Just lie back and think of England..

When did sex stop being kinky?

I vividly remember having a sex life before I had children, and not even the lie back and think of England kind. I’m talking about the can’t keep your hands off each other, going at it like rabbits kind of kinky sex. Having sex for the first time after you’ve been through the trauma of labour is like losing your virginity again, but much scarier. kinky sex now is just staying awake during sex or making the effort to take your socks off. Sexy lingerie is a thing of the past, because now you have to shoe horn yourself into it and that can take longer than the sex. Messing around with stockings and suspenders is an impossible challenge of coordination when you’ve only had three hours sleep. Sexy lingerie is now anything matching, anything that hasn’t turned grey in the wash or anything you can find clean in the drawer. Dirty sex is sex with your t-shirt on, the t-shirt which still has the baked beans stain down the front that your toddler wiped all over you at breakfast.
Remembering to shave your legs is not even a priority these days, because when you have to explain to two little boys why you’re trying to get your leg behind your head you just cant be bothered. I’ve never been to a yoga class in my life, but some of the positions I need to get my legs into to be hair free requires way too much flexibility. I can’t even remember the last time I had a bath without a World War breaking out or without somebody pleading with me to ‘come and wipe my bum’.
Sleep deprivation and the pressures of motherhood can leave you with the libido of a slug, but everything improves with time, everybody gets back into the groove. My advice is to embrace the quickie, and if you want to get your sex life back on track and you don’t want any more children , tell your partner to keep a sock on..

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‘It’s like throwing a Hot dog up an alleyway’….

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You’ve just had an a 9lb baby with the head the size of a football, and the last thing you want to think about is resuming your sex life. You wish you’d seriously considered dating the Mr Bean look -alike, with the ridiculously small head that all your friends had laughed at, but at least you wouldn’t have needed that episiotomy with his son. The broad rugby shoulders and body that attracted you to your partner actually don’t seem that attractive when you’ve had to have forceps to get your baby out. And once you’ve really taken into consideration how enormous your husbands head is, the chance of your child having a sibling is very slim.

Labour is painful, you’ve been torn and stitched back up again, so the idea of having sex again seems as appealing as running a marathon in your nursing bra and Bridget Jones passion killers. Before having children, playing with your breast was welcomed foreplay, now it’s a motive for murder. Your bed is no longer 50 shades of Grey, but more 40 winks. I remember when I used to sneak off to bed to have a quickie with my partner, now a quickie is a twenty minute catnap before I’m forced to get up and start feeding or wiping bums again.

Once you do get back to feeling normal and the 3rd degree tear has repaired, there’s always that worry of you going back to normal ‘down there’. Your partner has seen a baby destroy something that has given him so much pleasure. It’s been stretched so much you’ll be doing your pelvic floor exercises at Bingo, so that it doesn’t feel like a Wizard’s sleeve.

But there is hope ladies, it does go back to normal – the sex life and the vagina, but if it doesn’t, then you need to consider dating somebody with a smaller head or bigger Hot dog.