August 28, 2008
A friend of mine raved about her new boyfriend and just how talented he was in bed. Apparently when he was younger he canoodled with an older woman who trained him.
What a symbiotic relationship: she was able to mold this young energetic kid who was probably eager to please into her personal nymph and he got the guidance and direction that every teenage boy should have.
My friend broke up with him but they remained platonic friends even while she moved in with a new boyfriend and subsequently got engaged. (She then called off the wedding but was actually married last weekend to someone else, but I digress.) My friend did end up connecting me with her ex, the well trained alleged stud in the bed.
One joint led to another one night and I decided to test out the goods. What single lady doesn’t deserve a great fuck? So we meandered into the bedroom with my hopes (among other things) high. I do not know if my friend has had limited sex or I have had a lot or this guy pulled out all of the moves for her (which I doubt because what guy is not going to try his best to impress on the first go around? Readers: thoughts? ) or something, but he did not deliver. He came through, but as for mind-blowing-knock-my-socks-off-I-want-to-come-just-thinking-about-it sex, not so much.
We romped a few more times, each time hoping that some amazing move would emerge. While he did have one or two original (at the time) signature positions, it was certainly nothing amazing. As for the older woman who trained him, maybe she was once a nun.
August 27, 2008
The other day I took my Pookers to a take out restaurant with outdoor seating. A gaggle of moms watching their children play in the open field commented how cute my daughter was. (So it is not just me who finds her exceptional.) I thanked them and began to wheel her from the brick seating area to the grassy square so she could watch and chase the bigger kids.
Since it was all of about 10 yards, I could have carried her and pushed the stroller with one hand. I could have fastened her into the stroller too as the instruction manual insists. Instead, I took the lazy mommy route and pushed the stroller with my baby sitting upright. At least she was sitting upright until we hit a snag transitioning to the dirt. My daughter fell face first into the dirt in front of all of the moms who were just admiring my daughter and their children who took a break from their game of tag to watch my embarrassment.
I held my screaming baby as the witnesses tried to comfort telling me that she landed on the soft earth. I brushed the dirt from her face and clothing yet it remained surprisingly stubborn on her lips and chin.
Someone once told me that babies tend to freak out more from the loss of control when falling then the actual body on ground impact. I know Pookie was probably more scared than hurt but the screaming of bloody murder around the small beach community made it sound like I was torturing my angel.
And so I get nominated in the Bad Mommy Category for the day.
August 26, 2008
Two couples committed to having lots of sex and writing a book about it. An older
couple agreed to do it everyday for a year and a younger couple without children
decided to do it consecutively for 100 days.
It seems like the type of gift or commitment I would have made when I was younger,
before marriage (because my husband was coming home at 12 at night), before a baby,
before responsibilities and fatigue took up a permanent residence in my life.
The couples wrote books about their experiences and commented how the sex did feel
like a chore at times but it eventually brought them closer together. I’m sure
writing about it and getting the book published helped.
These days, I wonder if I can get out of sex for 100 days. I know this contradicts
previous posts, but I am at the stage in my pregnancy where the belly is rapidly
growing and the horny hormones have not kicked in. Foreplay, flirting and all the
stuff that leads to sex is appealing, but the actual intercourse, not so much these
August 13, 2008
Last night I saw a beautiful calm mother with four kids and a bulging belly. She sat with another woman who I thought could be the mom of at least one or two of the kids. When the second lady failed to discipline or “guide” any of the children, I wondered her relationship to the crew. The set of girls and the set of boys looked close enough in age to be friends. Perhaps the pregnant mom was taking her two kids and their two friends out for dinner and ice cream.
When she left and said goodbye to me and my daughter, I asked if all four kids were hers. “Yes,” she said. Wow! I am blown away not only by her beauty, her relaxed mothering style and the fact that her petite body was harvesting another child but by her overall tranquility. What an inspiration.
A little bit later after my daughter took a tumble out of her stroller in front of a crew of mothers and their kids (I didn’t strap her in for the five yard walk) we met another attractive and stylish mom of a little girl. The very fit mother told me that her two year old was the youngest of four. She is the second mother I met out here recently that makes having four kids look easy, fun and stylish. These moms don’t look like they have spent less time being caught up in the petty mothering competition that I have seen, than say reading Lucky magazine.
As I find myself getting frustrated on this solo trip with my daughter and misbehaving pooch, I try to channel my inner super mom and smile.
One of the best pieces of mothering advice I received, from *my best college friend* who doesn’t take my calls anymore, was that it is so easy in the beginning and you do not realize it. I have to imagine now that no matter what, next summer will not be this easy with two kids. But perhaps if I can get rid of the dog, I may have a little advantage. 🙂
August 13, 2008
My first kiss at sleep away camp was sloppy and wet. I remember thinking during the kiss, *this is it! I’m doing it! This is french kissing!* That night as I tried to fall asleep on my top bunk i felt his juices dry on my face, and thought of them that morning as I washed my face. His saliva around my mouth was a memento, proof that I had kissed him. I thought about and relived that kiss countless times. That is, until he dumped me for a friend, the beginning of a trend that followed me for more years than I care to acknowledge.
My first sexual experience was not terribly difference. I thought *this is it! I’m doing it! This is sex!* It was equally sloppy and not as satisfying as that camp kiss. He too would go on to sleep with a friend the night of his senior graduation.
Not sure if this is a sign that I should pick better friends or boyfriends or both.
This past weekend my husband and I did it, twice. Saturday night, he acquiesced after oral persuading. Sunday I forwent my nap because we had the house to ourselves. Today, Tuesday, I am still sore and think about our activities when I go to the bathroom or change. I should be used to his size by now, but, and perhaps it’s related to the pregnancy, I have a physical souvenir.
August 11, 2008
I am not turned on by fingers and I think I made it clear that old lady hands have no place in any porn that I want to see. Poorly maintained fingers and cuticles are definitely turn offs.
I once dated a guy (okay several guys) who did not care for their nails. I remember staring at his hands with the dirt lodged under the fingernails and thinking that I was going to let those hands caress my bare body.
My husband however likes fingers. He likes me sucking mine, he likes sucking mine, he likes me sucking his after other juices are on them and I want to vomit. I acquiesce for a moment because I do not want to kill the mood entirely, but I am extremely turned off.
There are a few sexual activities that I can tolerate for the moment and then there are the fetishes that do not appeal me. I guess one man’s excitement is another woman’s repulsion. So I must be lucky if this is one of our big sexual incompatibilities and it does not pop up too often (kind of like sex).
August 1, 2008
People have commented that I have nice feet. Really? You can see the bones and the veins. My toes are nothing special, if anything a little chunky at the end. I was always jealous that my sister could stretch her toes apart and crack them, although I really just wanted to make that noise to annoy her they way she could vex me. I never thought feet could be sexy, but they can definitely be unsexy. I’ve seen growths on the side of the foot where the big toe meets the foot. Are they bunions? They are unsexy. I’m not sure if they are the result of girls wearing too high heels too often, but it makes me grateful to be a late blooming fashionista. I’ve seen calluses on top of the toe knuckles. Not sexy. I would say my feet are average looking, but I guess that is better than most.
When I was 22 and living in Venice, I received a call from a student at UCLA doing research. He proceeded to ask me about feet, foot fetishes, and so on. A recent graduate with some free time, I happily and honestly obliged. It took my friend to point out that this was a prank. I called the number the guy gave me as his own and it belonged to someone else.
My husband adores my feet. He has me wear high heels to bed and has bought me lots of uncomfortable shoes I would never pick out for myself. I love a great foot rub and any attention to my feet feels good, as long as I don’t have to reciprocate.