Boy, is sex different post-baby! When we manage to slip it in, that is. Baby has left us with little time for elaborately costumed role plays, and without my powdered wig, velvet smoking jacket, and aubergine-stuffed breeches I somehow feel less of a man. Nor can I afford to be tied down and gagged, and my typically operatic vocalizations have been muted. Sure, the bedroom is still a minefield of toys, but they’re no longer ours. Where has all the fun gone??
Timing has become problematic in other ways as well. The other day Felix woke up from his nap at a pretty inopportune moment. Hearing him shifted the whole mood, as our parental selves took the reigns. Our brows furrowed and we exchanged “oh shit, what do we do?” looks. The proceedings nearly ground to a halt before we wordlessly decided that he could cry for a bit as we wrapped things up. These days it’s catch as catch can.
I tell you, no part of our lives has been untouched by the little guy.