Kiss Me My Darling, Darling I Need You.

Chapter 1: Mommy Time.

I set the weary boy down on the mattress, hoping he'd stay in this state of sleep. He did. His hair was still damp from bath time, they sat in perfect dark honey ringlets that swirled around his face lazily. The soother was plugged in between his lips, he sucked on it reassuringly. He never stirred as I pulled the blanket from the bottom of the bed over him. The music box on the dresser played Mozart quietly by the plug in nightlight. I brushed some of his hair away from his forehead with a ghostly touch, leaned down and pressed my lips to the cool skin.

"Good night and sweet dreams, mommy loves you." I breathed softly, standing up right again. His nose never once wrinkled. I quietly snuck out of the small bedroom, closing the door very softly behind me. I finally sighed a breath of relief and trotted off to finish being mommy for the day before I could turn in for the night.

I sighed as I sat down at the small desk in the corner of the living room, where my candy apple red laptop remained. I just finished doing the dishes, sorting the laundry, doing the laundry, sweeping, mopping and cleaning up Seth's daily mess, after putting Seth to bed at the end of a very exhausting day of bouncing between the park, the market, the grocery store, and keeping up with Seth. I was tired and very much ready for bed, but I had to post something on the blog. Anything would do. Gibberish can be easily fed to small minded people. Believe me, I'm a fiction writer. I've been argued with about the fictional things that I write. Yes, that's right, people actually argue with me over something I created.

In a last ditch effort to get something written before zombie mom came alive, I poured myself a glass of red wine and stared at the blank screen defeatedly. My mind couldn't help to wander through the possibilities of what I could write about. I could write about the difficulty of being a single mom, but I've written about that already. The other moms at the park suggested some recipes I could post, or kid's fashion for back to school; but then the conversation took a turn for the unexpected. They started gossiping about their husbands and their sex lives. I had nothing to gossip about because the last time I had sex, I ended up pregnant with Seth four years ago. I was the dullest mom at the park. And I was also one of the oldest. A lot of the moms are still in their twenties, while others are in theirs forties already. I suppose I'm the middle ground; the shade of grey. The women of Cape Cod, Massachusetts don't fuck around when it comes to baby making. They either start as teens or go for Grandma years. It's actually really disturbing how young some of these moms are. There's a girl these who is four years younger than me and she has four kids already, I'm still on number one. There's also a teenage mother at Daycare, she just had her baby in April. I feel so bad for her, she'll never get the freedom I got to experience. I don't know what these girls are thinking getting pregnant so young, or so old. It's dangerous for both them and the baby. Either way, I'm thirty-three years old and the sexually dullest mom at the park.

My head perked up when I realized what I could write about. It was so obvious, every mom reads these things and talks about these things. How come I didn't think of this before? I may be the dullest mom at the park but I've had my fair share of sexual experiences. Oh! Note to self: I still owe Jorel a belt. I grinned to myself at the memory.

It didn't take long for my fingers to fly against the keys like a crazy pianist in an orchestra. My fingers were itching to get something typed out, gibberish would've worked. But I struck my gold mine. There was no need for gibberish now, I've got my inspiration and I'm running with it.

I'm sitting at my desk after a long day of motherhood, trying to come up with a topic of tonight's post. It's very difficult to think right now, and it's not because of the red wine I have beside me. No, it's because I'm not a human being anymore. I'm a mom and I'm a writer. There is no time for me to get dressed up and go out for dinner and drinks, hell, I can only have one glass of wine a night. I just turned thirty-three this year and I have forgotten what it's like to not talk baby talk or to not talk about the latest trends for toddlers; my son has consumed my life, and I'm feeling a little suffocated. I'm sure a lot of you feel the same way, you love your kid(s) but they've consumed who you once were.

I remember exactly who I was when I met Seth's dad. I was five when we met and became best friends, we didn't start dating until we were fifteen. I was a mischievous sexually frustrated teenage girl who wanted nothing more than to have my way with him. We dated until we were twenty-one then we broke up, and boy oh boy, it was a messy break up. But it was for the best that we went our separate ways. Eight years later I was with someone else and we were engaged, that was the year that Seth's dad popped back into my life. My fiancé at the time didn't trust me around Seth's dad, but he sent him on tour with me anyway. I understand that I was in the wrong for doing this, believe me, I paid for it. I had an affair with Seth's dad and I ended up pregnant. But I also found out that my fiancé was cheating on me. I knew that after that we couldn't trust each other so I called off the wedding and came to Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Seth's dad hasn't been a part of Seth's life, and that is something I'm moderately okay with.

I sit here, wondering why I'm remembering my old life. Why am I reminiscing about how my motherhood came to be. That's right ladies, Mommy and Me goes after dark. Tonight's topic is sex.

A lot of first time moms find it hard to find time for ourselves, let alone to please a partner. We find that our kids consume our social lives and our sex lives the moment they begin to exist. Now, we love our little monsters but we need time to ourselves, and separate time for pleasing our partner. My question is: When? Where? And how? When do we get to enjoy our partner physically? Do we do it when the kids are tucked away in bed? Or away at a friend's house? Where do you do it? Your bedroom? Behind closed and locked doors? Where would you start with it? A little foreplay? A nibble on the neck, a whisper in the ear? How would you get your spark back? Maybe a little foreplay, a couple of naughty text messages? How would you get your partner on board with this? People look at foreplay like Christians look at the devil, like it's an abomination. Like it's this dirty thing that just doesn't happen in the parenting world. But it does, and it works most of the time. It saves relationships and families on the brink of divorce. It may be a bit naughty and weird at first but it mostly helps you to rebuild that bond you once had with your partner.

Yes, today I have come to the startling but saddening facto, I, Bow Rivera, have not had sex in three years and ten months. For some of you, it might be longer, or it might be shorter. But nevertheless, my sexually frustrated teenage years are done, for now. But my question still stands: how do parents rekindle their sexual relationship? Does it make a difference if you're with your child's other biological parent or if you two are separated? I haven't spoken to Seth's dad in four years, I have no idea what kind of sexual relationship he's been having, but mine in non existent. I'd imagine that if you're separated it'd mean you could have some bed time fun while the little mood killer is with the other parent. I see how that'd work, but what about the parents who are still together? How do they find the time to be themselves and have a sex life?

Before Seth was born, his dad and I were very active with each other. This is before the break up. If there was a back room, closet or enclosed space where we could be alone for a couple of minutes, we were at it. I remember a particular time, it was the day that I found out I was being entered into Typewriters of California, his band just got signed with MySpace records so we were at a mutual friend's house for a party. After a couple rounds of beer pong and tequila shots, he started to feel me up, might I add his best friend is standing inches away from us at that same exact moment? Yeah, so he's feeling me up, trying to get me to call a cab to take us home. Finally, his friend pipes up and tells us to get a room, the next thing I know I'm hoisted over his shoulder and we're heading to his best friend's basement bedroom. Well, we didn't break the bed but there were some noise complaints so I call that a victory. I just remembered that we still owe his friend a new belt to replace the one we used. Dont ask, it's best if you don't know.

That story is besides the point, the point is: if you have time to shower or to sort laundry, then you have time to have sex. I mean, if it's not a big deal in your relationship then fine, but if your partner wants sex then a little handy at bed time could be the ticket to rebuilding that bond. Hell, let them do you from behind if you just want to catch up on your Real Housewives of... Or that romance novel you've been reading for the past five months. The point of this post is: Just because you have kids doesn't mean you should stop having sex. It's a great way to relive stress and bond with your partner again. Don't neglect your needs or theirs.

I stopped writing the moment I came to realize that I missed Matt. I missed the way he smelt, I missed the way he smiled and laughed. I missed the way he'd always look grumpy even when he wasn't. I missed being able to touch his skin, or to go out bed at night and have his arms wrapped around me. It's like a lightbulb went off over my head, I saw that I haven't ever stopped missing him. Is that true love? Or is it an obsession?