An orgasm a day keeps the doctor away.
Mae West
Do you have a vibrator? I’m just wondering. It’s a not-so-secret fantasy of mine to work for one of those home party sex toy companies with hot pink and, black logos. I’d have a large leopard print bag of tricks that, over champagne and chocolate covered strawberries, I’d wow moms with. I’d be queen of the gadgets, gizmos, costumes, creams, and magic sprays.
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Have you read Elizabeth Gilbert’s *Eat Pray Love*? If not, I don’t know where the heck you’ve been. It’s a great read. Liz starts on her bathroom floor, crying, feeling something in between hatred and indifference for her husband (what exactly went wrong, nobody knows) and winds up half way around the world where she finds true love. In between all of this is a lot of pasta and meditation.
How lucky is she! I tried to imagine going on an *Eat Pray Love* trek but the fact that I’ve used my uterus twice makes it impossible.
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*To all of my lovely readers (I like pretending I have a whole flock of fans) please forgive the delay in writing!
I love browsing celebrity mom websites. The pages are full of photos of pretty, slim, fashionable moms who run businesses, act in movies, appear on Conan er, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and still have time to be caught by the paparazzi looking oh so casual chic (not to be confused with just plain “casual”) at the park with their kids.
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I’ve come to a pretty sad conclusion. None of the people who should be having sex are. Teenagers are doing it. High schoolers are doing it. College students are doing it. Married people are absolutely not doing it. And as the number of kids in a family go up, the number of sexual encounters per week decrease.
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So, I hired the French nanny. I know I said I wasn’t going to for the sake of being the queen of my domain or something but my kid likes her, mama needs to work, and…I can’t remember my last excuse. I did get my hair done and have been paying close attention to my wardrobe to make myself feel better about the decision. I’ve decided she is not a real threat. Vegans don’t steal husbands and anyway, she’s totally sweet. Part of me thinks she might be an angel. An angel would never eat meat or consume dairy products so my theory makes sense.
I’m not a jealous woman. My husband has never strayed. At the same time, I know not to tempt the fates; anyone can end up the center of an All My Children-esque drama.
We just moved to Montreal, a city of charm, multicultural living, and great baguettes. I’d enjoy it more but at 36 weeks pregnant, walking makes my vagina feel like it’s stretching like an overstuffed leather tote. And I waddle just a bit. Being a full-time work-at-home mom means I need help during the day so I took it upon myself to interview nannies.
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First, I must apologize for being MIA. After I got knocked up?everything took a backseat… Even my nails. I’m 7 months along now and?will use this entry to reflect on Sex While Pregnant, or SWP. SWP?shouldn’t be confused with its neighbors, DWI or DUI. It’s not illegal?or immoral although it is rare. Just kidding. OK, I’m not. I’ve heard?there are women who are more turned on when impregnated. I’m not one?of them.
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So. I’m pregnant. A home pregnancy test confirmed it last week. Even though I’ve known for sometime how babies are made, it’s always surprising when it happens to me. It’s like weight gain. Sure I know that cheesecake and popcorn are high in calories but when my pants actually fit tighter, I’m baffled.
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Ok, my sweet husband and I are officially in “making another baby” mode. Message boards call what we’re doing The Baby Dance. Bottom line: our daughter is 2.5 and we’re worried about having two kids that are so far apart in age that they couldn’t care less about each other. The logical part of me knows that even if kids are 8 year apart they’ll still love each other, but that’s not what Parenting magazine says.
My husband and I have been flirting with the idea of adding another chick to our roost lately. I mean, you can’t just have one kid, right? We’re both very clear on how babies are made but neither of us are 100% committed enough to getting me knocked up.
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