I'm All Messed Up

Robert & I are the average American couple. We drive Fords. We believe in the justice system. We have 2, someday 2.5, kids. We are all American. And, like any other red-blooded, American couple, we often get stuck in a rut.

It's the tired rut. The I have a headache rut. I've been working all day rut. The kids are driving my completely insane rut. The my ass is sagging, my breasts are leaking, I haven't washed my hair in two days rut.

Robert and I are the average American couple. Generally, we boink, excuse me--"make love" once every week and a half. It isn't insane. Where do you find two working genitals? Where you do not find two screaming children. It's true. Our kids are spaced years apart, but they require different things. They have different bedtimes. And, honestly, sometimes Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy gets in the way.

We've done the creative thing--i.e did it in the walk-in, the shower. Never my office, but now that the idea has popped up we'll see. And, we've tried getting the kids to bed sooner. Yeah, right. And, we've tried to stay up later, but we're getting older and there is work in the morning.

So, we challenged each other. I told Robert that we need to "fuck more." It's true. I said this. He agreed. Ahhh...the power of communication. So, I told him we should mark it on the calendar. He said he would mark the days that I say no on the calendar, too. Fine with me. Cause I say yes more than I say no, anyway.

Three happy faces in a row on our calendar. This is, in no way, an easy feat. Good thing we started on the weekend. This started about the same time my hip started to hurt. By the way, you can't say, "Rub my hip." to your husband without him attempting at touching you elsewhere. I have found this out the hard way. (Get it? The hard way?)

So, first my hip hurts.

Then Monday, I feel a raging bladder infection coming on.

Tuesday, I have a clogged milk duct. No one wants to have sex with a clogged milk duct. It hurts to walk. There is no way you can be swinging the girls about in an awkward and embarrassing rhythmic motion.

Today, Wednesday, I have realized that I'm not a pullet anymore. I am a hen. I've laid two eggs. Of course my hip is falling apart. Of course, I'm tired. It's a given that my boob would leak. Still, I am determined to have four happy faces this week. Even if it KILLS ME!