Rule 1: Oatmeal raison cookies from Tiff's Treats are a legitimate substitute for the planned evening meal.
Rule 2: Dogs are no longer allowed to pull the insole out of my sneakers and bite holes in them.
Rule 3: In all future residences, the television where the teenaged offspring tend to congregate on Friday and Saturday evenings will not be located right outside of our bedroom door.
Rule 4: No one will talk about Rule 4. Ever.
Rule 5: When inviting relatives for the weekend, make sure they understand this does not mean "show up on Tuesday."
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
The One Where I Talk About My Sex Life
Back when I was still with Brett, I used to be pretty unhappy about my sex life. Year after year, the frequency would decline, and while sometimes it could be very good, sometimes it could be not good, sometimes even to the point of being downright bad. The six months or so that she would break out in hives at the end was particularly memorable, but often things were more mundane. "You've been really sweet and kind and attentive and helpful today, but I'd just rather stay up and watch this thirty-year-old sitcom than go to bed with you." "OMFG. You guys were like roommates. I think I would kill myself," was Hydra's response when I told her what it had been like. Looking back, I can see that a lot of what I thought was love and affection was really just her hormones kicking into overdrive for a few days. When that had happened to her in college, she'd go on a tear and sleep with a different guy every night. But then I came along, and I was safe and reliable and dependable, so we would be romantic and passionate until her itch was done being scratched. I would take it as a sign she really did love me, and cling to it through the following dry spell. But when the dry spells grew to be multiple months long, even I caught a clue.
Then, Julie entered my life. She not only enjoyed sex as much as I did, she really did love me. (And, yeah, it was a brand new, exciting relationship. That never hurts.) We made love whenever could, in person during our too-infrequent visits together, over the phone or on-line when we had to be apart. For eight months, it was wonderful.
Then came the cancer diagnosis.
We tried to keep the passion going, we both did. But when you don't know if you're going to live or die, when you're being cut into and poisoned and irradiated, when you throw up after every meal and your hair falls out and your breasts are removed, it's pretty damn hard to feel sexy. And I was far too scared I'd lose her, and concerned about her health, and focused on trying everything I could to make life easier for her to be much of a horndog either. But, there was always affection, always a desire to be close to each other as much and as often as possible. I never, ever felt alone the way I did with Brett.
So now, four months after the treatments ended, where are we? In a lot of ways, Julie is recovered from the ordeal. Much of her physical strength is back, and she (and I) aren't fighting a constant battle with fear anymore. (The fear is still there, for me at least, but it's down to a quiet background hum.) Unfortunately, though, her interest in sex hasn't come back. As she said to me the other night,
"I miss wanting sex. I know that sounds weird, but it's like my sex drive took off. I want it back."
It's not that she objects to sex, it's just not something on her radar anymore. Combined with the facts that she works 3-4 nights a week so we often only see each other for a few minutes in the morning and the evening, and we now have her son (and on weekends, my daughter) living with us so there's a lot less privacy, it just doesn't happen all that often. Like, about the same frequency I had with Brett. She's apologized to me, a couple of times, about the irony of it all, that I'm still not getting any. But it's not the same.
For one thing, there's still a lot of physical affection. Cuddling, backrubs, and tickling - I never was particularly ticklish as an adult, but Julie can get me to shriek hysterically. For another, there's still some pain, as her body struggles to adapt to having several lymph nodes removed. This will get better with time. I know she's having to deal with body image issues. I still find her sexy as hell, but it's hard for her, after years of having big magnificent knockers, to accept a pair of small, uneven lumps of fat and scar tissue. This will get easier with time, particularly next year when things have healed enough to get cosmetic surgery. And someday, in a few years, the kids will go off to college - Whoo hoo!
So, yeah, the era of frequent, easy sex is gone. And I miss it, sometimes. But I am loved, and I get to give and receive affection, and I know it'll get easier with time, instead of the slow steady decline I had before. So, I'm okay with it. Gods know, there's a lot worse things that could happen.
I used to write her erotic stories, back in the pre-cancer days. Sometimes featuring us, sometimes our warcraft characters. They could get her (and me) very excited, and add some very enjoyable spice. But I stopped doing that when things got grim a year ago. This week, I started writing a new one. I'll show it to her this weekend, when we both have some time, and we shall see what happens.
Then, Julie entered my life. She not only enjoyed sex as much as I did, she really did love me. (And, yeah, it was a brand new, exciting relationship. That never hurts.) We made love whenever could, in person during our too-infrequent visits together, over the phone or on-line when we had to be apart. For eight months, it was wonderful.
Then came the cancer diagnosis.
We tried to keep the passion going, we both did. But when you don't know if you're going to live or die, when you're being cut into and poisoned and irradiated, when you throw up after every meal and your hair falls out and your breasts are removed, it's pretty damn hard to feel sexy. And I was far too scared I'd lose her, and concerned about her health, and focused on trying everything I could to make life easier for her to be much of a horndog either. But, there was always affection, always a desire to be close to each other as much and as often as possible. I never, ever felt alone the way I did with Brett.
So now, four months after the treatments ended, where are we? In a lot of ways, Julie is recovered from the ordeal. Much of her physical strength is back, and she (and I) aren't fighting a constant battle with fear anymore. (The fear is still there, for me at least, but it's down to a quiet background hum.) Unfortunately, though, her interest in sex hasn't come back. As she said to me the other night,
"I miss wanting sex. I know that sounds weird, but it's like my sex drive took off. I want it back."
It's not that she objects to sex, it's just not something on her radar anymore. Combined with the facts that she works 3-4 nights a week so we often only see each other for a few minutes in the morning and the evening, and we now have her son (and on weekends, my daughter) living with us so there's a lot less privacy, it just doesn't happen all that often. Like, about the same frequency I had with Brett. She's apologized to me, a couple of times, about the irony of it all, that I'm still not getting any. But it's not the same.
For one thing, there's still a lot of physical affection. Cuddling, backrubs, and tickling - I never was particularly ticklish as an adult, but Julie can get me to shriek hysterically. For another, there's still some pain, as her body struggles to adapt to having several lymph nodes removed. This will get better with time. I know she's having to deal with body image issues. I still find her sexy as hell, but it's hard for her, after years of having big magnificent knockers, to accept a pair of small, uneven lumps of fat and scar tissue. This will get easier with time, particularly next year when things have healed enough to get cosmetic surgery. And someday, in a few years, the kids will go off to college - Whoo hoo!
So, yeah, the era of frequent, easy sex is gone. And I miss it, sometimes. But I am loved, and I get to give and receive affection, and I know it'll get easier with time, instead of the slow steady decline I had before. So, I'm okay with it. Gods know, there's a lot worse things that could happen.
I used to write her erotic stories, back in the pre-cancer days. Sometimes featuring us, sometimes our warcraft characters. They could get her (and me) very excited, and add some very enjoyable spice. But I stopped doing that when things got grim a year ago. This week, I started writing a new one. I'll show it to her this weekend, when we both have some time, and we shall see what happens.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Things I Have Learned Watching Television
Towing an expensive car and needing to go to the bathroom really really bad is a dangerous combination.
You should not wear $1600 shoes if you are going to be marooned on a tropical island.
It is hard to keep a secret from your wife if you have a camera crew following you around.
If your "learning disability" is causing you to flunk out of law school and you are petitioning for "special consideration", that may be a sign that you aren't cut out to be a lawyer.
Bringing your mistress to a first date does not go over well.
You should not wear $1600 shoes if you are going to be marooned on a tropical island.
It is hard to keep a secret from your wife if you have a camera crew following you around.
If your "learning disability" is causing you to flunk out of law school and you are petitioning for "special consideration", that may be a sign that you aren't cut out to be a lawyer.
Bringing your mistress to a first date does not go over well.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Any Day Now....
....gonna start exercising. Really. I mean it. Just need to find the right motivation.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Reunions
This weekend my friend Laura came to visit. It was a short stopover as she does a whirlwind cross-country trip, but for twenty-four hours we got to hang out and catch up. We'd been really good friends in college, and while we've kept in touch over the years (mostly), this was the first time we'd managed to be in the same place at the same time in about fifteen years.
(I'm the one with the really big head)
It was a super visit. Even though we are both a lot older than we were when we were seventeen, and have very different (and way more complex) lives than we once did, we still got along great. We talked about what we've been up to, where we hope to be going, what we watch on tv, what we think of certain political hot-button topics, the works. I thought she was interesting even though she's kinda quirky, she thought I was interesting even though I'm kinda quirky, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it. The only regrets were that it had to end so soon.
Hopefully we won't have to wait another fifteen years to see each other again.
Meanwhile, my 25th anniversary high school reunion is later this month. When I went to the 20th, I found myself being pulled into a group that I had been somewhat associated with in school. Friends, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends, and the ex-wife and nearly adult children of one friend. When I broke off to go mingle with other people, I wasn't literally roped and pulled back in, but somehow I kept finding myself with the same group of people. Many of whom seemed to want to act as if it was still the 1980s. "Let's go eat at the same restaurant we always used to!" "Tomorrow let's go to that place we always hung out at." It wasn't interesting. It wasn't fun. To be honest, I found it all a little creepy. And some of those people I really couldn't stand at all.
This time around, Facebook is all a-flutter with "hey let's all get together at so-and-so's house, and then we do X and it'll be just like old times." I'm sorry, but I'm not a teenager any more, and I'm not interested in reliving those days. So, I think I'm going resist the siren's cry of nostalgia, and stay home with my family instead.
(I'm the one with the really big head)
It was a super visit. Even though we are both a lot older than we were when we were seventeen, and have very different (and way more complex) lives than we once did, we still got along great. We talked about what we've been up to, where we hope to be going, what we watch on tv, what we think of certain political hot-button topics, the works. I thought she was interesting even though she's kinda quirky, she thought I was interesting even though I'm kinda quirky, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it. The only regrets were that it had to end so soon.
Hopefully we won't have to wait another fifteen years to see each other again.
Meanwhile, my 25th anniversary high school reunion is later this month. When I went to the 20th, I found myself being pulled into a group that I had been somewhat associated with in school. Friends, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends, and the ex-wife and nearly adult children of one friend. When I broke off to go mingle with other people, I wasn't literally roped and pulled back in, but somehow I kept finding myself with the same group of people. Many of whom seemed to want to act as if it was still the 1980s. "Let's go eat at the same restaurant we always used to!" "Tomorrow let's go to that place we always hung out at." It wasn't interesting. It wasn't fun. To be honest, I found it all a little creepy. And some of those people I really couldn't stand at all.
This time around, Facebook is all a-flutter with "hey let's all get together at so-and-so's house, and then we do X and it'll be just like old times." I'm sorry, but I'm not a teenager any more, and I'm not interested in reliving those days. So, I think I'm going resist the siren's cry of nostalgia, and stay home with my family instead.
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