No, I didn’t see the movie, yet. But I will. As soon as I see every single episode again, first.
When you’re a single parent, you’ve got some limited options. As far as getting laid, I mean. I mean, yea, you could just not. (Oh, who am I kidding? I’m totally talking about me. And maybe a coupla other ladies out there. ) And I’ve never been able to just not.
You can sleep with your kid’s daddy; use another ex; date (casually or otherwise); or find some random friend or coworker or person off the street and just you, know, do it. A combo of the above might lead to a semi-regular sex life. All of them has gots some issues, of course…
Sleeping with the other parent.
Heh. I think anyone whose been here before knows how that can turn out. It’s inevitable that one or the other or both will not be able to have the detachment necessary to keep separate the sex from the parental responsibility to each other – and your child. (I don’t have that problem.) And the person without the detachment will have an issue with the person who can you know, just do their thing.
And God! Someone could get knocked up! There could be a torrid re-initiation of your previously broken-down love affair. Here’s the problem: some shit just don’t change.
Sleeping with a different ex.
Works. As long as that whole detachment thing is present. Getting some with someone you enjoyed getting some with in a past life? Almost, sometimes, makes you not feel like 99% mommy-thing, 1% woman.You might feel as beautiful, sexy, thin, awake, insert-appropriate-adjective-here as you did the last time that you slept with captain ex.
Note: it helps if he’s forbidden fruit, the anti-thesis of your baby-daddy, and/or just really good in bed. (or covered in tattoos, if you’re me.)
Dating.
I’ve never done it. I’ve always jumped into relationships with my thighs wide open. Seems like it might be a good idea, but uh, if you’re not looking for a relationship of any sort, then you’re basically just looking at…
The Fuck Buddy.
Dude calls or texts you, you call or text him, you get when the gettin’s good and then you maybe hang out a bit and talk some smack while playing Mario Kart. Or maybe have some beers and then get busy. Whatever.
Sometimes the buddy is soley a descretionary device – the fall-back vibrator, if you will – plugged in when you’re up for action, but not every time you see each other. Sometimes, you just ‘hang out’ when you’re both hard up after a few months’ dry spell. Sometimes, it’s so easy, every single time you hang out, you’re looking at the clock, thinking, “is it too soon to sit on his lap and rip off my bra?”
As long as everything’s on the table and no one falls in love – if you both don’t want anyone to fall in love, that is – you’re golden. Until the next boyfriend comes along, or the fuckbuddy becomes him. Or until you find a new one to play around with. Unless you’re into overlapping for maximum guaranteed action, that is.
But watch out. If things might be getting just a little too emotional and you’re not down with that…you need to either have ‘the talk’ or decide if you can stand to lose the relationship that exists outside of the horizontal (or vertical, if you’re lucky) position. Cuz it’s pretty effing impossible to go back in time and pretend that he didn’t actually say ‘I love you’ and then back pedal with ‘I mean, I love spending time with you.’ Trust me on that tip.
But ocassionally, you might look for something totally random and hot and often drunken and maybe even a little teensy bit regrettable, in the form of the
One Night Stand.
For those of us who can keep our thighs together for a very very long, horribly boring, sex-free amount of time but then just blow up and need it? The one night stand can be easiest.
Relatively in-and-out, effortless, you can usually blame alcohol the next day, might have ‘forgotten’ to give out/write down a phone number – and hey, the still-present social head-shaking at it makes it just a bit naughty seeming (read: insanely hot, especially if clothing is shed on the way to the porn-room).
But the point is that you got some. And now, you can go back to your martyrific days of being a devoted mom who doesn’t ever ever need to do the mambo, sheets-styles. I applaude you for your chastity. I don’t have that.
Becoming one with yourself.
Works well enough for some people. I’m not some people. I wish you good luck. And ask: do you recommend a particular shower head with 16 different power settings?
