C’mon married peoples with kids. The best time for sex is after lunch. There I’ve said it!
Late afternoon and evening it’s all about the kids, dinner and household jobs. I feel like writing a long ‘to do’ list to boast how involved it is, but all you parents out there already know. And everyone else will be bored, so I’ll spare you. Suffice to say that come 8pm, the couch is looking pretty cosy for one person and one person alone, with a good dose of silence, or headphones if the older kids are still around. It takes a while to come down from all the hullabaloo. Then if you’re lucky enough to have timeout, rather than doing more work while you’re kid free, unfortunately it doesn’t last forever. 9:30pm and it’s time to start the before bed ‘to do’ list. The husband’s list is pretty easy – hop into bed. The wives know that their list is long – you’ve probably read it before on an internet meme – so I won’t bore you. Then 10pm comes and you really need to go to sleep, cos it’s up at 6:30am and you need all the sleep you can get.
Sleep is looking good. Just one problem… Sharing the same bed with your other half lends itself to snuggles, and snuggles lend themselves to… um… yes, well there’s lots of things that can happen after snuggles. Sometimes the energy rises to the occasion and sometimes it doesn’t. We could call that one sleepy sex. But as my husband says, even bad sex is good sex.
But if one doesn’t want to live in sleepy sex land for one’s entire child raising season, then I vote for ‘after lunch sex’. Surprise dates during the week are awesome. Lunchtime trysts during a work week. Or weekend creativity. Our kids call it DVD time, we call it something else… Win win!!!
My husband and I have five children, two with microcephaly (both girls).
I’m finding myself grateful today that one of the girls is partially toilet trained. At seven years of age, that’s definitely behind the average, but she’s still ahead of her nine year old sister. The reason I’m glad is because she really knows how to do number two. I’m telling you that it’s a myth that we all poo once a day. No siree. It can be many, many times. And it’s not fun cleaning that up for a seven or nine year old. My close friend said to me one day after cleaning an accident that she will never ever complain about having to change kitty litter ever again. I’m telling you – I am a blessing to my friends!
You get to learn lots of patience in our household. I get to practice saying the same instructions, not just once or twice but over and over again. ‘Let’s put your shoes on. C’mon Summer time to put your shoes on. Look, here are your shoes. Look – pink shoes. Shoes make your feet warm. Let’s put your shoes on. We need shoes to keep our feet safe. Shoes on. C’mon. Shoes. Shoes. Shoes on.’ And I get to hear responses over and over again. It’s fun to hear how a toy is blue. Blue. Blue. (Yes, it’s blue). Blue. Blue. (Yes, blue). Blue. Blue. We get plenty of time to learn things and practice things, especially patience. Then it’s even more fun when the five year old starts complaining about the repetition and having a meltdown, which causes the nine year old to have a meltdown, which involves a punch to the seven year old, which sets her off too. Then the eleven year old yells at them to quiet down, which helps SO much. And thankfully the thirteen year old is in her room reading. Meanwhile mum is wearing headphones which helps her stay in happy land a little longer.
My friends laugh at me for my ‘calm’ voice. I hold it together, keeping the atmosphere smooth, ‘Summer, it’s breakfast time. That’s OK you don’t have to have porridge. You want yoghurt, sure. Here’s your yoghurt. You don’t want it. No problem. Don’t push it. Gentle with the plate. It’s OK. You’re a blessing Summer. Mummy loves you.’ It’s all calm, no pushing angry buttons here. I’ve learnt from experience. Until the eleven year old whinges and I’m like, ‘Be quiet’ (yelling). All in a split second, the façade drops. And then it’s (calmly) – ‘Summer you want yoghurt now. Good girl. Lovely eating. You don’t want it now. That’s OK. Don’t feed the dog. Sit down.’
I think our household would make excellent reality TV show viewing. Parents could all feel better about themselves and better about their challenges.
In the early days I read that kids with microcephaly are often very smiley and affectionate. Tick tick for our girls. Summer is so expressive with her love. She looks you in the eyes, she says ‘I love you mummy’ and sits on your lap and cuddles for ages. She strokes my head or my back. When I cry she wipes my tears and I get ministered to from her hugs. She has a gift that I can’t really comprehend, but I have been emotionally filled up on many occasions. Others have said the same. Once my husband took her to the supermarket and she saw a homeless man outside. She went up to him and gave him a hug. The man looked a little uncertain, but my husband nodded OK. Later after doing the shopping, she saw the man again and smiled. The man thanked my husband profusely saying it was such a long time since he had been hugged by a child. So innocent. So beautiful. I’m amazed at the gift she is.
Sarah is just such a sweety. I feel like I’m holding a rose and breathing in a beautiful fragrance. She giggles and smiles constantly. She’s naughty too and finds it funny. I’m not sure if developmentally she really understands yet. I can get so frustrated but she just smiles and giggles and says ha-ha in that annoying sing song fashion. She picked that up somewhere and hasn’t let it go. She’s more shy than Summer, but she’s got no problems with volume. Being the number four child, I think she learnt to shout instead of speak.
That’s enough musings for today. More another time…
