So, you know about my bedtime rituals but what you don’t know anything about is my love life. And by love life I mean my sex life. Your faces are changing now, your brows flying up, your mouth slightly opening and, if you know me, you’re not even sure that you want to continue reading this post. Don’t worry it’s nothing kinky or too revealing. I want to share a story I hear happens in other households as well. Or maybe it doesn’t but everyone is too polite to tell me.
Last summer vacation we spent in Korčula, a beautiful little town in the Adriatic Sea, also known as little Dubrovnik. We didn’t know many people there, especially people with small children and if you have a small kid ( like I have my little girl ) it is crucial to know someone with children when you’re away from home.
So, what did I do? I found her ballet lessons! She loves to dance, we love that she loves it and everyone is happy. It was three times a week. There she could mingle with her own people, four and five years olds. And we, we could enjoy our hour of freedom.
I made a plan. I drive her on my bike to the school where the class is held, I race home, we have passionate lovemaking. We are finished in half an hour and I have plenty of time to go back and pick her up. I also tell my husband to prepare the music and some wine for the whole romantic experience.
The plan was great, bullet proof, or so I thought. The day came. I cycled home fast like I’m in that race – Tour de France and I found my husband on the terrace. While I was taking a shower outside in the garden, he started to tell me something about the lady next door with whom we share a very spacious terraced garden. Apparently, she saw a guy entering our mutual garden with a dog and using it as a doggy toilet…
I got interested in the story and wrapped up in a towel. I sat on our comfortable garden five-seater, listening to my husband’s suggestions about what we should do to minimise that kind of trespassing. Then I put my legs up and lied down, still engrossed in the conversation about people’s rudeness and lack of culture.
Forty minutes later my husband was standing above me, telling me to wake up and go pick up our daughter. I was confused and disoriented and at first I thought we had made love and I had fallen asleep but then I realised it was abeautiful and quiet afternoon nap that I took and I was not even sorry I missed other things that were supposed to happen. We had Wednesday, I thought.
Wednesday came. Everything was arranged and ready for some romance. I came home, this time I didn’t even race. We had time. The music was playing and the wine was opened. I sat down and wondered if I could just finish the chapter I had begun to read. It would take me like five to ten minutes and the plot was very tense. My husband conceded. We had time and didn’t have to rush.
The quiet and freedom, that feeling we used to have when we were just a couple came back. It was beautiful. We lied one opposite to another on our soft, rattan garden set. Our feet were touching and we played with our toes while enjoying the pure balance of nature and no pressure to do anything. It was a blessing to be able to relax and we decided we shouldn’t do anything, not even have sex. It would spoil our beautiful peaceful flow and our little balanced bubble we had just found again.
And thus, Friday came. We had a nap that was evidently very needed, we read a book without disruptions, we checked all our boxes and finally it was time for some love making. I rode my bike home greeting and talking to many people on my way. I was relaxed. My husband was relaxed. We made love and it was wonderful.
Moreover, we concluded it wouldn’t be so great if we had done it the first day. We were too tense the first day. Now, everything was chill more enjoyable. But we also concluded that we shouldn’t do it again too soon. Why? Such perfect conditions didn’t come often and we would just be disappointed if we didn’t experience this perfection again. Read between the lines: We don’t have energy to fool around every other day or every third day for that matter ( like some people in their forties I hear do, wink, wink )
And that’s the story of being forty-five and having small kids, not having a bundle of energy you can just spend on anything that comes your way and making smart decisions, right? Read more about my quest for energy and balanced life in my book In Pursuit of Change.