Lack, Love and Illness


8.49 am (up throughout the night nursing a poorly Naoise; 11pm, 1pm, 3pm, 6am)

It is as if Naoise isn’t here. He wakes occasionally has a drink of water, maybe watches a little television, takes some infant paracetamol then falls back to sleep again. In the night he had a fever, I lifted him to a seated position in the bed, propped him up with my arm against his back and held the cup to his mouth so that he could drink. There is little else that I can do for him, other than make him comfy, make sure he drinks enough water to avoid dehydration. He has been a little sick, but its just bile and water, he hasn’t eaten a thing in twenty four hours. He is pale, lethargic, and complains that his stomach hurts, poor little Naoise. I held him on my knee and it was as if he was a baby again.

We watched many many episodes of Abney and Teal and then Peter Rabbit, I managed to keep him from endless Power Rangers, though mainly because the thumps grunts and rapid choreography was even hurting his head. He must be really ill !

He must be really ill because after a long stretch of sleep from late morning to mid afternoon, he woke up all confused and disorientated thinking that it was the next day  I don’t think I am well enough for school today mummy. I gave him a hug and explained that it was still the same day.

I’m not the best nurse, I lack the patience of my mother but then she was a professional. Calm, attentive, nurturing, present, relaxed. I used to love the way she stroked my hair, sat on my bed, took my temperature with a glass thermometer, just looked at me with kindness. I remember me and my brother and my sisters all having chicken pox and her tucking us all into bed together. I remember her smothering me with calomile lotion and lots of warm baths and itching and itching and itching. I itched too much and some of my pox became infected, I have many dints and scars. I guess that there was’nt  any magic anti histamine medicines or infant paracetamol then.

I’m not the best nurse, I hate being confined to the house, unable to leave, to be always present. The walls start to draw in and I feel so claustrophobic. I am not keen on the inside at all. I managed to negotiate some release time this evening when I explained to my partner that unless he worked from home this evening then I would be subjected to spending over 78 hours inside the house without a break. Now I am moaning, I ought to think myself fortunate that I have a partner to give me a break.


Its Valentines day on Saturday, I am not one to conform, but I like the cheap pink fizzy alcoholic pop that arrives on the shelves of the supermarket and I think that it is a good excuse to try and rekindle some passion in the bedroom. I’m spending Valentines Day at the Whitworth Art Gallery opening celebrations in Manchester so I thought that I really should make some effort to be proactive and romantic in the evening. Its good to plan these things, being a parent of two children , one young one a teenager, there seem few opportunities for romance, adult love, spontaneous sex, so with this in mind, I started to make plans to try and redress the balance and I requested that all my Facebook friends make  Suggestions for sexy/saucy films for a saucy Saturday night in with my lover!. 

I share here with you my friends film knowledge and generosity, there were even ideas for music (Prince, Get Off) Its good to share the love, perhaps this will be a helpful reference for all parents out there needing to rekindle their fires, I know mine definitely needs re- igniting, I am all burned out coals.

I usually fall asleep watching films, one friend recommended that I skip the film altogether, very wise advice, and if I can get my lovely Naoise to sleep that is exactly what I will do. I think though in reality it may be that little Naoise will be sharing the romantic night with myself and my partner, though you never know with his current illness he may be so sleepy that my luck/our luck may hold strong.

Sexy/Romantic films for a Saucy Saturday night in with your lover 

Rita, Sue and Bob too


The Notebook

The Time Travellers Wife


Anything by Pedro Almodova

The Secretary


Boogie Nights

Realm of the Senses

9 Songs

Porn or Gone with the Wind

Jackie Brown

True Romance

White Palace

Eyes Wide Shut

Its hard to be spontaneous with sex when you are in the presence of children all the time, the opportunities to be intimate with each other are lessened. I guess I just need to be more creative with the little bit of time we have, but mostly I just collapse asleep in bed with Naoise once I have read him stories. I am not a night owl, I am a morning person, and my partner is a night owl. So when is it that I am meant to be sexy with him? When do I fit that into the routine ? I can hardly keep the house straight let alone consider slotting sex in. This is sad isn’t it.

(Note to self read this article from the Family section of the Guardian  Sex: “Whatever you’re doing, double it”  about the working couple with young children who managed to have sex every day for a year, perhaps there is something to learn from them, they look awfully smug in the photograph, but I am probably just very envious)

I seem to have completely lost my libido. Is it something to do with my role as a mother ? I know loads of gorgeous sexy women who happen to be mothers too. Why is it that I feel so lacking in sexuality?  Desire ?  Attractiveness ? Its not just that I feel tired most of the time, its not just that. Its as if mothering has taken the passion out of me. I don’t seem to be able to see myself as both sexy me and sexy mother, but I would like too, I am working on it, trying to loose weight, get fit, make an effort, paint my lips red. When I look at photographs of myself with the kids I don’t see one image where I think there is a sexy mum. Why not? I need to look again, look a little closer, maybe there is one among the hundreds. Ok so there are a couple, I don’t want to publish them here, they are too intimate, I want to keep some of my life private. In the photograph, I am breastfeeding, my breasts are full, I am looking happy, smiling out from a sea of sheets and contentment. Yes I can be a sexy mum.

Perhaps it is that the children supply me with so much affection, tenderness, love, hugs and kisses that I simply don’t need any more touching. Often I would rather drink a cup of tea and get in bed with a book  than contemplate a night of passion. Oh dear dear me, what a sad state of lacking. I’m sure I am not alone in this, am I ?  This lack of desire. Does some of this insecurity in my body, my sex, this lack of sexuality come from the outside in? Is society prudish about sex, about mothers wanting sex, about mothers exploring their sexuality ? Are mothers not aloud to be sexy, is my sexuality being repressed? Is it all me ? Is it ?

I do remember feeling sexy when I was mid pregnancy, I felt that I was budding, all full of life and joy, but that was six years ago now.

Maybe it would help to revisit the books that I read in my sexy twenties; american beat generation fiction stuff like Love Me Tender ( Catherine Texier), Slaves of New York (Tama Janowitz), The Story of the Eye ( Georges Baiaille), perhaps these books will respark my imagination, help me to find the sexual me, dig down deep into my unconscious. Just act, have some fun with mind and body. I picked up Love Me Tender, the book opened on page 14, this is what I read;

Lulu lifts up her head from Julian’s crotch, a hair on her tongue that she peels off between two fingers. He’s got strawberry-blond pubic hair that smells like honey, a long cock turned upwards. What are you doing? he says. Go on. Nobody’s ever done it to me like that. Never ? Never quite like that. He pushes her down on his white skinny thighs. He says, J’ai envie de capoter aver too, a phrase he told her he learned in Montreal. She floats over him, her wide skirt hovering about his face like a black raven, Then his weirdly bent cock makes her come screaming out loud. His dark eyes stare at her so intensely she thinks she touches something deep in him but maybe it’s only her, a chinc in her own armour, it must’ve been her.

I found this article from Bomb Magazine: Motherhood and Sexualility by Bette Gordon and Catherine Texier. Need to read more about the subject of Motherhood and Sexuality, need to make the time and space to draw not just write. Need to escape to the studio.












Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *