No, not about ducky sex. Human sex this time.
Summer’s post on sex got me into a real rant. I, too, haven’t been much interested in sex since J was born, over two years ago. I’m tandem nursing and I’m really, really busy. The drive just isn’t there, at least not in the conventional sense. I mean, sometimes I wouldn’t mind curling up to a vibrator, but that’s different. The vibrator requires no kisses, no payback, and almost no physical effort.
But here’s the rant –I’m not crying about it, and I’m tired of the pity! A few weeks back, I happened to mention to my sister that I hadn’t had sex in a really long time. The response I got was shock and utter pity. Like, poor, poor Trish having to go without for so long….woe is her. Blah. Hold you pity, people. I mean, I might occasionally have a passing thought of regret whisper through my mind, but it isn’t something I’m really depressed about. My sisters meant well – they jumped into action to give Arp and I a date, even suggesting that J spend the night away from me. There was no way that was going to happen! Am I supposed to prematurely push my nursing child out of the bed for the night just to get some sex? Pulease. They also did another lovely thing. They mentioned my lack of sex to my entire family on Father’s Day. Now I have the pity of dozens of family to revel in.
I have looked the sex thing in the face and this is what I have decided: I don’t really care much about it right now, but I’m pretty darn sure I will again someday. Life is long, and my love and friendship for my husband does not depend on sex. If it did, I wouldn’t be married to him. I pretty sure there are millions of people going through a dry spell right now, besides me. So stop pitying me already, darn it.