Sex and the Soccer Mom

It's not easy getting busy when you're married with kids

In Her Words

Sex and The Soccer Mom

It’s not easy getting busy

-Stephanie Elliot

In a rare moment of intimacy, when my husband and I are in the house at the same time, two kids are at school, and the last one is sitting quietly in front of the TV, we are like two ships in the night, gliding past one another in our bedroom – he, getting dressed for work; me, about to hop into the shower.

We glance at one another, and I see it in his eyes. I am feeling it too, and I move in for what I want.

It’s not what you think. I am after some N.S.A.

Non-Sexual Affection.

I want a full body, skin-to-skin hug to connect us, so I step into his arms. We hold each other for a few minutes and I whisper to him that I wish we could just get into bed and lie together all morning like this.

Of course, he gets the wrong idea, because what I really meant was, “I wish we could just get into bed and lie together all morning like this.”

He replies, “I’ll take care of you.” I think this means he will continue to hug me and maybe rub my back a while, push the hair from my face, kiss me sweetly and tell me he loves me while I rest with my eyes closed, relishing in the quietness of the house while he and I reconnect in the midst of a busy week.

He’s thinking Orgasm.

His Orgasm. Not mine. Which I can’t blame him because he knows under no circumstances (OK, possibly at midnight when I am sure all three kids are asleep and I have just finished a bottle of wine), will I be able to relax enough to do this when there is a remote chance we could be interrupted by children.

But, today, I figure we might as well make a go for it because with only a third of our children home, the odds are in our favor that we won’t get interrupted. I quickly check on our preschooler and find him engrossed in the antics of Dora and Boots, and there’s still 20 minutes left in the episode. Houston, we have lift-off!

But, of course, as soon as those initial sparks ignite, on perfect cue we hear our preschooler yell, “Mom, I need you to tie my pants!”

“I can’t! I’m getting in the shower so I’ll do it in a minute!” I reply.

Footsteps approach the bedroom door: “Daddy can do it for me!”

A simultaneous “No!” erupts from our side of the door as we look to each other in terror, all passion fizzling.

It’s just not like it used to be. Sex now, 12 years and three kids later … well, you tell me an easy way to “get busy.”

Communication is key, and we’ve always been able to communicate with one another. B.C. (Before Children), we needed to communicate with one another on if we wanted to stay in bed and have more sex or if we should get up to get something to eat before getting back into bed for more sex. Or, did we want to eat in bed while having sex? Life was so much easier back then.

But fortunately, what keeps our marriage strong and our sex life healthy is that we still communicate, just a bit differently. We “communicate” faster these days, and usually behind a locked closet door or atop the bathroom vanity. There are screams of, “We’ll be right out! I’m helping Daddy fix the leaky faucet!” intermittently mixed with passionate whispers of, “You have to hurry up – they’re right outside the door!”

In B.C. times, sex was akin to a great date night, the whole shebang – the dressing up, sexy undies, the makeup and hair, a spritz of expensive “I’m-going-to-have-sex” perfume. It included the pre-cocktail cocktail, the pre-dinner cocktail, a shared bottle of wine, and an elaborate gourmet meal with a decadent chocolate dessert. There’d be an after-dinner drink, the touches, glances, innuendoes, and finally, the main event, complete with candles, music, and boisterous reaffirmations that we’d rather be no place else in the world. Oh, and let’s not forget mind-blowing simultaneous orgasms.

Now, there’s still sex, just not so much of it, and not with such fanfare. I’m now from the “It’s all about the quality, not quantity” school of thought, and I’m so thankful my husband attends this school too, or else this might have been an essay on divorce.

Sex now is like parking in the tow-away zone, running into McDonald’s, having only a couple bucks and choosing something from the Dollar Menu. You have to know what you want, and you usually want it hot and fast. It’s got to be easy, and it’s oftentimes pretty cheap.

But you know, at the end of the day, that double cheeseburger is still going to be really, really delicious, and this is because it loves you and it’s the cheeseburger of your three children.

Stephanie Elliot is a contributing editor at Betty, and she also answers your parenting questions at Just Another Manic Mommy. Visit her at or

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7 thoughts on “Sex and the Soccer Mom

  1. This is hilarious! Such a shame life gets reduced to trying to steal some time together cause everything else has taken over. Whatever happened to a little nighttime action?

  2. What’s the point of getting married, if you’re not going to get the “fringe” benefits when you want them, totally puts a damper on the thought if you have to “steal” some time to get some action.

  3. Oh dear, I use the dollar menu label as well!! There are nights– here and there– that we get to order off the full, fancy menu, but the usual is exhausted dollar menu options. :)

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