I remember being a new mom. It was glorious and amazing but exhausting and all consuming. When I finally fell into bed at night all I could think about was how many hours of sleep I could squeeze in before somebody woke up and needed me. Sex changed and became a leaky breasted, ignore the crying baby, "oh just get it over with" kind of thing. It still had it's fun moments but I missed the spontaneity and lust. I couldn't wait until the kids were older because I thought it would be easier to find some time to sneak off and be together.
Now that they are older it's even more difficult. I'm not near as exhausted or sleep deprived but now they KNOW what we are up to. They know what the sly looks, whispers and throaty giggles mean. They have a vague idea what we are doing when we sneak off upstairs, shut the door and push the chair in front of it. They've caught onto our Saturday morning plan. "Hey kids, wouldn't you like to watch a movie and have popcorn for breakfast? No, not that movie. The really LONG one." And the fact that they know just plain grosses me out.
So today I was in my room painting my toenails and my husband was getting dressed for work. We thought we were alone upstairs so we didn't talk in hushed tones. The bedroom door was open and Chris says something like this to me...
"Hey, I kinda want to do it."
"Right now? Don't you have to be somewhere?"
"There's always time."
Followed by giggles and whispers and more giggles.
And in that glowy moment of possibility we heard a disgusted teenage voice call across the hallway...
"Uh....I'm up here ya know!"
And it was over like that.