whined complained mentioned yesterday on twitter how I found myself suffering from the dreaded “writer’s block”, and it had been almost a week since my last post. One blogger and fellow tweeter took pity on me and sent me a link to something called “Theme Thursday”.
I suddenly felt inspired! I don’t have time to read every blog, every week like I wish I could, so I have to be selective…especially during the week. I try to catch up on all my favorites on weekends, but it can get overwhelming. I try to read one or two before I go to bed each night, and I always like to end my day with something funny. I love finding the funny. The blogger/tweeter who gave me this great idea for a post today, also happens to be redonkulously funny, whether she’s tweeting or blogging, she’s making me laugh. Please check her out, follow her blog, find her on twitter/Facebook…I promise you will not be disappointed! Would I lie? Well…not usually. Listen, just click the link, you won’t be sorry.
What? Oh, right…the link!
She was the lucky chosen one who got my Secret Subject Swap, and it’s awesomesauce! Read it here. And because I’m feeling like a linky whore today, read the full list of Secret Subject Swap entries here. Oh and I’m not done with links just yet! Apparently, this “Theme Thursday” idea is the brainchild of Something Clever 2.0, and now it’s a link-up and everything!
This week’s topic is:
“How Having Kids Kills Your Sex Life.”
I can hear my husband groaning as he reads this topic. He will hang his head, roll his shoulders a few times, take deep breaths and then soldier on through the rest of this post, come what may. We’ll probably avoid eye contact, and engage in awkward hugging for a few days until we both recover from the intimacy of such a post. Oh, and my beautiful daughters and faithful readers of mommy’s blog, look away. Trust me. Reading this post might actually cause blindness. Help me, help you. Move along now. Nothing to see here.
Why are you still here!
Ok…I think they are gone. Whew. I would love to be one of those women who brags about my awesome sex life. When the topic of sex comes up with girlfriends, I decide it’s probably a good time to actually eat the food on my plate versus picking at it, or order another drink or maybe it’s potty break time. I’ll laugh, make jokes, and pray the subject changes quickly and that I don’t have to suffer through any direct questions, because quite frankly, I’m not that good a liar, and I ramble when I’m nervous.
The thing is…
The naked truth is…
Is it hot in here?
I need a drink. Why did I think writing this sober while at work was a good idea…
Ok, ok…the truth of the matter is…
Are you sure your ready?
Geez…ok, you don’t have to bite my head off!
I’m nervous… <gulp>
Ok, here goes nothing!
The truth is I am part of a super secret government experiment to see if it’s true that after a while with no sexual activity, your virginity does in fact, grow back. Seriously.
The real reason for my
lackluster, virtually non-existent sex life is because I’m saving myself for Adam Levine. Truthfully, I’m a little concerned he will be concerned that after having a bazillion kids, sex with me will be like throwing a hot dog down a hallway…if you get my meaning. Obviously, that’s a horrible myth…I mean maybe Octomom or Kate plus 8 minus 1 or whatever might have that issue, but I made sure my OB took care of things…down there. I believe my exact words might have been along the lines of “hey, make sure you sew me up tighter than a virgin on Prom night”. I blame the drugs.
The Adam Levine thing is not true either…probably. I mean I wouldn’t turn him down. If I was ever in a position to turn him down…which I mean, obviously I would be…to know me is to love me, most certainly. I’d bewitch him with my witty charm and snarky comebacks. He’d be powerless to resist me. He’s feeling the pull of my seductive charm right this very minute, he just doesn’t know it. He’s doing this whole hard to get thing now…but it won’t be much longer until he falls under my spell. The duct tape and rope…no, that’s not for him…most likely. Doesn’t everyone keep that stuff in their car? Anyway, I digress…this post isn’t about Adam Levine’s obsession for me, although it totally could be..but it’s not. Quit distracting me.
I am going to share something of myself in a rare moment of vulnerability…all jokes aside. The reason the life has been choked out of my sex life truly has nothing to do with our children or our busy lives. It has everything to do with me, and how I see myself. I wish I could be one of those women who views every extra pound, scar, stretch mark or cellulited dimple as a badge earned in honor on the Battlefield of Motherhood, but I’m not one of those women. I don’t want to see myself naked, so why would I let my husband get a peek at the horror show. It’s hard to even talk about this without resorting to sarcastic self-loathing and witty metaphors…both my armor of choice. My self-image has taken a beating over the years, and I’m not entirely sure how to pull it back within the bounds of normal or even mostly normal. My husband tells me I’m beautiful, and I know he means it. The problem is me, not him. Unfortunately, he suffers for it, because my lack of sex life is also his lack of sex life…or at least it better be!
It doesn’t help that I work with Senior Citizens who think I’m the “older woman” in my marriage, when I am in fact several years younger, and like to make comments about it…all the time. Or the time the clerk behind the liquor counter asked if my husband was my son. True story. She then proceeded to card him. In front of me. And pretend that she didn’t just ask me if my husband was my son! I make jokes about that day, but it hurt. It hurt bad. I can tell myself it’s because he’s short or any manner of things, but deep down, in the darkest parts of myself, I allow it to confirm what I already know. I’m fat and unattractive.
I have three teenage daughters and the last thing I want is for them to ever suffer with poor self-image or a distorted body image. The only thing I know to do is be honest about my struggles, and hope it’s not something they will ever struggle with as young women. I know all the things I should be doing. All the things I need to be doing. Knowing isn’t the problem. It’s the doing. I keep waiting for that switch to go off, or that lightbulb moment…but it doesn’t come. I’ll go on a diet, I’ll start exercising….and I’ll lose a pound or two and then….nothing. I’ll get discouraged and depressed until my good friends “Ice Cream” and “Chocolate” come knocking on my door to make me feel better. Then I’m ashamed that I gave in to these temptation sluts, so I attempt to numb my feelings by eating yet more and exercising less and less until I’m not exercising at all anymore. A few weeks will go by and then I’ll be shamed yet again into dieting and exercising…and so the cycle goes. Except every time I swear will be the last time.
I wish I could be one of those women who shops for clothing at Baby Gap and feels confident in my 10 sizes too small t-shirt or jeans, but I’m not.
I wish I could be one of those women who talks about how the weight just fell off running after all the kids, and how I never have to work out, but I’m not.
I wish I had hollow legs, but I don’t.
I wish I was one of those women people think don’t eat, yet consume copious amounts of food every hour, every day, but I’m not.
I wish I loved to exercise, but I don’t.
I wish I loved broccoli instead of chocolate, but I don’t.
I wish I could take a couple of bites out of my favorite foods, and claim to be full, but I’m not.
I wish I could look at food and feel nothing at all, but I can’t.
I wish I could love myself no matter what I look like and not rely on the definition of beauty as defined by other people, but I’m not.
I eat my feelings, whether I’m happy, sad, depressed, busy, bored…it doesn’t matter what I’m feeling, I’m eating.
So…I have to say, if I’m being honest, which I’m trying to do here…kids didn’t ruin my sex life, I did.
The question is….what am I going to do about it?
Now that I’ve depressed everyone with my tale of woe…let me tell you how to link up if you want with your own post answering this week’s question. Click on the link provided below and follow the instructions. Anyone can play. It’s that easy. In the immortal words of Nike…just do it.