What Kind of Back Rub Is This, Anyway?

A recent dinner with friends found the dads outside on the back porch while the moms were inside doing tequila shots. I'm not kidding. Hey, we were eating chips and salsa, and the dads had the kids. It seemed appropriate. Besides, my friend had brought this tequila all the way from Mexico for us to try. Wouldn't want to be rude. After all, this is the South.

So there we are, drinking, laughing, and talking about sex. (What else would four moms talk about while shooting tequila and licking salt off our hands?) The conversation turned to frequency. Now, I am by several years the more, shall I say, experienced member of the group - meaning they are all in their early 30s and I am not. So I was surprised to hear that, while their husbands wanted sex night after night, these women at their so-called sexual peaks thought once or twice a week was sufficient. When they turned to me, I think I surprised them back: my husband and I have a rule. When either one of us wants it, we do it. Yep, that's right. If he asks, I give it to him. If I ask, he reciprocates. No questions asked, no excuses.

After they got over their initial shock, I learned this: everyone has rules about sex. One busy mom friend tells her husband to approach her before 10 PM. Another asks her husband, "Is this back rub supposed to lead to sex, or are you helping me relax?" A third tells her husband, "Take a shower and brush your teeth before you even ask!" Romantic? Spontaneous? Not really. But motherhood isn't romantic, and sometimes we need a little time to transition from Mommy to Honey. Sometimes we can't switch off the mommy mode that quickly. We used to go from zero to 60 in mere seconds. Now we might need a few minutes, but we'll get there.

Another thing that came up was HOW our husbands initiate sex. Like, if it's nearing midnight and I'm still folding laundry, don't pounce on me when I lean over to pick up a stray sock. Not sexy. Or, if I'm at the sink washing dishes, don't come in from mowing the grass and start kissing me IN THAT WAY. And, my personal favorite, while I'm in the shower washing the spaghetti sauce-induced vomit out of my hair, DO NOT join me thinking it will lead anywhere. It won't. There's a puking kid in our bed who could give Linda Blair a run for her money, for crying out loud!

So the four of us started thinking: we know what they want. That hasn't changed since Johnny tried to get to second base at the junior high dance. Do we tell our husbands what WE want? Do we tell them what gets us in the mood? For me, there's nothing hotter than watching my husband do the dishes, make the school lunches, AND fold a load of towels before hopping in the sack. Anything that gets my chores done sooner is likely to put me in bed sooner. And if I'm not so exhausted that I pass out the second my head hits the pillow, then...well, you get the idea.

Slacker Mom Says...go for it, ladies! Tell your man what you want and how HE can get what HE wants. Hand him the vacuum and tell him to get busy if he wants to (wink wink) get busy later. Tell him you'll be waiting in the bedroom as soon as he puts the baby to bed. And if he initiates, go for it. As my best friend says, "Hey, if he still finds me hot 18 years and 3 kids later, I'm not complaining!" Besides, it's all good once you're there. We'll ALWAYS be tired and busy. We're moms! But having sex with my husband isn't yet another chore; it's an expression of our love and committment to each other. And it feels good, dammit! So leave the dishes in the sink, lock the bedroom door, and, as Nike says, Just Do It!