Get it on, in your own time, on your own red-hot term
Cosmo girls have sizzling sex. They scorch up the sheets and drive their men to distraction with ticklers and little finger tricks. They do things like lick their lips seductively, answer the door in French knickers holding a bowl of whipped cream and disappear under the bistro table, with a pat of butter. Intimidating for the rest of us, who schedule the event a few days ahead and inevitably either forget or sleep through the Sunday morning sex date. We must remember : Cosmo girls are eighteen, wear a size 6 and do not have babies. But women’s magazines are where most of us learned about sex – how to do it better, how to wrap our legs around our ears like a pretzel and how to go multiple. It’s also how we all like to think we are in bed. And that may be true – for the first six months of a relationship. Despite all the advice out there, there’s a small gap in the market about how to keep a sizzling sex life going fifteen years and three children later. In fact, forget sizzling, any sex at all will do. And don’t be fooled into thinking it only drops off after three kids. Even just the one can take up all your energy and time: all of a sudden you realise that the last time you had sex was after seven Kir Royales at Aunt Tilly’s sixtieth … and that was six months ago.
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Are you not quite holding it together? Do you suspect that there are other moms out there who are struggling like you? Would you like to – Shock! Horror! - have a good laugh at it all? Fortunately, to keep us bad girls sane, there has been somewhat of a backlaash against the super-serious advise and mega-moms who seem to cope with everything.
Writers are coming out of the closets nad are leetting other women know that perfet moms are all an illusion. Taking a slow cue from Ab fab's notorious anti-mom Eddie, the Brits were the first off the block. The British web-site Bad Mothers Club has a new standard for mothers who are prepared to stand up and say : “It sucks.” You have taken three months off your job, glowed through the pregnancy, touched up your roots for the birth and squeezed in a Brazilian wax so it’s all tidy for the event. You locked your glass corner office in front of your 200 staffers at the farewell breakfast they organised. They had to drag you out, if truth be told. “I’ll be back,” you snarled with your Austrian accent at its practised best. You know how to play for laughs.
So here you are at home with your new baby. Home alone. Everything looks the same. Same garden, same television, same fridge. But everything is different. You are supposed to have beautiful skin, a smile on your face and a lovely baby attached to your breast. You are supposed to gaze beautifically at her and gently rock as you doze off to sleep together on a rug in the dappled afternoon shade. You are not supposed to be hysterical, frazzled, anxious, manic and desperately trying to hold it together. Everything is wrong, yet there is no reason. You had a perfect birth, you have a supportive and loving husband, you have a nanny waiting in the wings, a nursery full of everything that squeaks and glitters. So what is wrong? Why are you not coping? |
sarah bullenSarah Bullen is an author, writing mentor and literary agent. Archives
February 2022
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