It’s day 4 of the flowing red river of hate & I’m feeling slightly more mentally stable. Fucking exhausted after having a tiny two year old toe in my rib all night but a tad more tolerant. The flowing red river of hate is drying up & I’ll probably drink a bottle of wine tonight to celebrate being foetus free for another month.
The Fathership would probably argue that you need to have sex to get pregnant, he cries sexual poverty often, but those 2-3 bangs a month (depending how generous the vajay & I are feeling) is all it takes to be back in the maternity clinic & contemplating running away. I believe the best contraception is very little D to V contact. After birthing 3 decent sized, large noggin’d babies I feel like the vajay has proven its worth. It’s happily gone into semi retirement & enjoys long stints of being left the fuck alone.
At this stage he is away for 14 days at a time & when he is here there is usually a threenager in between us. I use her as a safety barrier. A dick deflector. The Fathership knows it’s on when I tell him to carry her into her own bed, which is usually wine induced. She is always back within the hour so there’s no fucking around. Bang, bang & Bobs your uncle. I’m sure he takes it personally that I’m not the horn dog I used to be. Call me crazy but there’s something about stitches in your vagina that changes the way you think about things entering it. I also have 3 humans leaching on me every day to help them survive. When I finally get everyone to sleep I really don’t want to be harassed by a purple headed one eyed snake. I’m grateful for it, it gave me 2 gorgeous boys & then changed it up & gave me the girl I kept telling it that I wanted. It came through with the goods & I think it might have magic powers.
I respect it, I just don’t want it in me as much as it would like to be. But there’s no dick I’d rather touch once or twice a month than his, if that’s not love after 13 years & 3 kids then I don’t know what is!
He’s so good with the co-sleeping thing. Especially for a man who spends very little time in his own bed. His biggest issue is the fact that right or wrong I had to buy her the prettiest bed I could find, that was not cheap, & it’s getting no use. I’ve told him several times that I’m happy for him to use it, ha! This is my last baby. This is the last little person I can snuggle up with like a koala. The Fathership & I have a lifetime of bed time together. I don’t have that with my babies. I know it’s not for everyone, I didn’t do it this long with my boys but I have always found it hard when they go into their own rooms. When our firstborn went into his own room the Fathership slept on a mattress next to his cot for 4 weeks.
I know it’s coming to the time where I’m going to have to cut the cord. It’s going to be difficult for both of us but I know it’s inevitable. Every morning at 2am when I’m cliff hanging off the side of my bed & cursing to myself, I know that something has to change. I am a sentimental emotion hoarder, knowing the end of something special is near sucks a bit. She’s spent very few nights away from me. Although after the tanty she’s just put on over a fucking Frozen fork & bowl of baked beans I’m pretty keen to see the back of her right now.
Master 7 often asks why he can’t sleep with me to. Truth be told I’ve not long had him out of my bed. When the Fathership is home he is always in his own room but when it’s just us here my defenses are down & sometimes I let him jump in. Then he wakes up with not enough sleep & is unbearable all day & walks around like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. Fuck that. He & I are far to similar to clash heads on the daily. I’m the only one with the weight of the world on my shoulders child, get in line! Until you’re the resident skiddy scrubber you don’t have a leg to stand on.
Regardless of my estimated 42 minutes of sleep last night, we had a reasonably pleasant morning. No one grunted at me because I asked them to get ready & Master 10 even showered without him carrying on like I’d asked for a limb. The toddler refused to wear pants but that’s ok. The Fathership blames that on me walking around the house without pants on 90% of the time so I get that. If I wouldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure I wouldn’t wear pants in public either!
We then all jumped in the car & I delighted them with my skills by singing along to Run DMC – It’s like that, for the entirety of our 3 minute journey. There’s a lot of things I can’t do, but perform in the car is not one of them!