Meeting the S e x Post Quota

It occurs to me that all the "cool kids" have no problems using all the foul language they need to express their points. Nor do they feel obligated to avoid talking about s e x or poking fun at religion.

I, on the other hand, feel like my blog should be a little muted. Don't get me wrong, I have a foul mouth, especially in my head. It was much worse before I had kids. And I talk about s e x, to the people I know. But for fear of scaring away potential customers I try to tone it down in my posts.

Now I am thinking maybe I should just write my profile to say something like "sorry about the potty mouth, and the tasteless subject matter. I'm really not trailer park white trash, I swear. But if you can manage to take it for what it is, you might find that it is funny." What do you think?
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Let me just start by saying I really enjoy, um... "time" (that will be the code word for s e x in this post) with my husband. He, of course, thinks we don't spend enough time together. But after having read somewhere that most married couples have "time" together less than once per week but more than once every 2 weeks, I feel good about the amount of time we spend together. We are above average for a married couple with 2 kids.

I don't really mind spending time with him during that visit from evil Aunt Flo. But that is generally for his benefit. Mostly I opt for the shower. I don't really enjoy our time under those conditions. I am too stress out about the mess, and I generally think it's kind of gross. This is leading up to: It is rare for us to spend time together while that Bitch Flo is here. Which kind of sucks because she over stays her welcome most months.

So this time she packed her bags and headed out of town on Sunday. Sunday afternoon, when my hubby was feeling frisky, I told him I would be back in action on Monday, because I like to wait a day, and feel more "fresh".

Monday I walked Tori to school. When Lex and I got home, I set her up on Noggin.com to play computer. Then I headed for the shower. I was really looking forward to my shower, as I noticed the night before the hair on my upper legs was approaching and inch long. I know it's gross, but I only shave the lower half in the winter. So I shaved all the way up to my hips.

Now I'm feeling good. I am clean, and with freshly shaved legs. It's a beautiful spring day, sunny and warm. I am having an all around great day. I got some work done in the studio. Picked up the house a little bit. All the while looking forward to spending some time with my husband later that evening. (It's funny how you don't want time, until you can't have it.) Anyway, like I said, I was having a great day... That is until that Bitch decided she hadn't spent enough quality time with me and came back! Urg, I was so mad. I spent all that energy shaving and making myself beautiful, and for what? Damn it!

Meanwhile, my husband's shop lost power yesterday. So I can just imagine as he was driving home, early, from work what he was thinking about. Let us not forget that I had told him the day before that Monday was The Day. I mean had I not told him that, he might have decided to go have a beer with his buddy from work or something. But no, he drove straight home, probably thinking about the good good lovin', er, I mean time, he was sure to get with his wife.

And... This is the story of my life. I can be having a great day, well rested, not stressed out and feeling frisky myself. But the moment I let my poor husband know he is sure to be spending time with me, it's like the tides shift all of the sudden. And then, for some reason, events are set into motion that all but insure there will be no time together.

I had to tell my husband as he walked in the door, "I was having a great day, until I realized I wasn't actually done with Flo" He took the news very well, but he is used to this sort of thing. We have figured out that if I am playful and flirty with him, pinching His butt while he cooks, or grabbing him in the hall for a nice long hug, there will be no time that day. I have really started trying to NOT indicate that I would like to spend some time. Because I wish I could spend more time with him, and telling him about it seems to ruin the whole ordeal.

Well it is now Tues. morning. And she is still holding out. Making me miserable, and generally being a pain in the ass. I am now in sweats and a ponytail. And, let me check, yep, I can feel the hair on my legs already.