Fuck Yeah, Motherhood!

Parenting. With Cursing
Reality Bites

Dancing With Myself

October 9, 2017

You can only know me for ten minutes before I mention my period, and an hour before I broach masturbation. I cant judge your FQ (Friendship Quotient) properly without seeing your face when I say I ruined my favorite pants accidentally reenacting the prom scene from Carrie today or Last night I spent so much time watching threesome porn online that I think my keyboard might be pregnant!

Thats why when I tweeted about masturbation (both here and here) to the sound of absolute crickets, I was confused. I follow some kick ass chicks on twitter, was it really possible that none of them wanted to talk about buttering the muffin?

Anyway, the whole thing really got me thinking about moms and solo sex. I mean, we are obviously sexual creatures, right? Somewhere along the way, each mom decided to get down with the get down and then, nine or so months later, got so far down that a baby popped out. Yet, it seems taboo to talk about motherhood and sexuality together. Especially the kind of sexuality that requires batteries and lube. Well, goodness knows, I am shit with taboos so, here it is. I masturbate.

The first time I pleasured myself, it happened completely subconsciously. I was eleven years old and babysitting my four younger children while their parents went out for the night. After I put the kids to bed, I was flipping through the channels when, suddenly, BOOBS! I had stumbled upon what I thought was hardcore pornography (what did I know?) but was probably closer to softcore Skinemax. No naked bottoms but plenty of breasts and humping motions. Somehow, sort of automatically, my hand found my way down to my girlyparts and my fate was sealed.

After that, I was a regular Jack Off Jill. Mostly in the shower (multitasking before the term even existed!), sometimes in bed. I never felt weird or ashamed, I assumed that everybody was doing it and just not talking about it. Like pooping. I slept better and was generally happier. As far as I was concerned, masturbation was like vitamins without the smelly pee.

I feel the same way about she bopping now. I really don’t see what the big deal is. Nearly everyone does it at least occasionally and the ones who abstain don’t strike me as morally superior (how in the world is masturbation a moral issue? why does Jesus care if I rock my own casbah?), so much as unfortunate.

So why, then, aren’t moms talking about romancing our own stones? Think of the sexual revolution that could be initiated if we went to playgroups and recommended our favorite pornos and vibrators to each other. If I can bare my breast and feed my child in front of you, I can sure as heck discuss where to find the best free dirty movies on the internet and the advantages of batteries vs electricity.

So, if we happen to meet on the street someday, or our kids end up in the same class, or, god forbid, you are stuck sitting next to me at some gathering of internet personalities, know that odds are you are going to hear about my vagina and its amazing adventures. Its just my way of giving you the thumbs-up and inviting you to let go, let god, and, for Sprinkles sake, talk about it.

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