Another Vibrating Adventure

Saying my children share a room is an embellishment. My Manhattan kiddies share a nook not legally called a bedroom because it lacks a window. A small four by four window peering into an air shaft would qualify the space as a bedroom, but alas, we just have French doors with frosted glass enclosing the two into the small space.

The cribs are close together. Less than a foot separates the space so narrow that my toddler daughter must turn sideways to squeeze into the gap that divides their respective beds. Naturally, the kids communicate to each other in the evening. On nights when my two exhaust me I will listen to the chatter upstairs with a glass of wine in my hand.

On one particular evening I had muted the television to decipher if the noise emanating from the children’s room was one that necessitated attention. With no shrieks or shrills I resumed my television viewing. Eventually I could no longer ignore the odd sounds so I ventured towards the room.

Sexy Playing Cards

When my friend offered me some of her sample products from SWAK, the direct marketing sex company, I swiped a whip with a feather on one end, a pair of restraints and a deck of cards. Each card depicted a new position with a creative name, and a few cards offered Lady’s Choice or Man’s Choice.

I opted against taking the handcuffs lest I get stopped at airport security like my sister did on the way back from her honeymoon. I had given her handcuffs and the Italians stopped them. Finally my brother in law tossed them in the garbage so they could board the plane. (Pre 9/11)

I made it through security without a hitch. Instead of just showing my husband the new goodies, I decided to surprise him little by little. I started off by taking a few cards and slipping them in every pant and suit pocket. It was not until I found a few cards in the key drawer that I asked him about it. You would think that he would have commented TO ME about the cards, not vice versa.

Can’t blame me for trying.

Romance

Today I saw a woman on a street corner getting ready to cross the street when a guy ran up to her, kissed her passionately and walked away. At least this is what it appeared to be from a block away.

i miss romance. I wish my husband could not count on me to put out and would spend some time trying to seduce me without taking it as a given. Next time we do it, maybe he’ll even take his socks off.

Perhaps i should rename this blog, MWF, Mom Wants a F***. Really, it’s
MWS- Mom wants to be seduced.
MWF -Mom wants to Flirt.
MWA – Mom wants action.

Any other thoughts?

Am I a MILF?

I cannot remember the last time a guy hit on me. I just can’t.

Sometimes I think a cute guy might be flirting with me, but when I am pushing around a bulky stroller with a small baby, I have to believe that he is just humoring me.

Even when I am not with baby, I wonder if a single man or even woman at this point finds me attractive enough to strike up a conversation. I can’t imagine the entire population of Manhattan is too shy to talk.

When I was pregnant my husband was so turned off by me because I looked “matronly”. Thanks babe. Just caring our love child for 75% of a year while you are out drinking scotch, going to concerts and asking me to be your designated driver.

I heard they make Pregnancy Porn. I haven’t seen one, but if they were done tactfully (as tactful as a soft core porn can be) i would have considered signing up. They would not even need to pay me. I would do it to feel sexy and get some attention.

I’m still yearning for someone to find me hot. Which some of my husband’s friends do, okay only one tells me. He is not my type. It’s still nice to hear. I’m after the attention, not the action.

I’m back in my old pre-pregnancy jeans. In fact, some of them are even too big on me. This could be because I wore them far enough into my pregnancy to stretch them, but they are still big on me. The pilates class at my gym is showing in my defined abs. Yeah!

Now hit on me! (In that non-sleazy flattering sort of way) I’m a great tease.