The Jig Is Up

If you think managing to have sex with an infant or toddler in the house is a feat of logistic and tactical genius, you are asbolutely right.

Mercifully, it does get easier. Eventually, one regains a semblance of one's sex drive, one is not so exhausted at the end of the day that it is all one can do to climb the stairs and collapse into a stained and crumpled heap amid the bedclothes, and one's breasts are no longer leaking, bloated vessels of comfort and sustenance for an adorable but parasitic infant. In short, one begins to feel human once more...enough so that copulation begins to seems like a good idea again, or at least...a somewhat less ridiculous and distasteful idea.

And for a while, all is well.

I loved being able to put my children to bed at the stroke of 7:00, sweet smelling and gratifyingly drowsy from their bath, while husband prepared a nice meal. We could drink some wine, watch a movie, then snog each other silly and still be in bed early enough that one of us could be reasonably focused and coherent when the boys awoke. For about 5 years we did this every Friday or Saturday night without fail. It was our time and it was the first time in a long time that we had the luxury of tending to our relationship.

And it was the first time in a long time that we could have sex without a child wailing, vomiting, or barging in at a perfectly inopportune moment. A mountain climber who chances to slip and fall mere feet from the summit could be no more frustrated than I have been at certain times when my children were small. And of course, the summit though still within reach, is not so easily regained when the manner of retreat is violent, abrupt and wholly involuntary.

So we thoroughly enjoyed our all too brief period of carnal liberty with licentious abandon.

But unfortunately, as the saying goes, the only constant is change, and change things did.

We now have a twelve year old. A twelve year old who knows things, thanks to our well intended but somewhat myopic and imprudent insistence on being open and frank about sexuality.

Now, settled as we are, moments of pure blinding lust are not so common as they once were. We have to work a little harder to ignite the passion that once burned so fiercely. But it's worth the effort. We tend to revel in the journey rather than hasten to the destination. And rather than mourn the loss of our former fervor, we celebrate the deeper connection and more profound satisfaction that is a result of our maturing taste and skill.

But sometimes that ferociously primitive hunger returns, often taking us completely unawares. We find ourselves in some wholly unsuitable situation, leering at one another, groping furtively and whispering naughty things. It is a purely physical need that is delicious and devastating.

Recently, we found ourselves in the midst of one such instance. Maybe the sun, moon and stars were all properly aligned. Maybe it was the dearth of snogging of late, due to the craziness of our lives and the various ills that we seem to be passing back and forth. Maybe it was hormonal. Perhaps my body was calling to his with that evolutionary secrecy...unheard, unseen, but deeply potent. Whatever the cause we were both powerfully horny at the same time.

That's something to celebrate, but unfortunately, with kids, its something that's not always possible to immediately alleviate. But we made the best of it. We spent the evening indulging in some good old fashioned flirting over the tops of our children's heads. And when bedtime finally rolled around for all of us, we cut short the usual niceties in our haste to be horizontal.

As I was tucking him in, Pre-Pubescent One asked me if he could "snuggle" with me. This is his way of asking if he can sleep with me, which is an indulgence I occasionally afford them on the weekends. Time will tell, I suppose, if I am raising the next generation of Norman Bateses, but in the meantime, I consider it an innocent enough pleasure.

Tonight, however, Mama had more than snuggling on her mind. We had the following conversation:

PPO: Mom, can I snuggle with you tonight?

BA: No, honey, not tonight.

PPO: Why not?

BA: Erm....because Dad is going to snuggle with me tonight.

PPO: Well...can I when you're, um....done?

BA: Done what?

PPO: You know....."snuggling".

There was an eye roll in his voice, though to his credit, his eyes did not in fact, roll. He had a bland look on his face that suggested he was trying very hard not to betray what he was thinking. The corner of his mouth twitched suspiciously, belying the innocence he was striving so hard to affect. And then, after a moment during which he put forth a Herculean effort to remain nonchalant, a bright red blush suffused his cheeks and his eyes dropped from mine.

Sweet Jesus.

My child was aware that we were planning to have sex. It was hard to judge who was more discomfitted, but I felt the lovely tingling anticipation I had been enjoying all evening disappear. It was abruptly replaced by a decided queasiness.

After the boys were tucked in bed, I headed into our bedroom were Husband was waiting with a predatory gleam in his eye.

BA: We can't have sex.

Husband: They'll be asleep in a few minutes.

BA: No, I mean, we can't have sex ever, until the boys leave home.

Husband: What? Why? What's going on?

BA: He knows.

Husband: Knows what?

BA: He knows we're having sex.

Husband: Well, um....yeah. He knows where babies come from, so....he knows we have sex.

BA: No, I mean, he knows we're having sex right now.

Husband was silent for a moment, clearly understanding the ramifications, and also, clearly judging the likelihood that the evening would end in some kind of sex taking place.

Huband: So, we're not going to do it because our son knows we're going to do it?

BA: Yes.

Husband: What if I go in there and tell him we're not going to do it?

BA: WHAT? NO! Then he'll know that I know he knows and he'll know that you're only saying we're not going to do it so he won't think we're doing it, when we really are doing it!

Husband: SIGH.....Baby...

BA: I just can't. It's wrong. I won't be able to enjoy it.

Husband (sotto voce): I will.

BA: You're sick.

Husband: I'm horny.

BA: You're telling me that it doesn't bother you at all that your son knows we're in here having sex?

Husband: We're not having sex.

BA: But you want to.

Husband: Yes, God help me, I do.

We did have sex. And I did enjoy it. And after a while, I forgot about Pre-Pubescent One. But I don't think sex will ever be as uninhibited as it was before.

I guess that's what those rent by the hour hotels are for.

Damn. And just when I was peaking too.