Mood:
amorousTopic: Evil Things
So, we have established that I have a fantastic husband and three beautiful children, and that my life, although chaotic and peppered with expletives and baby shit, is basically wonderful. I could do with a little more money and a little less stress, but then again, couldn't everyone? But I wonder, sometimes, if I should be more worried about the Absence of the Performance of the Procedure.
Dooce, although I seldom actually read her anymore, blogged memorably about reconvening the procedure with her husband after the appropriate period of postpartum pelvic rest had expired. Isn't that a hysterical bit of terminology? Pelvic Rest. That's the six-week period of time after a vaginal birth when absolutely nothing is meant to pass through the portals of the Fun Zone. Well, egress is permitted as necessary, but ingress of any sort is strictly forbidden. Julia is seven weeks old, though, and those mandates are behind us.
So. Hubba hubba, right? Well; no. Not exactly. The thing is, when you're middle-aged and both have demanding careers and also have three children under the age of five, the performance of the procedure isn't exactly something that has a huge place in your daily schedule. Not even necessarily in your weekly schedule. Not even -- dare I say it? -- completely necessarily in your monthly schedule.
Is that awful? It's got to be awful. Absolutely every authority on earth says that the procedure has to have its rightful place in every successful marital relationship. But the truth is that the procedure, while it's always been a cool and worthy procedure, has become a sort of rara avis in Castle Crumpacker; it's a thing greatly to be appreciated, but seldom to be actually observed. A lot like the ivory-billed woodpecker. No one is especially unhappy about that -- no one is feeling angry or restless or abandoned or unloved. It's just that, you know, it's so hard to get to. And occasionally we look at each other and say Hey, I know you. I miss you. Remember what all that used to be like? And then we hug about the neck, and grin, and go back to wiping noses and asses and reading stories and doing laundry.
We're happy. We both agree we're stupidly happy. We're crazy about our kids. We enjoy each other's company. We're not feeling unloved or missing romance -- we've got tons of both! We just don't have the procedure. Not because we don't like the procedure, just that it's like listening to an exquisite adagio or tasting a fantastic wine or viewing a really gorgeously photographed movie -- we know we would enjoy the hell out of it, we just never seem to get a chance to actually sit down and do it.
It's funny, because people look at us and all these kids and figure we must be just like bunny rabbits over here. One of the partners at my law firm said it at my baby shower lunch: You two have got to find another hobby. Ironic, that. Because honestly? The procedure? Isn't a really common thing. Julia was practically an immaculate conception.
Is that so bad? Is it okay if we just get to it when we can? We realize that if you don't practice a skill you get rusty, and we may have to take refresher courses and possibly even go to summer school, and we are both totally willing to do that. You know, whatever it takes. But it's just so hard to get to right now. And I'm just figuring that every expert on earth would be saying it's a recipe for MARITAL DISASTER and we MUST address the issue of the dearth of the procedure or our marriage will IMPLODE, but to us? That just sounds like work. That just sounds like one more goddamned thing we've got to worry about and deal with. Which we don't need.
What do you think?
Posted by Gretchen
at 4:19 PM PDT
