OK, so you might have heard a lot about how “parent sex” is basically what happens in the bathroom with the door locked in the 5 minutes the kids are distracted by ABC2.
I’m not gonna lie though, when my kids are all occupied, my usual go-to is to hide in my bedroom and eat all the secret snacks. #toeachtheirown
I’ve been thinking about this a bit lately though, in between trying to figure out what the hell to make for dinner that isn’t spaghetti bolognese and simultaneously coming up with reasons I haven’t already used to not go on the class excursion to the fucking maritime museum.
The very idea of parent sex is fraught with obstacles [otherwise known as children].
For me personally, it was discovering a very special form of birth control known commonly as “my spouse calling me ‘mummy’ in the course of regular adult conversation”. You’ll be interested to note, this technique of contraception works much like a vasectomy and/or your husband giving you a step by step guide as to the “right way” of loading the dishwasher; it’s 100% effective at preventing pregnancy.
After you have kids, it’s kind of like being a teenager again, sex is probably only going to happen if you sneak around in an effort not to get sprung [pardon the pun]. But at some point after having kids [like, basically immediately], the idea of having a nap oft supersedes the idea of having sex, because you’re fucking exhausted. And dirty talk becomes that conversation you have about about the dishes. The laundry. The floor. The toilets.
It’s a simpler time, however. Sometimes foreplay can be as simple as me staying in my day time leggings instead of switching to my night time leggings, or my husband coming home from the supermarket having bought ALL the things I actually wrote on the list.
You have 7 minutes to get it done while ‘Bluey’ is on and the kids are distracted… and you’re done in 5. You’re efficient. Productive. Intentional. Have good time management skills. Can produce results and work to short deadlines. Suddenly you’re everything you lied about being on your resume when you were 25.
Sex after kids does mean being more spontaneous and seizing the moment when it arises [these puns are literally writing themselves at this point]. Admittedly, sometimes it’s difficult to keep the romance alive in the midst of text message threads that read like government health advisory warnings [“there’s an outbreak of hand foot and mouth at school”, “don’t forget to buy Combantrin”, “can you google ‘what does a ring worm look like’?”, “I think I’m getting conjunctivitis”].
But, I mean, when all else fails, alcohol kills bacteria right? Make mine a double!
Kim Kardashian once asked if having sex after having children was like throwing a hot dog down a hallway.
But at this point, if the hot dog was cooked by someone other than me and the hallway has been vacuumed and isn’t littered with kids dirty washing that didn’t quite make it from the bathroom to the laundry, I don’t even care. Frankly, if the hot dog makes it down the hallway without the house proclaiming it has a headache, someone is doing something right.
I’m sure there’ll be lots of parents who are far better at allocating time for the old crashing of the custard truck than I am. And I salute you. But for all those other parents out there that have managed to fall asleep naked whilst discussing the mere possibility of having sex with your spouse; I see you. I mean not literally, because that would be fucking weird. And probably pretty awkward for everyone involved. But, figuratively. I see you.
And can we just be honest for a minute? When you’re a parent, sometimes getting lucky just really is less about having sex and more about having takeaway.