oh SNAP! DISCOVERY!

Ladies, I was discovered. Due to my placement at the top of the last Constance Building Newsletter, and the fact that I had not bookmarked the general Constance site (meaning I'd had to type it in so it popped up when my husband went to type in a site) he found my dee-lux apartment.

Now, in my case this was sort of a blessing, as it allowed him to see my side of the situation, without interrupting me the entire time so I couldn't get my thoughts out.

But.

Let this be a warning! He reconized me because I had posted the ages of our kids, and of course because I was bitching about sex.

Anyway, things are improved between us because I am making an effort to get myself in the mood more often. I moved the baby out of our room, and that involved a lot of furniture rearrangement, and he was touched by the amount of effort I'd put into improving our hump life. I understand that the horizontal bop is his love language. I do love him, so I'm trying.

Since this is still supposedly a secret blog, I will share that I watched some VH1 special about shocking reality moments or something last night, and there was a moment about Ryan Seacrest and Simon Cowell having a bit of a catfight. And the sexual tension was, uh, tense, and I have to admit I wish the two of them would start dating and that would be hot.

Anyway, I haven't decided whether I will keep on posting here, as I don't expect my husband will be checking in and I don't have any big secrets... I just need a place to vent. Or, whether I will move across the hall or something... but for now, I wanted to warn you all of the need for using the post-via-email function if you are on a shared computer.

Love,
Constance

trying

Have requested a date tonight at 9:30. Hopefully the kids will cooperate and bedtime won't be drawn out that late, as if has often been since the time change. (But do they sleep in later? No.)

 

We have to get the baby moved out of our room. It sure would be nice to do it in a bed again. We've been working around that for 18 months now. (Her crib is in our room. There isn't another bedroom for her, and she still [STILL!] wakes during the night so we can't put her in with siblings.) That does impact my interest level, because after a while the excitement of doing it everywhere else is gone, and it's like sex on the beach. Sounds nice, but you end up with lots of bug bites and sand in your cervix. Except in my case you can substitute crumbs for the sand. No bug bites -- yet.

 

Casey, I so appreciate your advice and thoughts on all this. It's easy, when someone is venting, to make a complicated situation seem simple and one dimensional -- a good guy and a bad guy. Right and wrong. I appreciate your objective take on all this. (Everyone else, too.)

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more obsessing-- i mean, "meditating"

I still feel horrible. I'm so depressed, and just sick over this. I found some Mens' Health forum discussion about frequency of sex in a marriage, and all the guys posting on there were on about how devastated they are, and how their wives can't love them for who they are.

 

On one hand, it gave me some good perspective on how the Husband must be feeling and why this is such a big deal to him.

 

On the other hand, I really have no idea how to feel differently about having sex when I don't want to. Maybe I should go off my anxiety meds, as he's pushed me to do, since he's concerned about the sexual side effects. Can't help but be a tiny bit bitter about the lack of regard for my emotional balance though. He doesn't really have emotional/mental problems, though, so he has no clue as to what it's like. He's quite convinced that if you're depressed, you just need to *not* be depressed anymore.

 

About the counseling, we did talk a bit more in depth about it, but he said there's logistically no way we can go -- that we can't afford it (though I know there are ways we could) and also because finding a babysitter for this many children this young is 1) nigh impossible and 2) prohibitively expensive.

 

He is very affectionate, very helpful (does tons and tons around the house)... so it's not that he's lacking in that regard. It really is just that I don't want to, or I get a bit uncomfortable or freaked out partway through, and I fear that, so maybe avoid it more than I otherwise would.

 

But the sex ultimatum, for me, is like if I said to him, "You aren't meeting my emotional needs if you don't buy me expensive jewelry." It's that absurd. Just like my love for him and commitment to him doesn't hinge on what he can give me materially, I am totally shaken that his love and commitment to me does hinge on how much sex I give him.

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it's terminal (ew, gross post about sex)

Hello all! My name is Constance, and I have a shameful secret. It is: I don't want to have sex every day.

:(

I know, it's very sad. I am ashamed. But it gets worse! I don't even want to have sex every other day.

In fact, I probably could get by without it indefinitely. I have found that the more I have it, the more I want it... but wanting it the initial time seems to be my weak point.

I am 30-something years old, and for some reason I feel like I am beyond -- nay, above -- obligatory sex. Yes, even with my beloved husband. I cannot pull off the "once a week whether we need it or not" sex life without wanting to stab him. (He wasn't the one making that suggestion, in his defense.)

Anyone who actually knows me can skip this next paragraph, but I was raped in 1999. Date rape. I'm sure the guy thought he was just being convincing -- it's not like he had me at gunpoint or anything. I just felt trapped and he wasn't listening to me, so after a while I thought, "Well, lots of people have one-night stands, I guess." So whatever that is, whether it's technically rape or not, that's what happened and for whatever reason I get pretty freaked out by really any level of "convincing" about sex. Including foreplay. For the most part my thinking is, "If I said it's okay, let's just get on with it."

I know that's not very romantic. Unfortunately my husband is a romantic.

So today, in the middle of a normal drive around town after taking the kids to the park, he mentions that maybe we should go to counseling, because we have such different desires and expectations in that arena.

Now keep in mind, we still do it at least once a week. I'd say we average 5x/month. Sometimes more, occasionally less. I feel like that's a lot. He feels like he can't believe I don't want to have sex with him any more than that. WTF? He also wants me to be more into it. Uh... I don't want to be doing it? So I am already faking it to my fullest ability?

I feel horrible posting about this, because he would be mortified and feel betrayed, but at the same time I am absolutely devastated that he is unhappy enough (or, according to him, "I'm not unhappy..." Again, WTF??? Of course you are if you are saying that instead of, "I'm happy!") to bring up counseling (he's not a talky kind of guy) and also, I hate that he thinks my sexual preferences need to be "fixed" somehow. If I suggested he was some sort of sick deviant for wanting sex every fucking day, or more days than not, he would be furious and hurt. But it is supposed to be okay for him to imply I am cold and uncaring and there is something wrong with me if I don't want it any more than I do.

And, as a pleasant aside, this whole encounter today? Definintely NOT making me want it. It makes me feel so betrayed and erodes the intimacy in our relationship. No idea how to jump back in from there.

need to get this off my chest

FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Everyone SHUT THE FUCK UP and leave me alone! Stop covering yourselves with mud and paint and then crying about taking baths!

 

I am way overstimulated right now. Having four kids around 24/7 doesn't help that. I need a sensory deprivation chamber so I can lock them in it.

 

Oh, God help me through this day.

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a (hidden) open letter to my husband

Dear Husband,

 

I love you so. I am glad you are creative and have awesome ideas and are driven enough to work toward starting your own business.

 

However, part of the reason I was excited to spend my days with little people who scream on me and use my shirt as a Kleenex, was that marketing-speak drives me mad with boredom. I consider this a disability -- as some people cannot recognize faces, I cannot absorb anything to do with marketing or bandwidth or boring boring boring bleh. 

 

You are killing my brain. I bought you a notebook. Write all your thoughts about your business down in it and then you can stop telling them to me.

 

Love,

your wife, who wants to talk about reality television and what the baby did today that you'll never guess
 

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You rock. That's why Blockbuster's offering you one month of Blockbuster Total Access, No Cost.

the rage has to be unhealthy

I don't really blame my husband for being gone during his once-a-week night out. I begrudge him that time like crazy, but I don't hate him for it or anything. I want to punch him in the face for it sometimes, yeah, but only in a friendly way.

But right now, for example, it is 7:57 p.m. Bedtime here is 7 because my kids are evil morning people and wake up by 6 each morning.

Right now I can hear that G5 is tiptoeing to her brothers' room and talking to them. This is after a 30-minute tantrum, after I had to lay in bed with them one at a time to get them to stop hyperventilating, after I put the baby to bed, then G5 to bed, then G5 needed markers and a coloring book because she wasn't tired, then she came downstairs and needed medicine... I need a fucking break.

Today was a rough day and I really handled it well, for me. I didn't lose my temper with them. I tried to make the day fun and not stay angry at them for the dumb-kid things they did.

Still, though, I've been with them for 11 hours straight by the time he leaves. And he deserves the time away, and he offers and gives me time away whenever I want it, but that doesn't negate the fact that the 12-14 hour day I put in with them is a long one.

And that our cat just threw up in the fucking living room.