Naughty Wednesday

I saw this picture, and couldn't resist posting it, as it depicts the excitement that my husband is feeling now that we're.........you'll have to read the next post to find out what!

Have a great day & feel free to link below!

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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"D" for Directions Or Divorce

A few days ago, we had planned to all go out as a family, and take our children to see Thomas the Train. It had been planned for a month, and we were all very excited.

My husband had asked me to get directions the day before, but I had just run out of time since I was also busy getting ready for Thanksgiving.

The day for Thomas came, and it was up to me to get everyone packed up, and ready to go. I had arranged with my husband that we were to leave by 11 am at the latest.

He walses through the door at 11:30 am, and wasn't ready yet. Because I had no help, I wasn't either. I manage to call the location of the show for some directions just as we were about to leave.

I should have known when the lady that answered the phone didn't know her exact location, or how to get there from where we would be coming from that the directions she gave were questionable. All she could give me was a street address, and the way to come via a different route.

Finally we leave, in just enough time.

After driving nearly an hour, we have to start using our directions. I tell my husband to get on to the highway, and he says, "which way?"

Neither of us have a clue.

He freaks out. I try to calm him down, but he cannot see past his anger, and frustration.

We have a navigation system in our car. So, I say, "pull over, and we'll enter in the street address."

He pulls over reluctantly. Only, it doesn't recognize the street name, and now we're getting late for the show that cost our family over $120 dollars. Hubbie is not impressed.

We pull off again, a few moments later of driving around aimlessly, and put in another street name that's on the directions. It takes it, only it's a different street, in a different city, and the navigation system has us headed out of town on a highway with no exits.

Now my husband sounds like he is about to kill me, I'm crying so hard that I can hardly see, and the kids are all worked up, worried about Mommy, and not understanding why Daddy is so mad. (If you are wondering, this picture is for illustration purposes only, to demonstrate the mean look on my husband's face, and not his utters.)

Several times, I had asked nicely that he stop yelling, and stop being so furious, but he wouldn't listen.

It was terrible.

He finally made an illegal u-turn, which was extremely dangerous, and we headed back to where we were.

We got to the the show 45 minutes late, right at intermission, and by that time, because of my husband's yelling, and screaming, and my crying, I don't think anyone was really in the mood to enjoy the show.

On the way home, I couldn't speak to him. I was so hurt, humiliated, and upset that he would yell at me like that, especially in front of our kids.

I got directions, and laughing about it now, I think - he never asked me to get GOOD directions!

It was a terrible, unfortunate situation. But one, that none of us should have been blamed solely for, and one that we should have tried to get through as a family.

When we got home, my husband said to me, "I know we need to talk, so come on and lay on the couch with me, and will talk about it."

I said, "I have things to do right now." I did, I had 3 tired, upset kids to put down for a nap, and to unpack everything that we had brought, and okay - I admit, I was avoiding him.

Then he says, "Well, if you really care about our marriage, you'll come and talk. And, if you don't, then you don't care, and maybe you would be happier if we weren't together, and you found someone that made you more happy."

He didn't use the "D" word - DIVORCE, but he might as well have. I hate that.

I mustered "Honey, I don't want to talk to you right now." If he thought it was because I wanted a divorce, well that was his own fault for mentioning it. But, I wasn't ready to talk yet, I was still very hurt.

Afterwards, when the kids were in bed, my husband and I talked. I explained how, and what about the day hurt me so terribly, but he was still being defensive.

It's hard to come to a truce when one person won't let down their guard.

In bed later on that evening, we finally achieved some closure, and it didn't have anything to do with sex.

He layed there beside me, finally dropping his male "I'm always right" shield, and apologized like he meant it. No longer throwing the empty "I'm sorry" words into the air without purpose. He explained why he was sorry, and attempted to empathize - which is what is important in an apology.

He finally admitted that he was out of place losing his cool like that, and that in doing so he only made the situation worse, not to mention completely disrespecting his wife in front of his children, and subjecting them to unnecessary anger. He sounded as though he was ashamed of himself.

At this point, I said "by the way, there is no chance in this world that we will have sex tonight."

There was no way that I could show my love for a man, who had hurt me so badly, and for so long without remorse.

To my surprise, he was absolutely okay with not having sex, in fact, he was worried that we might not ever have sex again.

I explained that I would never have sex with someone who could so completely disrespect, hurt, and treat me the way that he did, who was so mean.

I also explained how earlier, when he told me to come, and talk, and if I didn't that meant that I didn't care about our marriage, that he was being completely unfair.

It was a bleak day in our marriage, a low point for not only our marriage, but for my husbands character as being the great husband that I know, and love.

But, I know that if it weren't for the lows, then I wouldn't appreciated the highs as much, nor would the love that I feel for him be so grand.

He isn't perfect, and for that I am thankful, because neither am I.

I'm not sure if he knew, but I was also very upset that day, because it was the same day 5 years ago that I lost my mom to cancer.

She was heavily in my thoughts as I struggled through the day, and afterwards when I remembered what she would have said:

"What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger."

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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Turn On The Romance

Okay, so I'm a corny, sappy, poo when it comes to romantic movies.

There's nothing like putting on a romantic flick to make me get in the mood. Which is a good, and a bad thing when it comes to my husband - because he LOVES it when I'm in the mood, but hates corny, sappy movies.

I'm almost certain that his eyes almost bleed at the sight of a romance set in the 1900's especially. I can hear him moaning, and groaning on the couch beside me as I watch Pride and Prejudice - and it's not because he's aroused in any manner, in fact I believe it has an opposite affect on him. The moaning and groaning more likely has to do with him having the need to regurgitate his supper.

So, I save watching these kinds of movies for when he's not around.

I'm not sure if all women are the same, but I tell you, it's movies like this one that make me smile at the thought that true love, passion, romance, and all that other sappy stuff used to - and still has the chance to exist.

Swooning a woman, and being so polite, gentleman-like, and so eloquent.

It all just seems so beautiful. And, if only we could capture a glimpse of that, and bring it into our everyday lives, well then in my opinion we'd all be ahead in our relationships, and our sex life.

If my husband only knew that if he studied these movies, even just a little - and took a few notes, why, he would be as sexy to me as I'll get out.

I am such a sap.

What other male movie studs make you drool?

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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Like A Dog In His Own House

How many words does it take to make your sex drive flatten out to absolutely zilch?

The night before last it took exactly 7.

When after a long day of changing stinky diapers, looking after my kids who were extra fussy, and cleaning up puppy poo, after puppy poo. (What was I thinking when we got not 2, not 3, but 4 dogs?! I must be mad.)

Anyhow, exhausted I lay in bed, still a little sick, and having just fallen asleep.

My husband leaps into bed, strips the covers off me, it's freezing cold, and starts frantically tugging at my pajamas.

Are they on fire? What?

I am awake (now), as the bright bedroom lights are blinding me, and the cold air hits me like a ton of bricks. Slightly irritated, and very awake, I manage to keep my pajamas on, trying not to freeze to death.

The unnecessarily fast, and eager tugging at me wasn't so bad.

What was bad, was when he muttered in a joking fashion the following while wrapping his arms around me, and starting to dry - well, hump my legs from behind as I lay on my side:

"I'm doing it like our dog does." He says.

I'm now being shook frantically in our bed.

Still being shook. What is the plan here anyway?

He was making reference to how our little male dog humps our two female ones. Wow.

What a great come-on.

Come on!??? Do I not deserve just a little romance. Forget romance for a minute I would take plain old politeness.

As the image of our gross little, filthy dog who poops every where is flashing in my mind (I like the dog, but he can be super gross), I quickly get out of bed, and dash for the only place that I can have some privacy - the bathroom.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and okay, forget about privacy, my husband is now sitting on a towel on our bathroom floor not 2 feet beside me as I pee.

He must be frozen I think.

I get it, he's playing the eager puppy card.

Not only have I awoken to a terrible dream where my husband has morphed into a dirty, horny dog, but now he is stalking me around the house, and there is no escape!

My head bowed, hair all a mess in my hands. I lift my head to look at him, and say "Honey, can I please just have a little privacy?"

So he left the room, and I started shaking my head.

He runs back into the bathroom.

"I saw you shaking your head. What's that all about? Are you mad at me or something?" He asks.

I'm now beginning to wonder if my husband has all of a sudden shrunk in age or something. I feel like I'm in a relationship tonight with a nervous, excited teenager who is as smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

"Honey, I just need a minute. Please go back to bed, I'll be up in a minute." I say.

He leaves.

I try to shake off the "I'm so not in the mood, at all, ever, in this century" feeling I am having, as I continue to shake my head.

I meander towards the bedroom, stopping at the stairs, looking up into the darkness.

I say to myself "Okay, I know he wasn't the most romantic man tonight. What am I saying, he was plain immature, yucky, ew, oh man that was the suckiest seduction I've ever experienced. Alright, forget that. Yes, forget the dog thing. No more dog. He's him, my wonderful, handsome, sweet, loving husband. I love him. I'm married to him - I've married a pervert, oh no - I mean, a great man. Okay, I'm going to just go up there, and we'll start over. I can do this. I love him."

I walk upstairs, into our room.

"Honey, don't ever try to seduce me like that again, please. And, when someone says they need some privacy, could you please just allow them the same treatment that you would expect? Thanks."

I got into bed, and he apologized.

I could tell that he felt terrible for being, what he called - "such an idiot."

Those are his words, and mine, I mean - just his, haha.

He morphed back into my husband, and it was all uphill from there.

Fewf.

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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Sexy Tip #8 For Moms

Keep It Clean.

What? - I thought that in Sexy Tip #7 For Moms , it was a good idea to enjoy the mess? Are we not being just bit hypocritical here?

No, we are not.

Sure, enjoying a mess is fun, there's nothing quite like a good clean mess.

But, be clean yourself is the point.

Because there is nothing more revolting to the majority of people than someone who stinks, tastes bad, or looks unkept.

I know that I am even guilty myself at times for not taking the 5 minutes I need to have a shower sometimes. Between looking after my 3 kids, our house, and everything else sometimes at the end of the day I'd rather fall into bed than take a shower.

Even though sometimes my husband might not take a shower, which is gross because his job has him sweating all day long, I don't mind.

However, when he is all cleaned up, and even in decent clothes, smelling oh so great, that's a big turn on, and I know that he feels the same about me.

Having good hygiene is a common courtesy that we should all extend to our partners, because without doing so we're saying that we don't care enough about ourselves, or them by taking the time that is needed to care for ourselves.

This should be common sense. If you were blindfolded would you be more attracted to the B.O. smelling man...or the mint fresh, washed one? Hmmm...let me think about that one.

Smelly man/woman go take a jump in the lake, and come back when you are clean.

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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I'm Not Anti-Man

Shaking my head, as I write these words, trying to shake off all the melodrama I've received for not talking about my husband like he is a God.

I want to make it abundantly clear that I love my husband. If I never had anything to complain about in my life, in my marriage, about my husband, and myself - well then everything would be perfect. If everything was perfect, then life would be boring.

I am not perfect. And, although I may speak my mind, and occasionally step on a few people's toes, I think that's what makes me human.

Here are 50 things that I LOVE about my husband, just in case anyone is wondering, including him if I ever love him at all!

1. He is caring.

2. He is a great father.

3. I love the way he looks like a drooly puppy when he sleeps.

4. He is the handsomest man I've ever laid eyes on, I still think that after 5 years of marriage, 7 years together, and 3 kids.

5. He's generous, and never leaves me feeling like I miss out.

6. I can tell him anything, and blog about anything, do anything, and he loves me still.

7. I love that he loves me no matter what.

8. I love his bum.

9. He gives amazing massages.

10. He works so hard for his family, and looks after all of us very well.

11. I love his cuddles, he's like a giant teddy bear.

12. He makes me laugh.

13. I love how at the end of the day, he always asks "Is there anything I can do for you."

14. He makes great pancakes.

15. He is my very best friend.

16. I love how he is meticulous like a footery old man.

17. I admire his strength, both physical, and how he is always there for me, like a rock.

18. I love that we dream together.

19. I love his eyes. They are gorgeous.

20. How he likes to hold me in his arms each morning before he gets out of bed.

21. How when he kisses me, he sticks his tongue out - just a little.

22. I love that he would do ANYTHING for me, and his children.

23. I love that he is reliable.

24. Responsible.

25. Easy going.

26. How he just likes to chill sometimes.

27. I love his smile, his lips are so nice.

28. That he is so masculine.

29. That he gets embarrassed when he toots, and denies being the cause of the smell. I even love that he smells so bad!

30. I love his hugs.

31. I love that sometimes he'll just make cookies or rice krispie squares out of the blue.

32. That he is sensitive.

33. I love that he never gives up, and tries so hard.

34. I love that he is the best role model I could ask for my children.

35. I love that he still asks me to dance when he hears our song on the radio.

36. I even love that he is still a bit of a pervert, okay he is a pervert! I'm grateful that he is attracted to me after I've had 3 kids.

37. He's like a cat. He likes to be scratched, and rubbed.

38. He can do anything. He is Mr. Fix It. Mr. Build It.

39. I love that he often thinks that he is perfect, or that he has a better way of doing things, always. He's self-assured, confident.

40. I love that he is passionate about me, and that his passion has never dwindled.

41. I love that he likes to sit and watch movies with me sometimes.

42. That he is fun.

43. Young at heart.

44. I love having tickle fights with him. And I'm not sure why, but I enjoy pinching his nipples.

45. I love that he can still pick me up, and carry me any where.

46. I love his devotion to his work, and his family.

47. I love that he is so mature, and yet can act like a kid at the drop of a hat.

48. That he has a positive outlook on life.

49. That he is so ambitious.

50. I love everything about him!

Much of what is written here at Sex Diaries of a Mom is dedicated to my loving husband - I love you.

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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On a Serious Note

Well I am back from holidays. Or shall I say a nightmare.

Unfortunately, our vehicle broke down, and it took two days longer to get home, with our three little ones in the hot sun, walking endlessly, trying to entertain everyone, and after spending a fortune on a repair job that didn't get us home.

My husband ended up hitch hiking home to get our other vehicle since our cell phone was dead, and wouldn't have had reception anyway. We finally towed ourselves home.

What was supposed to be a 4 hour drive took 2 1/2 days.

I'm thankful though that we're all home at last, safe, and sound.

I missed blogging so much, and plan to slumber in my jammies for the next few days blogging it up with my kids at my side.

And, by the way - Mr. Grumpy Pants didn't fair out well in the Sex Dept. - I'm not sure that anyone would have given our situation.

Before I begin my blogging marathon....I need to do a little housekeeping.

While I was away, to my dismay I received my very first negative comment. And, seeing as how I have celebrated all of Sex Diaries of a Mom's 1sts, I thought that I shouldn't miss the opportunity to celebrate - okay to eliminate this one.

Speaking of which, if anyone knows how to delete comments - without moderating them, let me know!

Quite honestly, the comment left me feeling disappointed that some people can be so mean. I try to be nice to everyone, not because I want to put on a facade, but because I strongly believe that you should treat others the way that you would want to be treated.

The comment was left after my post Here, There, and Every Where. In a nut shell, the person that left the comment was angry at myself, and the enthusiastic readers of this blog for being "neglectful wives," and for being "shallow." This person also badgered a few people specifically, and said that our husbands/partners are all likely to want to see if the grass is in fact greener on the other side.

Since I can't delete the comment, and I do care about my readers, and fellow Mom bloggers, I feel the need to set this commenter straight.

First of all, the Mom bloggers who have contributed to Sex Diaries of a Mom, are nothing less than spectacular women; some wives, some partners, some single women. They are Moms. They are women who do more - for themselves, for their kids, for their significant others if they have one, and for their fellow Moms every day by sharing their stories, and supporting one another.

None deserve to be commented at in a disrespectful manner - and anyone who does so is not welcome here at Sex Diaries of a Mom.

Thank you everyone who has been supportive, kind, and just plain awesome.

Never once have I, or will you notice that I call anyone names. I think that it's mean. I may make reference to my husband as a "monster," or "Mr. Grumpy Pants." But he, and I both know that it's in good fun. He reads every word of what I write, and quite often chuckles while reading every sentence.

In fact, in our relationship, and in life, we strongly believe that you shouldn't disrespect people by calling them names, especially out of anger.

I started writing this blog because I wanted to share with other Moms what sex as a Mom can really be like - and in case anyone missed it....it's all in good, plain fun.

Life should be fun.

Many women, including myself have no one to talk about the trials and tribulations of motherhood - and sex. For many of us, it's a topic that is often ignored, and subdued.

I'm not out to get my husband, or to sabotage his sex life. The reality of motherhood is that sometimes, and I repeat sometimes sex just isn't an option. Period.

It's often disheartening for both the men, and the women in a relationship when sex is lacking. I do truly believe in the importance of sex in a marriage, in the importance of intimacy, and of showing your partner the love that they deserve.

The reality of motherhood though, especially with children who are very small however, is that often your sex life isn't like it used to be - or how it will become when they get older.

This doesn't mean that any new Mom should feel victim to a possible adulterous relationship because of their being sexually neglectful to their partners, or their partners feeling unloved, and not sexually satisfied though. I think that this is a statement that is insulting, and extremely inaccurate.

Any man who is a father, and who is of a good character in the first place should want to be understanding, and loving toward the mother of their children. When times get tough, and sometimes sex isn't the first priority in life, both partners should support each other, be understanding, and continue to love each other anyway.

The sex life of a Mom has its ups, and its downs. As does marriage. But, those who take their wedding vows seriously, and do truly love their partners, are in it for better, or for worse.

There is nothing "worse" about motherhood - it's a beautiful, natural part of life. Its tribulations are simply just a whole lot of poop, but in a different pile.

I don't think that anyone should judge people, make assumptions, or be unnecessarily mean towards another person.

It's important to also point out that not all men go out, and slave away for their wives, and children. And, although my husband does work hard to provide for his family. I work equally hard, and I am entitled to equal rights to have my needs met as well. If that means getting sleep as opposed to sex, so be it. It's not to spite him - it's because he loves, and understands what I need as well.

I won't judge, or assume why this person commented the way that they did.

And, by the way. After I read the comment - just to make it abundantly clear, I went to bed with my husband, and looked after him so well that I made his eyes pop out of his head. Oh, and it wouldn't be the first, and it won't be the last time that I do this.

Also, did you know that anger, or aggression is sometimes associated with the lack of sex? It's a hormonal thing. So maybe certain people would be a whole lot less grumpy if they were getting lucky more often - hehummm.

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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Chapter Two

I invite you to read Chapter One, if you haven't already, and if would like to follow along with the story. Read Chapter One.

_______________________________

My mom, and I were always there for each other. We had a bond that was stronger than any bond imaginable between a mother, and her child. Not only was she my mom, she was my very best friend. One time, to tell her just that, I had written her a poem, that I now know by heart. She loved it so much, that she got it mounted onto a plaque, and hung it up on the kitchen wall so she could read it every day. It read:

Mom, You Are So Special

All of this time, all the love and the care
Have made me realize that you’ll always be there
For when I need you, or when I’m sad
You’re there right beside me, for that I am glad
Sometimes you forget, you’re more than a Mom to me
You’re a friend, a role model, and a hero you see
So this is a small token of my love for you
Saying things often unspoken you already knew
xoxo

She told me everything. At times, more than I wanted to know; every truth, since I was so little, that others would argue I was too little to understand. She was teaching me the alphabet before I could sit up, and talking to me like I was an adult from the day I was born. She was completely honest with me. While some parents might think it best to keep their child from knowing something in an attempt to protect them, she would do the exact opposite; believing that in order to protect me, I needed to know the truth. I remember when my parents split up, she told me the truth, explaining:

“Dumplin, your father and I have to be apart now, he can’t live with us any more - but it’s for the best. You see, we don’t get along any more, and we’re much happier when we’re apart. He’s going to live with Nana and Grandpa now, and you’ll get to visit him every second weekend, okay?”

“Yes Mommy.” I answered, understanding completely. I knew exactly why things had turned out the way they had. Knowing not only why my parents were apart, but also that my father was completely, and utterly unreliable, for anything. That was why I was left sitting alone on that window seat, waiting for so long.

At least I was inside a warm house, although I still shiver at the reminder of that very sad, cold day when I was younger. I might have called Mom to tell her that he hadn’t shown up, but this time I wanted to deal with him by myself. Maybe I was the only one who could get through to him. My parents hardly spoke, and it was for that reason that Mom often made herself scarce before Dad came to pick me up.

“She’s all finished now” says the kind nurse in the pale pink uniform, guiding my mom towards me with a gentle hand. I snap out of the deep thought I was in, put my crocheting in my bag, and take my mother’s arm. She’s really weak now. Her body looks so feeble, and old - but she is not, she’s only fifty-six. I help her into the wheelchair, and push her down the hall. All of the halls here look the same; all a bland, strange pink colour. Not a nice pink, but rather a dismal shade that has you wondering if the whole building had to be one colour, why someone wouldn‘t have picked a nicer one.

This place is like a maze with all it’s seemingly endless corridors, that all look identical. If it weren’t for the beautiful art work which covers the walls of the last corridor we travel to get out of this place, we would be forever lost. I look up to study the paintings as we pass by, each time capturing just a little more of their detail. Light shines through the glass ceiling, and makes the paintings all seem even more brilliant, and warms my face. All of these things I would normally never pay any attention too while I would race on by. We continue walking, back to the door from which we came. I stop pushing the wheelchair, and walk around my mother, who’s body is droopy in it’s seat. Her clothes are all wrinkled, their fabric gathered, and folded because her body simply doesn’t fill them any more.

“Mom, I’m just going to get the car, I’ll be right back.” I said.

We’ve been coming here every day for the past two weeks, and I’ve run out of money to pay for parking. I don’t want to bother her about it, so I have her wait at the door while I park the car three blocks away where the parking is free. I don’t think she notices, and I find the jog refreshing - it seems to be the only time I have peace from the thoughts, and worries that consume me.

It‘s been a very long day. Beginning to run I clasp my bag, tightly pressing it’s bulgy contents against my side. I grow hotter, and hotter even though the breeze is blowing directly in my face. As I reach the car, a bead of sweat begins to gather just under my bangs ready to trickle down.

Into the car I get, and drive back to the door.

No one seems to be in a rush today. A lady walks across the road in front of me, a cigarette hanging from her mouth, as she searches inside her purse for something to light it with I assume.

She’s not even paying attention to the cars, or to crossing the road. What a gross habit, does she not realize what it will do to her?

I get to the entrance, stop the car, turn off the ignition, flick on my hazard lights, quickly get out of the car, and go through the revolving glass doors. Turning to look back outside, I see that already there are cars who have lined up behind me. They don’t seem to mind to wait, but I still feel rushed because I know how slow it will be t o get Mom into the car. As I walk with her, my arm supporting her, she wobbles a little, her ankle buckles over her white sneaker. Catching her, and straightening her up to regain her balance, she feels light, like the wind could blow her over.

I open the passenger side door, and protect her head, as I lower her carefully into the seat, and then run around the car, and hop in myself.

As I drive I avoid thinking of how mom is half the weight she used to be, and looks almost twice as old. I avoid thinking about how the car is silent. She doesn’t try to talk any more. My entire life she has always talked so much, often asking me so many questions that I would end up saying:

“Alright Mom, that’s enough, stop bugging me!”

I wish she would bug me now, or just say anything at all. In fact, I feel sorry for having thought, and having said that she was bugging me at all. I guess there are a lot of times that I now feel sorry for. Like when she used to come into my bedroom in the morning to say good morning, and tell me it’s time to get ready for school, and I would yell at her to “Leave me alone, I’ll get up in a few minutes.” She knew that a few minutes would turn into hours if she didn’t persist. I could be so grouchy in the morning when she woke me up, but I think now how my behaviour was inexcusable. I should have been nicer. She was only trying to help me, so I wouldn’t be late. It’s strangely disturbing how we can be meaner to the people we love, than to total strangers we’ve only just met.

We arrive at home, I walk her inside, and tuck her into bed. Her room has always looked the same for as long as I can remember, except now the furnitrure has all been rearranged to allow her to be closer to the bathroom.

“Do you need anything Mom?” I ask.

She shakes her head, rests it on her pillow, and closes her eyes.

“Good Bye. I love you.” I say quietly, and leave.

On the way home, I think of how much I hate that this time that I’m spending with my mom is so hazy, like I’m on auto-pilot, only doing what is required of me, and as though I can see myself going through the motions from afar. I’ve been thinking about all kinds of unimportant things, that don’t matter at all, when really I should be paying attention to what really matters - my mom. I try to think of how I can make the time we spend together more meaningful, and agree that I’ll try harder tomorrow. Exhausted, my head hits the pillow, and I sleep.

________________________________________________________

That was Chapter Two, of the story. I will post the next Chapter in a day, or two. All the Chapters will be available along the sidebar as I post them.

I would love some feedback, good or bad.

Thank you for reading along with the story.

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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Sex Diaries of a Mom's 2nd Featured Post!

The response in the last week to Sex Diaries of a Mom has been honestly overwhelming, and so exciting! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to check out Sex Diaries of a Mom , and shared your kind, kind words!

So, Sex Diaries of a Mom was actually featured on 2 blogs today! First time ever, and it happened twice in one day, I can't believe it.

I want to say a sincere "Thank You," to the wonderful Cheryl of The Daily Blonde who was kind enough to feature my post today as well. She has an amazing story, can you believe she is the Mom of 5 children - she looks so young! And, I hope that she will be writing a post for SD's soon!

Check out her blog at http://dailyblonde.blogspot.com/ and leave her a comment!

Here's what the Mom Blogger at The Daily Blonde had to say about Sex Diaries of a Mom:

"When I first read the blog Sex Diaries of a Mom I knew I had to connect with the woman who writes this fantastic blog...Mama of Romance. Her sense of humor is outstanding and I'd be hard pressed to find a better guest blogger who speaks my language...that is, she's not afraid to talk about the "S" word and make it a fun subject instead of taboo. After you're done reading, please head on over and read more posts on Sex Diaries of a Mom. She's most definitely worth listing on your blog roll. Thanks, Mama of Romance...you're my kind of woman!" - Cheryl, of The Daily Blonde

This is As Close to Pole Dancing As She Gets
By: Mama of Romance, Sex Diaries of a Mom

She was a sexy, young, smart, amazingly vibrant woman.

And, then you married her.

Perhaps this is how many husbands feel after a few, or many years of hauling the old ball and chain.

Then come kids - and, the façade is over.

I know that the thought crosses my husband’s mind each, and every time that I don’t meet his criteria for the perfect wife, and mother.

I don’t dress like I used to, flirt like a used to, and I certainly don’t act the same way in bed.

I’m not as eager to please, and no I don’t willingly give as many sexual favours as I used to. But can you really blame me? All I do, all day long is please everyone else but myself.

Life happened. Reality is that after getting married, and having 3 children in 4 years, all of whom are still very little, life doesn’t allow for things to be the way that they used to be anymore.

We can no longer stay in bed all day long, having a sex marathon. No more drop everything, and have a little love session on a whim. Not to mention, romantic alone-time together - what is that again?

But it’s not just what’s changed in my life, I’ve changed because of my life too.

I don’t have the energy, patience, or let’s face it, the desire to be the old me.

I’m sorry that my husband isn’t always my top priority, that his sexual needs don’t always get met, but this is as close to pole dancing as she get‘s, babe. For now anyway.

You know though - he doesn’t realize that he’s not Mr. Perfect any more either.

He used to sweep me off my feet, be romantic, surprise me, and hold back perverse thoughts, and gross behaviours.

Now the only surprise I get it toenail clippings on the kitchen table. Or, an awful stench, followed by a grin, and a “It’ not me.”

The reality of courtship is that both parties tend to portray themselves as being a little more squeaky clean than they really are in the beginning. A little more nice, pretty, sexy, gentle-man-like, or what have you.

This is a perfectly natural thing for all species of animals, including humans to do.

Male peacocks spread their lavishly handsome feathers, and lions use their impressive roar to attract a mate. It’s natural.

So what does that leave you with, other than a run of the mill, less than satisfactory version of what you really wanted for a spouse?

It leaves you with a lot.

I believe the secret to marriage isn’t about what qualities you don’t flash anymore, or what activities you’re no longer willing to do. Rather, it’s when you both be the best that you can be, and do the best that you can do, and love each other anyway.

For better or for worse, right?

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo

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Finding The Woman Within

As a busy Mom, there are millions of different thoughts that pass through your head every day.

For me it doesn't stop from the time that I wake up, until the time I go to sleep at night.

I wonder if he needs to go potty.
Did I pay that bill yet?
Is it going to rain, or should I take them to play outside?
What is this stickiness all over the floor?
Do I have enough diapers left to last until I go to the store next?
What am I going to make for supper?
I hear the ringing, but where are the phones in this house?
Where is his teddy bear?
I wish they would stop fighting.
When is the Birthday Party again?
Did they get enough to eat?
When is Daddy going to be here!?

And, that's just the beginning of how mentally, emotionally, and physically draining our days as busy Moms can be.

Most of us, including myself wouldn't have it any other way though.

But, that's not to say that sometimes, life doesn't gradually begin to creep up on us, day by day, and all of a sudden we forget who we are, and what we need, let alone what we might want.

We lose ourselves.

Who is she? You might think as you snag a quick glance at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

I used to be such a ____ (sexy, smart, organized, skinny, pretty, etc.)___ woman.

Look at me now.

Who am I?

As you look in the mirror, you can't hide the fact that you haven't showered in 3 days, your hair is a mess, you have no make-up on, your clothes are ratty, there's a stain on your shirt, and a bulge above the waist of your pants.

Geez. So you walk away, and forget it, for now.

Neglecting myself, and my needs makes me feel lousy, unpretty, and unhappy.
The longer you leave it, the harder it's going to be to find, and love that woman inside of yourself again.

Tragically, sooner, or later, if you ignore yourself long enough, it can catch up with you too.

You'll get sick, or depressed, or one day just look back and wish that you would have, could have, or should have.

You might think that you're being the best Mom, and wife that you can be, because you are always putting everyone else first, and yourself last, but you're not.

In fact, you're not doing anyone that you love ANY favors if you aren't looking after, and loving yourself too.

I know I can feel drained, just doing the things that have to get done. At times, stopping to play a game with my kids, or having sex with my husband just feel like they require too much effort.

It's not fair to my kids. It's not fair to my husband. It's not fair to myself.

I'm cheating myself out of the life that I deserve.

It's not good for your body, your heart, or your soul.

I lost my mom at a young age. She always put herself last, went through the motions, and lived each day wishing for the next one to come.

She was alive, but she never REALLY got to LIVE.

I'm not the only one with a story like this.

Love yourself, take the absolute best care of yourself, so that you can love with all of your heart. Be there for those special people in your life for when they need you.

I'm trying to take better care of myself. Every day I take a moment to remind myself of what I need, and want.

Your kids, your husband, and your sex life will thank you.

I'm starting to learn to love myself, flaws and all.

I do it for my children, for my husband, but most importantly, for myself as well.

Time doesn't stop for us, and we can't get it back, so we have to remember to take time for ourselves as well.

It's just a matter of choice.

Sincerely,

Mama of Romance
xoxo