As my readers may have gathered from past blogs, time for intimacy is far a few between so to speak. Whether it be due to the stresses of day to day struggles such as finances or the like, it seems as though the opportunities for sex just don’t arise as often as they used to. Perhaps the deep seeded inner drive has also become less of a priority overall when the overwhelming pressure of our children’s needs are now prioritized over much else, and the fact that we’re often just too fucking tired is of no assistance at all. However, there are times when we do find each other with a sense of sexual hunger without even realizing the outside world exists. It’s actually surprising to be honest when considering either hankering family issues or personal anxieties that life serves with ironic blemishes.

Even though our oldest son might have just punched a hole in his wall because we’ve repossessed his computer labtop due to poor grades, or we’ve reneged  on our promise to let our middle son have a dessert because he cursed us for not providing the preferred milk type for his morning cereal, there is a moment within the day’s 24 hour period where these problems are forgotten and our minds are clear and open to intimate conquests. Yes, although my oldest daughter may have blown out both of her tonsils during a screaming episode because we threatened an early bedtime for a bedroom mess she created all on her own, or my youngest daughter refused to budge out of the door as the school bus approached only because we disallowed her from wearing her high heel sandals through the 2 feet of snow that fell overnight, my wife and I have discovered a time of day when we are oblivious to these matters and succumb to the raw senses pulling one another towards each other’s warm, yearning bodies. Whether the Taxman has been pestering us for weeks to pay the dues which we have no idea how to come up with, or as in our most recent misfortunes have found ourselves without sustainable careers, there is a juncture in time where our most organic instincts draw our arms and legs around each other to once more feel the satisfaction and gratification of carnal pleasure. I call this occasion the 2 am’er.

My wife is typically the first to retire to the  bedroom for the evenings. I usually stretch my evenings out longer, as when the children have finally fallen asleep it seems to be the lone hour to simply unwind from the turbulent day gone by. I often fall asleep on the couch in front of a running television and awake in the same uncomfortable position in which my conscious mind expired the evening before. I also frequently fall asleep in the beds of the children whose bodies were the last to surrender. In those cases I wake up pretzeled and mangled amongst my kids’ small frames along with their stuffed animals and books that forced me to bundle myself into a small enough physique that could be packaged in a UPS box. But, when I do make it to my own bed by midnight from time to time, the realm of possibility for my wife and I to get busy increases.

Occasionally in those instances where I do fall asleep in bed with my wife, we are both completely unconscious, removed from the duties of parents, detached from the parent teacher conference earlier that week from which we left grinding our teeth, dislodged of the worries of how our monthly budget cannot even stretch us through the 3rd week of March, and completely aloof to the fact that we will be receiving a hefty hospital bill from last week’s visit when we thought our daughter’s appendix burst only to discover that the insane volume of chocolate she secretly devoured caused tremendous gas. No, all cognizant and pragmatic thoughts are temporarily suspended. And in the moment where we might be drowned in deepest sleep, our feet might accidentally contact each other, or one of our hands might have shifted in a manner that stroked the other’s backside resulting in a mutual tingle, a reciprocal touch, and finally a collective reunion of lips and torsos. It is then, that without the confines of realistic burdens that we are free to retreat back to our most basic desire for each other and allow the wilder drive within ourselves to overtake each other. It is rare for parents of 4 children but always welcome….even at 2am.

When we have concluded with our affections we look at the clock and realize that the morning will soon be upon us and also that the day’s errands and struggles are imminent as cold reality sets in. In 4 hours we will awake to the children fighting over the last of the fucking maple syrup for their waffles, the sweet sounds of our 2 boys calling each other gay bitches whilst fighting over the toilet again and our 2 girls pulling each other’s hair over the last pair of non itchy socks. Wonderful? Strangely yes, I’ll take the much needed affair with my wife anytime. The 2am ‘er certainly beats no sex for Daddy, and my wife and I do grasp onto the closeness we previously shared for the remainder of  the day, making the strife of life more bearable as we tackle it together as man and wife instead of 2 adults strangers.