The age-old jokes about sex taking a backseat after marriage are nothing new. I remember when my fiancé received some playful jabs from his older friends about how intimacy would soon become a distant memory. He shot me a look, eyebrow raised, as if to silently ask if that was true. I confidently shook my head—no piece of paper was going to put a damper on our romantic life. And for a while, it didn’t.
Then came the kids.
Alongside the undeniable changes to my body—hello, stretch marks, a noticeable scar from a cesarean section, and a little extra weight in the back—came the overwhelming exhaustion of new parenthood. Sure, we still had moments of intimacy, but they were less frequent and often more rushed. Think of it as “sex light”: less time, less noise, and definitely less buildup. We started scheduling our intimate moments like they were appointments, but often, life got in the way.
One particular night, we returned home late after a family dinner, around 10 PM. Our eldest had fallen asleep in the car, so we quietly changed him and tucked him into bed. As I closed the door to the baby’s room (who was also sound asleep), I turned to my husband and said, “Got 10 minutes?” He chuckled and replied, “Absolutely.”
In a flash, we shed our clothes and jumped onto the bed. With him on top of me, I dared to think we had managed to carve out a perfect moment for ourselves. That’s when I heard the unmistakable voice of my son: “What are you guys doing?”
Oh no, not now! Why don’t we have locks on our door? I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me while my husband buried his head in my neck, trying (and failing) to stifle his laughter. Guess it was up to me to navigate this awkward situation.
“We’re talking.”
Seriously? “Talking?” was the best I could come up with?
“Talking naked?” my five-year-old chimed in, “That’s silly.”
“That’s us, super silly! Did you need something?” I blurted out, desperately trying to end this mortifying moment.
“Did I leave Mr. Bear in here?” my innocent child asked.
My husband reached over, found Mr. Bear, and tossed it toward our son. “Thanks!” he shouted, “Good night!”
I sighed in relief, thinking the ordeal was over. But then my son popped his head back in like a little detective who’d forgotten something crucial. “You know…” he mused, “If you really are talking naked, you’re doing it all wrong. Daddy’s still wearing socks.”
Once he finally left, we lay on the bed, laughing uncontrollably, gasping for breath. The moment had shifted from steamy to side-splitting. While our plans for romance had fizzled out, what we shared that night felt even more intimate—hilariously real.
We ended the night with a microwave pizza and drifted off to sleep. Honestly, it was better than sex.
For more humorous takes on parenting and insights into family life, check out some of our other posts. If you’re also navigating the journey of parenthood, this excellent resource on pregnancy week by week from March of Dimes can be very helpful. And if you’re curious about self insemination, visit Make a Mom for their authoritative guide on at-home insemination kits.
Summary:
Navigating intimacy post-marriage can be challenging, especially with children in the mix. A light-hearted anecdote highlights the humorous and often awkward moments parents face, reminding us that laughter can be an intimate experience in itself.