Misstropolis

Friday, June 06, 2008

Sex and the Single Mom

by Carly DeValle

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Ah, the joys of motherhood. Or rather, the joys of sex… Lately, I cannot tell the difference, I’ve found they actually can co-exist quite harmoniously much to most of my friends’ surprise. But then again, I have never been one who was ever not in the mood. Though married to a happily asexual man for over ten years, I was never the one to sheepishly mutter under my breath, “not in the mood tonight, darling,” as he so poetically did each and every time I asked.

So what is a newly single woman to do after fourteen years with aforementioned creature and two little ones under the age of nine?  I’ll tell you what she won’t do - settle… in bed, that is. Her single, never married friends will call her sluttish, her unhappily married friends will call her lucky and spoiled and her happily married friends (wait; does she even have any of those?) well, they’ll probably call her their hero.

And what will the single, never married, childless men, who fall victim to her charms, her Sexual Reawakening, think about it? Two comments overheard recently shed light on the matter:

#1. Comment number one occurred during an untimely phone conversation with an out-of-town fellow whom I know - in the biblical sense. As I was negotiating a tense Lego altercation between my four year old and his two-and-a-half year old nemesis, B.D.’s (this is what we’ll call him for now; more on his name later) name popped up on my phone. Normally I wouldn’t answer such a call, but as I am assisting B.D. in housing options for his relocation to my neighborhood (nothing to do with me, trust me, his best friend lives nearby), I felt compelled to answer. Midway through the call, things were heating up with the Legos, and I excused myself and gently masterminded a truce between the preschoolers. B.D. said, “Wow. You handled that so beautifully. I love the way you talked to them.” I laughed, as most mothers know, we don’t have enough fingers to count on for the dozens of fires we put out on a daily basis. He continued, “You are such a good mother.”

OUCH! There it is. And, coming from a man who had a vasectomy at twenty years old!

#2. Comment number two occurred during a discussion with JRS (for his sake, a pure acronym) about whose house was better to spend a deliciously carnal, insatiable evening at - JRS’s or mine. Always the gentleman, JRS decided he would drive the 5 miles to my home. And then blurted out, “but your house is covered with kid things; there are things everywhere!”

OUCH! There it is again. I even refrained from stating the obvious: that’s because two kids do live here!

Ironically enough, both B.D. and JRS share other commonalities besides the pleasures of my body: they don’t want children sprung from their own seeds and neither have a mom around. So, are they merely admirers of my innate maternal drive, just sampling my offerings, or is there something deeper they are reaching for and even they don’t know it? Like an archaeologist on a prescribed dig who comes across the unexpected – the oyster – lying there in the dirt and doesn’t quite know what to do with it but knows it must be coveted, cared for before its rightful place is found.

For the most part, B.D. and JRS have afforded me an exquisite escape from motherhood. I truly do not think about my children when in their presence. The decades seem to drop away, inch by inch my body morphs into a pubescent version of my womanly frame, my nearly flat stomach feels more taut, my arms and thighs naturally toned from years of child-towing, my energy brimming and alive as it must maintain a child’s frenetic pace. This is my new glow, my freedom glow, and I intend to let it shine for a long time.