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Before our daughter was born, my partner and I had an
awesome sex life. I was skinny and wore
lingerie. He was energetic and
attentive. Now that we're parents, we're pretty much like roommates who share a bed unless one of us is snoring. I know it's typical to have a dry spell
during the little kid years, but I'm ready to put out an APB for my mojo.
I never get enough sleep, and I always go to bed feeling like I just ran
a marathon, only without the sense of accomplishment. And knowing I'll have to
rise at 6 a.m. the next morning is a real cock-a-doodle-don't.
We used to send each other saucy texts, like, "What are you
wearing?" Now I write, "The deposit is
due for preschool," and he texts, "Did she take a nap today?" We're so busy being responsible grown-ups
that we forget how much fun it was to act like love-struck teens.
Pre-baby I wore makeup, dressed cute (easy when I had a waistline), and
spent an obscene amount on my hair and nails. Now I'm the pajama queen, and all my splurges are on organic
produce. I'm a prime candidate for a TV
makeover show. Tell a friend.
4.I'm All Cuddled Out
When I was nursing, my body belonged to my daughter. I had my sore/leaky/tired boobs cordoned off
with a velvet rope—tiny VIPs only. Even though my kid weaned and eats cheeseburgers now, I still do plenty
of carrying, cuddling, boo-boo kissing and occasional co-sleeping. By the end of the day, my body is usually
looking for some space.
I'm trying to remember whether I ran the dishwasher.
5.Me-Time Is for Me
If I have a rare 20 minutes to myself, I can think of a dozen things that
would take precedence over sex; like reading magazines, taking a bath or eating
a cookie. Obviously, none of these activities
holds a candle to good lovin', but they're instantly gratifying and require
little effort or cleanup.
6.My Head's Not in the Game
Like any mom, my to-do list is never-ending, and somehow it's also much louder
than my libido. Instead of concentrating
on his kisses, I'm trying to remember whether I ran the dishwasher and where I
put the phone number for the pediatric dentist. If I could find a way to talk dirty about chores, I might be able to
kill two birds with one stone.
7.The Very Real Risk of Coitus Interruptus
You know what I'm talking about: Just when you're "close," the baby
starts wailing. Or the toddler barges
in. Or the newly licensed teenager hits
the garage with the car. Kids are such
cockblocks, right? Our child is
sleeping through the night but often wakes shrieking from a bad dream. It's hard to lose myself in the moment when I
know how quickly the moment could be over.
He'll shoot me that cute, "Want to?" look and I'll be like, "I can't right
now, I'm busy panicking about child predators." Becoming a mom has turned me into such a worrywart. I even worry about the consequences of us not
having enough sex, but I'm too anxious to do anything about it.
9.Our Bedroom Is More Like a Rec Room
Experts say the bedroom should be reserved for sex and sleep only. Tell that to the piles of laundry, stacks of
board books and noisy toys that moved in once our daughter arrived. What's worse is that all our old sex props—scented candles, groovy music, massage oil—somehow got lost in the
shuffle. During a recent attempt, the
best we were able to muster was the R&B cable TV station, and it was
we do have sex, it's often because I'm ovulating. Sex on-demand can be pretty good the first
night (oh, sex, I remember you, I like you) but by the third at-bat, we're both
complaining we have a headache. The
irony is that if I do get pregnant, it's going to be even longer before our sex
life gets back on track. You can see why
my mojo ran away from home.