Once a week, Daily Intelligencer takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Polyamorous Mother Waking Her Baby With Her Orgasm Noises: 30, Richmond, Virginia, safe sex toy activist, partnered, queer.
8:34 a.m. The Governess and my partner are still tangled up, asleep in his bed. He and I have been together for three years (and have one child together). The Governess has been a friend of his since they were teens; the romantic aspect just started last week, and we are in a feeling-out place as far as our combined relationship. While they are old friends, we have a pretty equal level of relationship with her. Our poly (open) relationship doesn’t have any rules, beyond safer sex practices because I have herpes.
8:45 a.m. I slip out to nurse a little man who is far too happy to be awake for my tastes. Three hours of sleep following our first threesome, and I’m trying to remember how to make coffee. Still rolling from the orgasmic power that was the three of us climaxing at once.
11:30 a.m. Entire pot of coffee consumed. The kids, all preschool aged, are content. We have four kids. I have two biological kids, who are 3 and a year, plus two stepkids who are 4 and a year and a half. The 3- and 4-year-olds are girls; the younger two are boys.
9 p.m. After a day of deep conversations while our wee monsters play, the Governess is off with kisses. The house feels strange without her.
11:48 p.m. I’m exhausted from the epic bedtime battle. Son fought sleep with all his might, so I crawl into bed with my love unbelievably drained. We talk about mostly nothing before falling into tired but tender reconnecting parent sex, where we stay mostly dressed, just in case. I orgasm with him, as always, and am well sated.
2:13 p.m. Son is asleep. Girls are glued to Dora the Explorer. It’s been an endless stream of needs from them since I woke up. Fed up with everything, so I lock myself in the office with my small red rocket vibe. Time is short, so instead of a warm-up, I click it right up to full blast and orgasm in minutes. Tuck it into my partner’s sock drawer and am back in the kitchen before they notice I walked away. It’s my sanity break with myself.
11:45 p.m. Another bedtime battle. I could cry myself, but I don’t. The day has been delightful, but we’re beyond the beyond. Cuddled up, he makes a joke about eating a peach and I squirm all over the bed. It’s okay, we’re both too tired, but suddenly my vagina is throbbing need. After he falls asleep, I Kegel my way into a silent orgasm, simply to shut my brain off.
10:15 a.m. My partner can give me a kiss that makes my knees go out, years into our relationship and after children. Our kiss this morning was so powerful I grasped the arms of my computer chair to keep from tackling him. Maybe tonight. I’m still lingering after he’s gone off to work.
9 p.m. Not tonight. Make a joke in passing about “wanting that D,” and he looks at me exhausted and bewildered. Our sex drives match up, but as we both have chronic pain, I’m often ready when he isn’t. There is a second of disappointment, but I’d rather wait till we’re both feeling good.
1:20 a.m. Crawl into the bed I co-sleep our son in, manage not to wake him and find that I cannot sleep.
1:45 a.m. Sneak out of the bed and onto my couch. Hope that the sound of my vibrator doesn’t transfer through the wall to his room. Not that he’d mind, I just think it’s a little rude. Another quick and easy orgasm, this time running back over our evening with the Governess for fun.
4:35 a.m. Still can’t sleep. Contemplate another orgasm out of boredom.
5:30 a.m. Really don’t want to wake anyone in the back of the house, but I think vibrating my way into oblivion is my only hope for any sleep tonight. Wrap in a robe and creep to the couch in the living room. This time I take my time. Slow warm-up, going so far as to tease myself into a sudden climax while mentally reenacting the first time my partner and I slept together. Think I moan his name aloud.
10 a.m. I’m awake, dressed and moving but not ready for any of this. Set up arts and crafts for the girls outside. Watercolors, chalk, paper, and glitter. Tell them to have a blast decorating the deck in our backyard.
Noon The girls are still having fun decorating the outdoors; I’ve set myself up in the sun room with coffee and my iPad. Send a short message to my Ph.D. snuggle partner. She lives a thousand miles away and the moments I can steal to talk to her are few and far between. To be honest, she is my dream woman. Our conversations are as much of a turn-on as her exquisite physical beauty is. Taking a deep breath, I confess more of my feelings for her than I have previously. Her response is that she would like to see where this goes. I am on cloud nine. Three long months and I can taste her lips again.
3:30 p.m. Another message from my Ph.D. There are cartoon hearts floating over my head. I dance around the house giggling and finding stray dishes to be washed. Sally Field’s “You like me, right now, you like me!” is going through my head.
6:20 p.m. My partner comes home and I tackle him with the news that I confessed the entirety of my feelings for Ph.D. and that she’s onboard. He wraps me in a glorious hug and holds me there while I giggle. We kiss passionately until a voice breaks in that the eldest daughter wants juice.
8:50 a.m. The kids have broken my spirit. I’m done. This job sucksl I want to quit. I want to have my coffee before they bombard me with needs. There are tears.
10 a.m. Begin rambling at friends about how at the end of my rope I am. The Governess is coming for the weekend and I don’t even know where to begin with that. Adore her. Adore their relationship. Not looking forward to the parts of poly parenting that mean I sleep with our son. When she was last over, I had extreme love for the sweetness of them curled up together. Today the idea that I’ll be back in bed, alone as the Mom, makes me weep again.
2:30 p.m. Sweetly, they’ve offered to work out my going out on Mother’s Day, with or without the kids. My mind reels at the possibility. I’m not sure what I want. What do I want? Haven’t been alone out in the world without children in tow in over a year. Two, if you include pregnancy; my son was a kicker the entire time, so that counts for me. Honestly, I have no idea.
11 p.m. The Governess rolls in, smiles, and makes instant conversation. As soon as she is in the door, all of my stresses about the weekend slide away. The three of us sit up too late, laughing and talking Doctor Who. By the time we all snuggle into bed, we’re too tired to do much but laugh at the absurdity of life. Then, of course, as the possibility of something interesting happens, the monitor goes off and the son is awake.
2:05 a.m. I’m back up but they’ve fallen asleep. Could hear conversation and laughter through the wall after I left. I’m so glad they are enjoying each other’s company, but I’m also bitter I missed out because I am nursing this frantic child. Consider masturbation to sleep, but instead I slip out back to smoke and curl back in with the son. I’m counting the moments until he is in his own bed.
8:03 a.m. I am awoken to my son pulling my hair and biting my arm. Rage vibrates through me. All I want is sleep, child. All I want is one more hour. Lay on my side so he can nurse and feel him start to relax. I breathe easy for a moment. Begin to doze off.
8:20 a.m. The girls come bursting into my room at full blast and I bolt upright. There is instant chatter, instant demands. “Mommy, I want iPad time!” “No!! MY TURN!!” “Juice!” “We’re thirsty!” I’m up and out of bed, half naked, trying to usher them out before they wake the baby. Get one out, turn around, and the other has done a belly flop into my bed. The baby is crying. I find myself screaming an impressive collection of curses. My partner comes flying out to see what is wrong and finds me half sobbing and the children wild. I’ve yet to be fully awake, but I am so very done.
4 p.m. Things have calmed down immensely with the help of the Governess. After playing outside and one child going to their other parent’s house, the remaining children are asleep. The Governess and I curl up into a snuggle nap, but then the partner arrives and we make our own, very adult blanket fort. As she expertly touches me I moan to her how close I am. When she says, “Come, baby, come on,” I instantly, very intensely climax. So intensely that I wake the sleeping baby in the next room. Before the room stops spinning I’m finding my pants. Breathless and half falling, somehow I make it to the next room and am greeted by a very awake child. Not what I want to see.
4:20 p.m. All the rest of the children are awake and I am trying to keep the monsters entertained so my partner and the Governess can have time alone. My emotions are all over the map. This is the first time he has slept with someone, while I was around, where I was not involved. Sensing my emotional state, the kids are wilder than usual. I’m growing more overwhelmed.
4:25 p.m. They are barely audible from across the house, but I catch a moan here and there. I’m deeply jealous, but not in the way one would imagine. I’m pleased they are enjoying themselves. Their bubble of affection and intimacy is beautiful to behold. I’m deeply bitter though, furiously angry at Motherhood. Furious at being the Mom. I hurt and ache and want to sob at how unfair it is that as I am reclaiming my sexuality fully, I’m ripped away and forced to switch gears. Stuck between Mom and my throbbing libido.
4:30 p.m. Sweetly, my partner and the Governess both come to check on me and instantly pull me back into the intimacy bubble as we go about life. I try, with the limited words I have, to explain that I am not upset with them, but at Motherhood. Sadly, they aren’t in my shoes and don’t fully understand. Things are slightly off for the rest of the evening.
9 a.m. Our son has woken me up with bites and hair pulls again. It’s Mother’s Day and already I want to cry. My children are my world, but I refuse to lose all of myself to motherhood. Recently it feels like I am losing that battle and it is hard. My sex life is amazing, when I can actually experience it. Having sex fully naked — wouldn’t that be grand?
11 a.m. Everyone is awake and my daughter has returned from time with her father. I have a bouquet of flowers, an adorable card, breakfast of powdered doughnuts and coffee. The sweetness lifts my mood to the sky.
1:20 p.m. The Governess and I end up chatting in the sun room, finally covering some of those details that arise when a couple begins sleeping with someone new. While it had seemed that we were all on the same page, it’s good for her and I to talk it out. We’re good, and we want the same things. She’s more than I could ask for, and I’m discovering that I am very smitten with her as well.
5 p.m. After she and I go through my closet looking for things she might wear more than I do, the Governess is off to prepare for her week ahead. This time I get a longer, more lingering kiss from her that makes my toes curl.
8:43 p.m. Time to begin bedtime battle. I know I’m too tired for anything sexual to happen tonight. As soon as they pass out, I’m going to pass out as well. I must recharge a little before morning comes.
TOTALS: 1 act of intercourse; 1 act of manual stimulation; 4 acts of masturbation; 3 toe-curling kisses.