The TRUTH About Motherhood

Category: Marriage and Relationships

That’s What She Said
When the Big Guy and I met, we were in college. We, literally, had nothing to offer one another but ourselves. We were young, babies really; at the funny age where you look like an adult but you just don’t have the wisdom and experience in life to be a real grown up.
Ours was not a typical love story. We met, neither of us wanting or expecting anything out of the meeting, and somewhere between being completely unimpressed and a long walk home on a random autumn Monday night, we fell head over heels and we didn’t even know it. All we knew is that we craved the other’s company like air and before we knew it, being together was as natural as breathing.
It was easy, passionate and deep like most things in life tend to be in your early twenties. It was like coming home to the one place you were always meant to be, someplace that belonged to just the two of you.
There was no pretense of forethought in our relationship, we were completely ourselves and that was more than enough. Soon, he was my best friend and I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. When I say soon, I am not exaggerating. He proposed to me after dating for just under four months.
The impetuousness of our youth was what made the impossible possible. If we had been older, less trusting or worldlier we would have never jumped so blindly into the biggest decision of our lives. We would have over thought it. We would have waited. None of it made sense. It wasn’t love at first sight but from the first night that we spent talking, I knew he was someone that I wanted to get to know; someone worth knowing. Then, somewhere between physical lust and eternal devotion, we found unconditional love.
In those days, we were as happy sharing a bowl of Frosted Flakes on his futon as we were eating a five course meal at a five star restaurant. We were as happy camping out under the stars as we were staying in a chic diamond hotel in a booming metropolis. It’s never been about what we’re doing or where we’re doing, it’s always been about who we’re with. All we’ve ever needed to be happy is one another’s company and sincere conversation.
Though life has changed drastically these days and we no longer live in a tiny one bedroom apartment all we still need to be happy is one another. These days there are children deadlines, boards, travel and a million other responsibilities in our lives but at the heart of it all, we are still those two college kids sitting on the futon falling head over heels in love over a bowl of Frosted Flakes.
Disclosure: This is a compensated post written for Frosted Flakes but all opinions are my own.
2015/11/10
Life’s Sweetest Moments are Better Together
Disclosure: This post was sponsored by FiberOne through their partnership with POPSUGAR Select. While I was compensated to write a post about FiberOne Streusel Bars, all opinions are my own.
It’s been a crazy few weeks. The summer was spent busily planning for my sister’s wedding, traveling and meeting deadlines. It was chock-full of some of life’s great things, but sometimes even the best things in life can leave you exhausted and overwhelmed, whether it is planning a wedding, bringing home a new baby or taking your dream vacation. Sometimes, you just have to stop and breathe to fully enjoy everything. A moment of quiet “me” time to regroup and rejuvenate can make the world of difference in the midst of all the chaos.
I wasted this Summer looking forward to the finish line instead of enjoying the moments as they were happening. I had so much to do that instead of just enjoying all the great adventures and life changing milestones, I found myself just trying to get through them. I wanted to survive until the next chance for down time. I think all of us do this from time to time. Life is hectic and it’s hard to fully enjoy the moments when it all begins to feel like a chore.
A week ago, I was counting the days until I got to finally rest. Honestly, it was one day until my sister’s wedding and all of our scheduled plans for the Summer would be complete. After the rehearsal dinner, after all the commotion and stress of the day were washing over us and every one else had gone to bed, my baby sister and I sat there in her living room, lit by twinkling lights, and just talked about nothing in particular. This was one of the best moments of my entire Summer.
Right in the middle of the monsoon of wedding chaos, the biggest day of her life, we just took a moment to sit still and talk about everything and nothing all at the same time. It was the perfect act of combined “me” time. She had been stressing for months with planning and wedding details. I haven’t had the chance to catch my breath all Summer. This shared moment of quiet sisterhood was something we both really needed. Alone time allows me to regroup, but sister time has always allowed me to recharge because I know I have my sister to lean on, to share with and to understand and listen as does she with me. It’s different than “me” time but, for me, it is equally as important.
We sat on that couch beneath the twinkling lights, listening to ‘80s love songs that we used to include on our “sleep tapes” when we were in high school, and reminisced. We got hungry, so we ate strawberry streusel Fiber One® Bars while we sipped on wine and laughed about all the crazy, great times we had and those which are still to come. It was the perfect marriage of the sweet things in life and an unforgettable “we” moment. It was one of those perfect sister moments that mean nothing and everything, all at the same time.
After an hour or so of talking about everything that flew into our minds and out of our souls, we crawled into bed together, like we did when we were children, and talked some more until one of us fell asleep from exhaustion. The last thing I remember hearing as I drifted off to sleep was my little sister’s laugh, as we giddily discussed her wedding day and made plans for our happily ever afters. My heart is still full just thinking about it.
The next morning, I woke her up by serenading her with “Going to the Chapel of Love” by the Shirelles. We both started our day in a great mood and then we grabbed a couple more Strawberry Streusel Fiber One® Bars to take with us on our errands, and even though it was pouring rain out, we were transported back to sitting beneath those twinkle lights and everything was perfect.

2015/10/06
Why Mexican Food and Sex Don’t Mix
Mexican food does not mix well with sex and it’s not for the reason that you might think. It has nothing to do with beans, though, I am sure that has it’s own set of consequences. Mexican Subway anyone. ( Just Google it. You know you want to.) This is something my mom should have warned me about when she gave me “the talk”. Well, maybe she did. Our sex talk went a little like this, ” It’s going to hurt A LOT!” Then my dad chimed in, “Don’t do it!” Maybe they were telling me their truth…
Mexican food and sex don’t mix!
Since having children, finding the time to have sex (whether Mexican food recipes are involved or not) has become a challenge. Making love has gone from being recreational to a full on covert ops sport. The days of spontaneous sex are long gone, unless you count the rogue moments of bathroom sex or Saturday morning, wake up early, quietly lock the door and do it quick and dirty. Oh yeah, that happens. Quick and dirty is the specialty in this house with an 8 and 10-year-old. Those broads know how to jimmy the door open.
But sometimes when you try to do it quick and dirty, well, to be quite frank, people get burned. I know this because I was recently on the receiving end of a bad combination of Mexican food and lovemaking. That’s right, a little healthy fooling around with my Big Guy ended with me in the shower pouring milk straight onto my vagina. See, I told you that it had nothing do with beans!
So, you’re thinking to yourself, what kind of kinky shit are Debi and the mister getting themselves into over there? Well, let’s just say that you should always wash your hands at least three times after handling spicy foods, especially peppers. I know because, well, I’m Mexican and have put jalapeno, habanero and all sorts of peppers, accidentally, into my eyeballs throughout my lifetime. It’s a damn miracle that I’m not blind. Apparently, my eyeballs are kinky and like it hot and rough. This is obviously a lesson lost on my 100% caucasian husband, otherwise, he might have known…and heeded my father’s warning of, “Don’t do it!”
The other night after a mouth-watering meal of homemade Mexican food, the Big Guy and I were feeling the heat and getting a little frisky between the sheets. It was all well and good until Mr. Vagina Whisperer over here decided to get a little up close and personal with my nether regions. Look, I am all about a good “massage” but, men, you MUST wash your hands if you’ve been handling hot spices or peppers, especially if you just deseeded 5 veiny jalapeños for your super secret, ultra spicy homemade salsa. Well, this goes for all men; in general, all men must wash hands before lovemaking. Think of it as one of those signs posted in Fast Food restaurant bathrooms, if it helps.
All I know is that one minute, I was enjoying the “massage” and the next, I was feeling the burn and immediately following that I was in the shower screaming for the Big Guy to bring me all the milk in the house. This girl was on fire, and not in the good Alicia Keys way. I was a very, unhappy burning crotch down under kind of girl on fire. Bad things were happening to my lady bits and I could do nothing but watch in horror as the flames engulfed me.
You know how when you eat a really spicy pepper your lips start tingling, then they start swelling and then you’re crying because the burn is like a thousand bee stings. Yes, I had that….right there in my vagina and vagina adjacent region.
Just to recap….
Mexican Food and Sex Don’t Mix!
Write it down. I’ll wait.
The moral of the story is this, there are a few things that I’ve learned over the years that certainly don’t mix with sex; spicy Mexican food fingers being at the top of that list (no you poured $8 a gallon organic milk on your vagina in the middle of the night to stop feeling the burn), toddlers within 5 miles of an unlocked bedroom (no you were naked wrestling with your husband when you to caught by a 2-year-old and played dead) and certain sleep aids for insomniacs. Here is my rule of thumb, Ambien is great for forgotten, wild sex weekends but Xanax before bed can leave your partner with the longest hand job in the history of the universe. Think puff, puff, give but instead…rub, rub, snore. I hear it’s embarrassing and you never live it down because truly the only thing funnier is a Norwegian Knob gobbler. Now, go Google that and have a nice day.
And remember, no sex after handling spicy foods until all parts that have come in contact with the heat have been properly cleansed and eradicated of any spicy residue. You’ll thank me later.
What’s your best sex advice?
2015/09/10
A Life that’s Good
What do you think constitutes a life that’s good? It’s been a really weird couple of weeks. I’m not sure that mentally, I’ve completely returned from vacation. It’s difficult to get back into a routine when you’ve just spent 2 weeks living on vacation time. But when something unexpected like illness is thrown your way, well, your world goes from hazy to upside down in zero seconds flat. You find yourself discombobulated and confused. You find yourself weary and worn. You find yourself changing perspective and reprioritizing. Then, you find your way.
Sunday morning started like every other Father’s day, I told the Big Guy to sleep in. Then I went downstairs and began making espresso and cooking breakfast, as our girls busied themselves making him the sweetest Father’s Day banner to date. Everything was right in my world. I was feeling blessed.
The day before was spend doing yard work and teaching the girls how to play basketball. Things were starting to fall back into a groove. Normalcy was settling in and the overwhelming exhaustion of reentry was dissipating. Then it happened. The other foot. I always get cocky when things are good and then life throws me a curveball to instill a little humility.
After breakfast, the Big Guy said he wasn’t feeling “well” and went to lie down. I went up after him to check in on him because this is very out of character for him. I found him laying in silence, fist clenched as he stoically winced. I knew something was wrong. In the 18 years that I have shared a life with this man, I’ve never seen him do this. He has a high tolerance for pain (unless you count the man cold) but this was something different. I knew he was in pain. It’s humbling to see a 6’5”, 250-pound man incapacitated. It scared me because what if it was something serious. What would I do without him?
I asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital, he brushed it off. I knew better. I called my in laws to come stay with our girls and,in silence, we headed for the hospital. Happy Father’s Day to the Big Guy. I hate the ride to the hospital. It’s always the time my head thinks all of the worst thoughts.
We spent all day there. It was a three Xanax kind of day because seeing him in real pain made me feel helpless and that turned the volume up on my anxiety to high but I couldn’t show it. I had to stay strong for him, like he’s done for me so many times. All I wanted to do was breakdown. Think trapped wild animal but instead of a wild animal it was my emotions being forced silent inside of my head.
Deep breath. Keep your shit together lady. Pray. Check in on kids. See if he needs anything. Can I do something? Question the nurses and doctors like it’s your job (because it is.) Mind keeps going to the worst place. Get the hell out of my mind. Shift in my seat. Hold back the tears. Deep breath. Keep shit together. Pray….Repeat!
Eventually, after a CT and several other tests in which he was poked and prodded, they released him home to me with 3 bottles of medication and a strict clear diet and orders to see a surgeon the next day. I was happy to be taking him home but still my mind would not quiet. All I kept thinking was he needed to follow up with a surgeon. My thoughts were spastic and my heart was cracking. Stay strong bitch. This is NOT about YOU!
We went to the surgeon and for now, it’s nothing a couple weeks of high-powered antibiotics and some pain meds won’t fix. We’re scheduled for a follow up but today the prognosis is good. My mind is still worried, even with the 99.9% reassurance from the funny little doctor with the sunny disposition and wonderful sense of humor. To him, my husband is just another patient but to me, the Big Guy is everything.
The bottom line is that life happens and sometimes it’s some really shitty stuff like losing a baby or a parent or watching helplessly as your child or your husband is hospitalized. All you can do is pray and advocate, advocate and pray like their life depends on it because sometimes it does. The rest of the time all that we can hope for is a life that is good.
Speaking of which, about half way through writing this post, A Life That’s Good by Lennon and Maisy came on and the words spoke to my heart. This song sums up exactly what I’ve been feeling these past couple of days. Here are the Lyrics:

Sitting here tonight, by the fire light
It reminds me I already have more than I should.
I don’t need fame, no one to know my name.
At the end of the day, Lord I pray
I have a life that’s good.
Two arms around me
Heaven to ground me
and a family that always calls me home.
Four wheels to get there.
Enough love to share and a
sweet, sweet, sweet song.
At the end of the day, Lord I pray
I have a life that’s good.
Sometimes I’m hard on me,
when dreams don’t come easy
I wanna look back and say I did all that I could.
At the end of the day, Lord I pray
I have a life that’s good.
Two arms around me
Heaven to ground me
and a family that always calls me home.
Four wheels to get there.
Enough love to share and a
sweet, sweet, sweet song.
At the end of the day, Lord I pray
I have a life that’s good.
At the end of the day, Lord I pray
I have a life that’s good.
In the end, who cares about money, status or what other people think about us? All that matters is that we lived on our own terms, a life of few regrets and filled with lots of love. Care about the people who matter and don’t waste your time on those who you don’t matter to. These past few days have reminded me that I really do have a life that’s good and that is more than enough. That is everything.
Tonight, I am thankful. I am thoughtful. The people that I love are safe and healthy and that’s more than enough.
What do you think qualifies a life that’s good?
2015/06/25
Why Our Marriage is Better when No One is Leaving
Maybe you can’t relate to my particular circumstances, maybe you can. Marriage is hard, especially when you love your spouse and worse, if you like him. You can imagine what shit mine has been since my husband is, quite literally, my best friend. This is why our marriage is better when no one is leaving. It’s hard enough being alone but being separated from the person you love the most because of distance is cruel.
For the past 5 years (almost 6), we have been “not normal.” Well, definitely not traditional. We went from a young family with a preschooler and barely a toddler living in a nice suburban college town to a family separated by time and distance via a commuter marriage. The Big Guy worked in one state; we lived in another and only saw him on weekends. In case you were wondering what that was or how it goes, it sucks by the way. It sucks BIG TIME!
To be honest, this was the time I started this blog. Maybe I should have named it “This is why Marriage Sucks” blog. But it didn’t suck. The situation did but I loved my husband, and more than that, I liked him…a lot. I still do most days.
Then, after 2 years of that utter hell and mess of commuter marriage and the loss and gain of 3 separate jobs, we finally got to live together with my in-laws for a year, that was the year that I had a miscarriage and turned 40. It pretty much blew.
Then we bought a house; a fixer-upper that we are still fixing up, but a place of our own. The Big Guy was still driving 2 hours each way to and from work. Do the math. He left for work at 5 a.m. He got home from work at 5:15 p.m. Our girls go to bed at 7:00. He went to bed at 9 p.m. The girls and I see him for about 1 hour and 45 minutes a day, Monday thru Friday. Oh yes, it did f*cking suck.
I haven’t complained for a long time. After all, what was the point? We had no control over that situation. It was a down economy and being middle class, we had no handouts or hands up to be given. We had to figure it out and we did. I’ve just been grateful for the little wins but I will be honest with you now, it was hard.
He missed most of our children’s childhood up until this point. That was rough on all of us, most of all him. He went from the all-in father who did everything with his girls to being essentially a part-time dad, against his will which made me, ahem, an almost single mother. It was lonely and overwhelming.
Don’t get your panties in a twist. Yes, I had him on weekends but weekends are not enough when you are expecting forever. Try it, and then you will see how terrible it really is. They lie when they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all because when you’ve loved, you know what you’re missing and it goes the same for marriage.
Today, for the first time in 5 years (most of our children’s lives) we live together, sleep together, in the same house, in the same state, 7 nights a week. This morning the Big Guy started a new job in our town, 20 minutes away. This morning our family finally became normal again.
This morning he kissed me goodbye. This morning our girls got to say, “Good Morning, Daddy” and wrap their little arms around his big neck. This morning I didn’t have to worry about my husband driving 2 hours on icy roads each way, holding my breath until he was home. This morning, for the first time in a long time, I felt like things were going to work themselves out…finally.
Tonight, he will be home in time for dinner and not be exhausted from getting up at 4:30 a.m. After the girls go to bed, we will be able to snuggle on the couch and watch television and talk to one another, instead of just a short catch up on what happened with the kids before he went to bed in another room as I stayed up until the wee hours of the night doing work.
Today, we are “normal” again.
2015/01/26
The Last Bite; A Love Story
I don’t talk about the Big Guy very much on here because, well, this isn’t the truth about my marriage blog. But sometimes, he does something and I think I really need to write about this…to remember it, to appreciate my marriage.
You know when you’ve been married to someone for 15 years, no matter if he is the greatest thing since sliced bread, it’s easy to take it for granted because they’re just always there and I think that’s when problems start to creep in. Nobody wants to be taken for granted.
The thing is no one wants to be the squeaky wheel in a marriage either, so many times, we suffer in silence. Well, not exactly suffer as much as stew. We let the small things irritate us and we don’t say anything because, really is the fact that he clips his toenails at the coffee table that big of a deal?
No, maybe it’s not but it is gross and if I just let it keep happening and never said, “Hey DUDE! That’s gross, can you do that in the bathroom and discard of the clippings into a wastebasket because accidentally stepping on one is about as dangerous and painful as stepping on a damn Lego in the middle of the night and it’s twice as annoying because a grown up did it!”
Sure, it may sound petty and even stupid to some but what’s the alternative? You stew. You hold onto it and you make this imaginary list of things your partner does that make you roll your eyes and one day the toenail clippings are the reason you are citing for a divorce. Toenail CLIPPINGS! What the hell? I don’t want to write toenail clippings, drops socks just outside of hamper or even never changes the toilet paper tube on divorce papers. Do you?
Then again, sometimes he does something so miniscule to him but so huge and sweet to me that you think he is more wonderful than wonderful because of a bite of a hamburger. Yep, that’s right. Toe nail clippings = irreconcilable differences. Last Bite of burger=Best.Husband.Ever.
So, the Big Guy has done this once before and that time I thought it was amazing too. I get hangry. There is no denying it. I am downright evil when I am hungry. Yet, most nights of the week, I cook dinner, serve dinner and drinks and then when everyone else is settled, I sit down to eat. I usually forget 12 things and have to jump up and run back into the kitchen.
Friday night is Family Night and so we decided on burgers for dinner last week. I have been trying to eat healthier and workout but Friday is eat what you want “within reason” night. I ordered a single cheeseburger and French fries. I gave half of my fries to the Big Guy because he eats more than me and I just couldn’t eat them all without all consuming guilt. You know what I’m talking about.
Anyways, I got to the end of my sandwich and said, “Damn, I should have gotten the double.”
I didn’t get the double because I can never finish it and it kind of makes me sick but on that particular night, we were all starving. The Big Guy had gotten home late and instead of eating at 5 p.m. as usual, we were eating at 7:30. I was so hungry that I could have eaten one of my children.
Just as I took that very last bite or my burger, my husband reached over and gave me the last bite of his burger and I fell in love all over again. I took half and gave him back half. Then my insides all turned to jelly. JELLY! Not from a burger but from the selfless act. He was starving too.
If you’ve been married or with someone for any amount of time you know why this was so huge. It was not about a burger. It was about putting my needs first. It was unconditional love in its purest form. It told me that he’ll always take care of me and that he loves me so much that he would sacrifice his own wants to fulfill my needs. It was a small bite of a burger but the gesture said more than words ever could.
You know, the funny thing is that the Big Guy is a really good guy all the time, mostly. He’s never really been the selfish asshole type and he’s always been good to me. He surprises me with the things I want. He encourages me to go after my dreams. He supports me in my career. He truly believes in me. He cooks, cleans and helps with the girls. In fact, if we ever were to divorce, my parents would blame me without even asking.
He told me when he proposed (after four months of dating) that I was his soul mate. I thought maybe he was crazy. Apparently, he meant it. Him and his last bite of the burger antics have me wanting to be a better woman; a better wife to him because damn it he deserves it.
So do the little things. Receive the little things because damn it the little things add up and they mean more than you probably realize. I love my husband more today than yesterday and today it is because of the last bite of a burger.
2015/01/19
The Freedom to be Spontaneous with the Gift that Keeps On Giving Every Time the
I am a member of collective bias and this shop has been compensated by #CollectiveBias, Inc. and it’s advertiser. All thoughts and opinions are mine alone.
Warning: This is a PG-13 post in which I discuss marital relations between consulting adults but if you are easily offended by discussing adult themed topics, you are welcome to stop reading.
What do you get for that special man in your life who has everything this Christmas? There is one thing that I know the Big Guy (and every guy for that matter) always likes…you know what I’m talking about, the freedom to be spontaneous like before you became parents. A little unprovoked, unsolicited, uninterrupted (ahem) personal “attention” and he can’t buy that (well, he can but he really shouldn’t.) Since I don’t own a time machine, nor are my beloved kids refundable, I’m asking Grandma to keep the kids overnight, adding a little personal lubricant ( come on ladies, you all know what I mean, sometimes we need a little jumpstart) and letting the good times roll. Merry Christmas, baby!
The Big Guy and I have been married forever for 15 years. When we first got married, romance was easy. We were in our 20’s so attraction and having relations didn’t take any effort at all. We were breathing and we were always ready. It didn’t hurt that we were both pretty hot. We were spontaneous because we had the leisure of time, privacy and youth. There was no stress, laundry or tiny people crawling on us and promptly spitting up on one or both of us. FYI, spit up.is.not.attractive.Not even on Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp. These days, we are simply spontaneous challenged.
We’re 40ish. We have kids who are just old enough to be nosier than they should be. I have insomnia. He gets up for work at 4:30 a.m. and every night is a game of musical beds, thanks to recovering co-sleepers who still think they lay claim to our bed. Sometimes we’re just too damn tired. Yes, it happens!
Don’t feel sorry for us yet. Thanks to a couple afternoons of working from home, we manage some “us” time but I miss making out on the couch (with no one under 5 foot asking, “What cha doin?”), and being able to be spontaneously whisked off to bed/floor/kitchen countertops or finish what we started because kids arguing over Barbie dolls in the next room causes everything south to go dry like the Sahara. Honestly, why does no one tell you that children are female erection killers?
Speaking of which, last week, for 48 hours straight, on 3 occasions, the Big Guy and I were trying to “have relations” when the 7-year-old burst into the room or beat at the door. It’s like she’s my mom and she has radar whenever I might be trying to do the deed. I’m a teenager all over again, except this time I’ve got a mortgage and gray hair and I’m trying not to get busted by a person who sometimes still needs me to cut up her food. Thank God for bathrooms with locks.
So forget waiting for the perfect time, I’m sick of trying to fit “couple time” in between the minute they go to sleep and the surprise hour that they have to pee/get water/ or remember they had homework. Mama needs some adult time with the Big Guy.
This Saturday, I’m giving us an early Christmas present, a child-free night where we can just be Debi and the Big Guy (not mommy and daddy) and maybe channel those two college students who met 17 years ago. I’ve enlisted grandma to keep the girls overnight, made a trip to Target and bought some K-Y® LIQUIBEADS® (to make sure everything down below is ready to go at a moments notice), made reservations for dinner at a place that doesn’t serve chicken nuggets and can’t wait to see where the night leads.
I’ve heard good things about the K-Y® LIQUIBEADS® and they seem easy to use.
- Simply place the OVULE insert firmly into the top of the applicator so it will not fall out.
- Hold the applicator containing the OVULE insert by the opposite end from where the OVULE insert is located.
- Gently insert the applicator into the vagina as far as it will go comfortably.This can be done while standing with your feet comfortably apart and knees bent.
- Push the plunger all the way in to place th OVULE insert as far back in the vagina as possible.
- Throw away applicator after use.
- Insert a bead once every few days so that your body is ready whenever the mood may strike.
I know sometimes when you are pregnant, you really want to be “spontaneous” often, especially with all those “romantic” dreams but if you’re pregnant or nursing, consult a doctor before using.

Coupon available coupon available at coupons.com $1 off any K-Y® product –
2014/12/18
Sleeping Apart ~ The One Marriage, Two Bedroom Conundrum
Do you and your spouse sleep in the same bed every night or do you enjoy sleeping apart? We don’t. In fact, most nights we don’t. Is getting sleep that important? Hell yeah, says the insomniac who works late nights and has two young children. Sleep is the best thing ever, except for Ambien sex. Ambien sex trumps everything. Especially Ambien sex with your husband. But I digress…
The Big Guy gets up for work every day at 4:30 a.m. I am a night owl, a constant insomniac if we are being truthful, so bedtime for me is normally between midnight and 2 a.m. Add to that the fact that I snore during allergy season and our littlest one always seems to end up in our bed and we’ve just conceded to the fact that Monday thru Thursday night, the Big Guy sleeps in the guest room.
At first, I kind of loved it. I’m sure he did too. I had a king size tv bed from TV Bed Store all to myself. I could stay up as late as I wanted, watching television and working. It was awesome. Then, when it was all said and done, I could sprawl out (until my little one found her way to my room) all across the bed. It was awesome. Well, for a little while anyways.
Have we become complacent? Some times, I feel like we are some old married couple like Ethel and Fred Mertz. You know the cantankerous old couple from the building that slept in separate beds and could barely stand one another? But hey, Lucy and Ricky slept in separate beds too and they were madly in love. So what does sleeping in separate beds really mean? We love one another but we’re so comfortable sleeping in our own beds and actually SLEEPING that we just do. Problem is… I miss my husband. I do. I miss turning over in the middle of the night, reaching out and just knowing he is there.

Do you think sleeping apart is indicative of depleting intimacy?
Sure, we’re still intimate (maybe not as often as we might be if we actually slept in the same bed but maybe more so) and our marriage is still rock solid BUT are we on borrowed time? I mean is it all going to go south one day? Are we growing apart and don’t even realize it? Is sleeping in separate beds leaving just enough room between us for someone else to insert themselves? These are all valid concerns, right? Is a good night’s sleep really worth risking your marriage?
Am I fooling myself by thinking that our marriage is strong enough to survive long distance intimacy? We survived 2 years of commuter marriage and that is probably where this all started but am I insane to think that a couple can sleep in separate beds but still be connected intimately?
I think just because you sleep in separate beds doesn’t necessarily mean that you’ve lost that “loving feeling” at all. The Big Guy works from home 2 days a week and those are our “afternoon delight days” and we do sleep in our bed together on weekends, so I’d say our sex life is pretty healthy. In fact, him being in the other room adds a little sauce to the mix. It keeps me on my toes to receive random snapchat pics and sexts from across the hall. Believe me, I will gladly turn off any television show for a romp with the Big Guy any day of the week.
The only thing that suffers is that some times, I just want to be able to reach over and cuddle ( I sound like such a girl right now) not often because I am not really a cuddler during night time hours. I prefer to cuddle on the couch while watching a movie. I enjoy the spontaneity and flirtation that not knowing if we will be sleeping in the same bed has afforded us. It’s taken the restrictions off of sex. Sex is no longer confined to our bedroom and intimacy is not just sex. It’s talking, texting, emailing. It’s a brush of his hand on mine. It’s like dating after 15 years of marriage. So, maybe this sleeping apart is good for a marriage….or maybe we’re considering buying a queen sized bed to replace our king sized one?
I’m not sure what we will do but I do know that when I want him in my bed, all I need to do is tell him and vice versa.
For topics like this and many more on parenting, relationships and just about anything else under the sun facing today’s parents, check out Mad Life at CafeMom.
What do you think of sleeping apart from your partner?
2014/10/28
Things that Turn Men Off that Women Think Are Turning Him On
You ever wonder if their are things that turn men off that we might think are sexy? You’ve heard the old saying that men are from Mars and women are from Venus, right? We obviously speak a different language and process things differently. Does it have anything to do with having an innie or an outtie? I don’t know but I do know that what we think is sexy and what our man thinks is sexy may be two totally different things.
I’ve never thought about what turns men off. I guess, as women, we are lucky that way. Men usually pursue us so we don’t have to work as hard for it. But maybe we should. Maybe we should care enough to actually try to figure out what our men like or don’t like in bed. I think before I got married and had babies, I really tried. I wore all the skimpy lingerie like the ones from Cris’ Lingeries store, tried all the new things and was always up for anything.
Then I had children and well, keeping little people alive and being covered in bodily fluids has a weird way of making women feel super unsexy. Gradually, I just sort of stopped trying as hard. I won’t lie. I am exhausted 99% of the time.
For instance, I know we’ve all been guilty of wearing something super comfy but totally unsexy to bed. I once had these pajama shorts that were SOOOOOO comfortable but not very sexy. Not even cute. One day my husband outright asked me, “Honey, can you PLEASE just throw them away?”
After I was done crying, I threw them away. I guess I could have kept them and used them as erection kryptonite but instead I threw them away because I don’t want to purposely turn my husband off. I want to be the woman who still turns him on. I need to put some effort into proactively making him feel wanted. I don’t think any of us want to make our partner feel unwanted, right?
Aside from my erection killing sleep shorts, here are a few other things that might be putting a damper on your sex life. No fear, we can fix them. And if your man is experiencing erectile dysfunction, you may support him by going to the ED Clinic with him.
Coyness
Sure, a shy woman is a challenge and most men like a a demure flower so they can feel like they earned it but men also like to feel like the woman they are with actually enjoys sex and wants to be there. Own your sexuality. No more quietly lying there like dead weight or trying to hide beneath the cloak of darkness. That’s not doing either of you any favors. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want. He wants you. He’s naked in your bed. You are the prize. Now, start acting like it. Throw those shoulders back, push that ass out and work what your mama gave you. He will love it. You don’t have to be perfect, you just have to be happy with who you are.
Teeth touching his manhood
Repeat after me, raking is bad! Hate to break it to you but teeth on sensitive private parts equals turn off, even if you are gentle. I know sometimes biting is fun and sexy. Biting his lip, his neck, his chest or even is ass are definite turn ons but when you get to his member, be gentle. You wouldn’t want him to find your clitoris only to bite it, would you?
Grabbing too hard
Sure men like to have their testicles touched, cupped and kissed. You can gently suck and even lick but testicles are not detachable. Never yank on them. It hurts. Just think of what it feels like when a guy twists your nipples. Hello! Tuning in Tokyo is so 1980. Word to the wise, be gentle unless otherwise specifically requested.
Inserting things without warning
Wow! This one could get us all hurt. Many men like their prostate massaged. It really is a turn on for most men but just like you don’t like surprise anal sex neither does your man. If he’s not expecting it, he might clench up and it could really hurt ( both of you). Never just randomly insert something into his anus whether it be a finger, a fist or a plug. There has to be a discussion, some lube, a warning and maybe a safe word. No matter how much you might dream about it, we are not all living in Christian Grey’s world. There are somethings that you just can’t spring on a partner during the act.
Licking it like it’s a lollipop
There is no denying that men love blow jobs. But licking anything like a lollipop can cause serious catastrophic chapping to the manhood. A chapped penis will not be a useful one. It may put your guy out of sexual commission for a week and ladies, they do not sell Carmex for your penis.
Continuing past the sensitivity
OK, I think we might all be guilty of this. If your man has already maxed out in pleasure and you continue to “pleasure”him after he tells you to stop, it’s actually painful. I know we think it’s more of a good thing but it’s actually too much of a good thing. Unless you want to get smacked across the head, I suggest you that you slowly back away from his manhood and no one will get hurt.
Talking too nasty
Men like women who talk dirty but not too nasty. For instance, “oh baby, I’ve been a bad girl.Spank me” = good. “Oh baby,pull my tampon out with your teeth!” = bad. Your nasty mouth may turn him completely off, luckily if you know what you’re doing with your mouth you can turn that frown upside down in 5 seconds flat.
Not trying new things
Sure there might be a couple things that you are really good at and hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it but sex is supposed to be a fun adventure for two, or three if that’s what you’re into, but if you do the same thing, in the same place over and over again, it gets boring for him and for you. I’m sure your man appreciates your professional grade strip teases or your perfected BJs but sometimes throw in an afternoon delight reverse cowboy and blow his mind. Spice it up. You have to try everything at least twice and then you can decide whether or not you like it and that applies to all areas of life. If your partner suggests some new positions, or role playing or just a new twist on an old favorite, try it you might like it.
Ladies, don’t feel bad, I have a list for the men too. I will publish that next week because there are things that they think are sexy and are totally turning us off too. But today, ladies, what’s your best, no -fail tip of how to turn your man on?
Men, what things that turn men off do we women do because we think it’s sexy?
2014/09/30
Domestic Violence Doesn’t Discriminate
Domestic violence doesn’t care who you are or used to be. It doesn’t care if you are popular or appear to have the perfect life.
In fact, you probably know someone whose been a victim of domestic violence or abuse. I have been compensated to be a part of the #PurplePurse campaign in collaboration with Allstate Foundation® and Latina Bloggers Connect but all thoughts, opinions and stories are my own.
Ray Rice was not released from the Ravens when the Baltimore Ravens saw the video of him abusing his then fiancé, Janay Palmer, he was released from his contract when WE saw the video of Ray Rice knocking, his now wife, Janay Palmer unconscious in an elevator. This is the abuse culture. No one sees anything until it affects them. No one condones it but no one wants to be in the middle of a domestic dispute either. I don’t know what made Janay Palmer stay with Ray Rice after he knocked her out cold but I’m also not in the middle of an abusive relationship and it’s pretty easy to pass judgment safely from atop my pedestal. It’s not so easy to leave when you are the victim of domestic violence without legal help from familycourtlawyers.
When I was a child, I saw my own mother live through domestic violence. I saw what it did to her. It made her feel small and weak. She was told so many times that she was worthless and knocked back so many times when she tried to stand up for herself, for all of us, that eventually she was broken and tired.
Many nights, I spent lying in bed holding my little brother while we heard the noises from the other room. Doors opening. Doors shutting. Stumbling. Shouting. Screaming. Begging. Crying. Whimpering. Finally, stifling fear. She was tiny, meek and worn down from the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. She did nothing wrong.
She never allowed herself to fully cry, scream or shout. She had to push it all down and swallow it; hating every single moment of it. Losing herself. Losing any sense of respect, confidence or dignity she had. Knowing that her children heard and saw. Wondering if they felt differently about her.
I remember lying in my bed feeling helpless and then so angry. I wanted to keep my mother safe, but I couldn’t because I was just a small child. She would have never allowed it. She shielded us for as long as she could.
The summer I turned 10, I couldn’t stand idly by anymore. I wrote a letter to my uncle and begged him to come and get us. They arrived and I felt that I had found our Salvation. Finally, we could escape his tyranny of fear. Only, she refused to leave. Her reasoning was that she had no place to go with 5 children. She had no job, no money and nothing of her own. She knew he would come and then it would be worse so she sent her brothers home. I was crushed.
I didn’t understand. I felt that she had failed me. I felt that she was weak but I now know that she was strong. Stronger than I could ever be because staying with him was a sacrifice she made for her children. I would have rather have starved than stayed there. But it was not my choice. I was just a child. It doesn’t have to be that way, you can get full custody of your child if you have an accomplished child custody attorney or get proper help from the right law firm, you can view more here for their legal services.
Domestic violence affects 1 in 4 women in her lifetime; that’s more women than breast cancer, ovarian cancer and lung cancer combined, check this link right here now if you or your loved is in this unfortunate situation. It was easy for me to tell my mom to leave. I thought like a child. I had no responsibilities. I knew nothing of the world, finances and children. I couldn’t comprehend how trapped a woman can be by finances. My mother was a stay-at-home mom, she quit working to be home with us. My father controlled all the finances. She was given money for food and to pay the bills and that was it. She didn’t have access to the checkbook. She had nothing of her own. She was completely financially dependent on him. She was held captive to her situation because she didn’t have the means to leave with five children and refused to leave us behind. My mom is my hero and one of the strongest women I know.
Since 2005, The Allstate Foundation has invested more than $40 million across the country to help domestic violence survivors regain control of their finances and break free from abuse. The Allstate Foundation is investing more than half a million dollars in the Purple Purse Challenge. The more donations each nonprofit gets, the more it can compete for Allstate Foundation incentive funding. Go to PurplePurse.com between Sept. 2 and Oct. 3 to join the Challenge and help a nonprofit near you.
PurplePurse.com has important tips and tools to help you recognize domestic violence and financial abuse, talk about it and end it. So next time you wonder, why does she stay with him? Why doesn’t she leave him? Consider that maybe she is in a financial prison and can’t, no matter how desperate she is to do so. You can also contact this las vegas domestic violence attorney to help you out.
If you or someone you know needs immediate help, call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or TTY 1-800-787-3224.
2014/09/16