Just Doing It

Guys can fake it. I can recount that I have done it after working a full day, cleaning the meantime mess enough to do supper, made and cleaned that up, reading to kids and supervising teeth brushing. I did it even though reading a few paragraphs and falling asleep would be a much bigger turn-on. I've done it to keep the peace. I've done it to avoid the calendaring of "how long it's been since last time..." Yes, guys can fake it. Just because it stands up and stuff comes out does not make the other person a sex goddess. It doesn't take a lot of skill to complete the male cycle. A pile of cold rocks can pretty much do that when the hormones are upswinging.

But then there's love making. There's connection. AND there's physical arousal and intense pleasure. There's doing it not to pass a particular obligatory female neuro threshold, but for no purpose whatever except to do it.  Just doing it. Especially post-vas.

There should be more of this for everyone.

The Strange Dream

A couple of nights back, I dreamt of a white winter ski hat that I recall from family life. It got passed to different kids grabbed occasionally by an adult, but was always there in the winter accessory bin. In the dream I was working to fasten the hat onto a trapeze-like swing. It was winter. The swing was set up behind a snow bank at the edge of a parking lot.

The literal reading of course makes no sense. What the dream was about was the intense sadness of identifying what I took with me when I exited the marriage.

In parking lots or in-laws driveways or any other place where we were without money and needing to have fun, I could find a way to make that fun for the kids. This was my gift. I didn't do well with money. I wasn't much of an authority figure. I could, however, make fun out of nothing.

This snowy swing, behind some parking lot was my gift to my family. I took it with me. It's not that I can't still give this to my kids when they're with me, but things have changed.