I've been absent and neglectful regarding this blog lately. I do have tales to tell, but between my increased workload, no babysitter last week and being sick, it's just not happening. I've checked out of the blog world for a spell, but I shall return and soon. Because I know you're dying to know the results of Delaney's skin test from last week. You're on pins and needles, right? Don't lie.
In the meantime, why don't you visit Erotimama to read what those naughty mamas are up to?
The other evening as Roger handed Delaney off to me so I could dry her after her bath, I asked him, "Did you brush her teeth yet?" "No. I haven't," he replied and left the room to make a phone call. I laid Delaney down to put her jammies on and when I went to put the toothbrush in her mouth she pushed the toothbrush away with her hand and exclaimed, "Daddy dooed it!" I was flabbergasted. My 25-month-old daughter just told me her first bold-faced lie. She didn't want me to brush her teeth and figured, even though I'd just heard him tell me he hadn't, that if she told me he had, she'd be off the hook. What she didn't know? Mama don't play that. "Oh no, he didn't!" I retorted. She looked at me carefully, considering her response and then spoke, "Well, somebody dooed it."
Remember the "new blog idea" I had "percolating" back on January 1st? No? Well it has been a while. You're forgiven. Anyway, it's finally a reality. Behold the seductive powers of...ErotiMama! ErotiMama is written by mamas, for mamas. This new, upscale blog accepts submissions for
tastefully seductive fiction, fantasies and/or confessions. You can submit
fiction and fantasies and elect to remain anonymous or, for the
adventuresome, claim your posts (with a byline and a link back to your
That photo is one of a series I had taken for a sexy wedding book gift for Roger. The photo was shot in August 2003 and it was a hot summer here in Texas. I was feeling pretty hot myself at the time. A pre-newlywed about to embark on an amorous (and hopefully depraved) wedding/honeymoon in the tropics, I wanted a way to immortalize the sultry minx that lurked deep within me. I'd heard tales of women who married and had kids and whose sex life became an afterthought or, worse, non-existent. I didn't want that to happen to me, although I knew it was a possibility what with the demands of parenthood. But now that photo hangs in our bedroom to remind me (and Roger too) that although I am Mother and Supportive Wife, I'm also a sexy, sensual woman who needs the touch of her partner (or her limitless imagination) to coax that minx back to life.
I created ErotiMama so mamas would have a safe, fun, creative place to unleash their sexier, yet
sophisticated, sides. And who knows? Writing for ErotiMama (anonymously or not) may not only embolden your sexy spirit, but it might also turn on your husband or significant other too. As the site's first (anonymous) poster told me via email, "Can I tell you just how cool my husband thought it was that I would try this? Very cool. If nothing else, this might ignite some flames in my own bedroom!"
The site launched this week and our first post is up (I didn't write it! Or did I?). I hope you'll visit the site regularly and tell your friends and blog readers about it. And I really hope you'll submit your sexy stories (real or fiction, anonymous or not). Deep inside all of us lies a seductress or "Mominatrix," according to Kristen Chase*, and it's our job to let her out to play more often. Let's get it on!
I'll admit it. I've got a touch of the OCD. But only a teensy, weensy bit (Roger, you keep your comments to yourself!). So it's no wonder that my sweet, perceptive, unassuming daughter should start to notice and pick up mama's ugly habits. Dang. I thought I had at least a few more years until that happened.
Sometimes (but not always!) when Delaney and I get to the front door to go somewhere, I have to tell her to hold on a sec. I then dash into the kitchen and touch each and every one of the four burners on the stove--even if we haven't used them that day. OK. It's a little out there. But for some reason doing that allows me to proceed with my day, conscience clear that the house won't burn to the ground. Whatever. You've got quirks too. Admit it!
I've got to get a handle on this zany behavior of mine, though, because the other day when I did that? Here's what happened: I returned to Delaney's side by the front door after having touched the burners. I told her we were ready to go. But she looked up at me, all innocence and light, and said, "Hold on, mama." And she walked over, touched the tiny burners on her play kitchen and beamed brightly at me. I had no idea she'd been paying attention to my nasty little habit. So this was not my proudest parenting achievement to be sure. The only upsides? At least I know her future home won't burn down from those dastardly burners either. And maybe together we can find a really great psychologist who'll give us the family rate.