? Forget it. It's hard enough to have sex with your own kids in the house. I have been firmly stuck in Stage Three and will be for a while now, with Little Man just having turned six. You become like the Macgyvers of intercourse, quick and resourceful. It's not always pretty, but it gets the job done.
I know there must other stages. Like Stage Four, the "Quick Let's Do It Before We Have to Pick Them Up From the Mall" Stage, when all of our kids have various evening activities that will give us a few precious hours alone. And Stage Five, the "We Are Finally Alone Again!" Stage, when everyone goes off to college. I know we'll get there some day. My fear is we will be suffering from some of these age-related sexual conditions vaguely referred to in pharmaceutical ads. But then again, that's what the meds are for.
I have said before, these are the years you have to fight to defend your marriage from the assault of family life, and your sex life is part of that. Keeping a strong connection may take some creativity, and require your last bit of energy, but isn't your partner worth it? Sure, there are plenty of times one of you is too tired, or not in the mood, and certain instances of charity occur, but keeping the fires burning with those small sparks, keeps the flame form going out entirely, and allows it to flare up on those rare occasions you do find yourselves alone in a hotel room. OK, I'm done with the fire metaphor. It's getting a little weird.
For those of you in Stage Two, enjoy it while it lasts. Consider yourself informed, Sally.
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