Recently, I’ve discovered a new truth. Having sex these days is like going to the gym. You don’t want to go and it may take all your will power to get there, but once you’re on the treadmill it’s the best feeling you’ve had in ages. All of a sudden, you don’t feel tired anymore, you don’t worry about the work you haven’t done, the surfaces you haven’t cleaned, the dirty nappies bins you haven’t emptied…you’re just really glad you came (to the gym!) and, well, don’t you feel better for it?
It’s not that I don’t want sex. I love sex. I’d have sex every day of my live-long life if I could but, quite simply, I can’t. At the end of each day, I have about two hours after The Small has gone to bed to achieve what I used to take all day to do. Between 7.15pm and 9.15pm I will cook dinner, tidy/clean the house, do the laundry, do my work and have a conversation with my husband if he’s home. If he isn’t home I’ll watch an episode of Scandal or The Good Wife. When I crawl into bed, happy, fulfilled but utterly shagged, the very, very last thing I feel like doing is being sexy and energetic and even if I did feel like doing it, I’d suddenly remember that the last time I shaved my minge or my legs was…well, I don’t even know when.
Either way, both things are an immediate buzzkill and any man who hears his wife sigh and heave herself into position summoning the last few ounces of energy she has to bump uglies with him is probably not going to be that into it either.
You could, of course, have morning sex but when you have a Small, there is no ‘morning’. You don’t wake up before The Small (why would you?) and somehow, setting your alarm for sex in the morning seems to take the fun out of it.
So, what’s the solution? Well, I wish I had one. I don’t. All I have realised is that even if you do have a night off it’s so easy to give into the temptation of “I’m so tired”, “I’ve got so much to do”, “I’ve got an early start in the morning”. Yes, all those things are true but the world won’t come tumbling down if you give up half an hour for a shag. Let’s face it, when you have children, the days of three hour sex sessions are well behind you…it’s easier to slip it in (excuse the pun) to your schedule than you think and, just like the gym, once you’re there, you’re really pleased you went.