When I became engaged, an older fellow shared a “wedding game” he and his wife tried when they tied the knot. Apparently they had a clear glass jar sitting on their nightstand. In their first year of marriage every time they made love, a penny would be dropped into the jar. After the first year, a penny would be taken out of the jar when nooky was commenced. With a twinkle in his eye, the old guy finished by saying, “After ten years of marriage, we gave up on the game. The jar was still half full.” Doesn’t the old joke go, “As soon as the marriage starts, the sex stops?” More recently, I was interviewed for a TV show. The young reporter asked me, “On average, how many times in a week do you have sex?” Average? I travel fifteen days out of the month and, when I get home, my body is exhausted from the wear and tear. “Sporadic” would describe my average. Does that make me sexually inadequate? Hardly. There is no average for how many times a couple makes love in a week. End of story.
It’s been six weeks since I had my newest son, Evan, and it’s time to resume sexual relations. After having my first son, Andrew (who’s now 26 months), trying to get sex back on track was, at times, a complete gong show. With that in mind this time around, I’ve decided to make sex after this baby a project. For the next six months—November 23 to May 30th—I will (attempt) to have sex with my husband at least once a week.
Week #1: Six Month Sex Challenge--Making time for sex a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.The week flew by in a flash of toilet training, work and domestic ‘bliss’. I wasn’t too concerned. With my first son, making time on weekends was pretty easy and so Saturday became ‘the day’ to have sex. I was, admittedly, a wee bit smug that everything was going to plan. And then all hell broke lose…
There you are, sitting alone on a Saturday night, eating stale Doritos and watching old re-runs of Seinfeld you have already seen seven times. It would not be so bad except you have an itch—a sexual itch, that is—in need of scratching. You start flipping through your brain’s Rolodex and realize, there are no real prospects on the horizon. Big time loser feelings start seeping into your every pore. Panic ensues. Your mind wanders back to the sex you had with your last partner. Instead of remembering all the reasons you broke up, you start obsessing about their soft, warm body up against yours in your nice cozy bed. Without thinking, you pick up the phone. They answer. You try to make some small talk but it is of no use. You ask them to come over for a “drink”. Both of you know that is code for, “Let’s have sex at least three times tonight.”