Reality has a few setbacks for the word sexy.

After three kids the words “sexy” and “date” take on a whole new meaning. Sure, we are still super hot for each other, and day dream about the days where our only agenda was to make out… but . Let me give you a few examples.

Tonight we hired our wonderful Nanny for our date night. Our date night turned into us actually staying home and getting caught up on household chores while the sitter watched the kids.

The date was so steamy hot that my steam mop found it’s way underneath my daughters bed , only to discover an old pee filled diaper. As I was disposing of said diaper, I had inappropriate for this blog thoughts of my husband who was blowing the millions of leaves we have in the yard.

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Here we are on a real date. With an open bar. Mommy Likey.

:: If he would have found this diaper he would be way more disgusted than me. This is nothing for me. Once I found maggots in my kitchen aid for no apparent reason. This would horrify him. He would want to know how long it’s been underneath her bed. Me. I don’t care. ( shifts head towards the window to see spouse ) . Man, he looks hot blowing those leaves. I wonder if I can get him to take all the kids to school tomorrow so I can sleep in.::

We pass each other in the downstairs hallway as I slap his butt. Our eyes meet and I know that look. That look of longing. He is hungry. I never made dinner.

While the sitter is entertaining the offspring, I start to clean the upstairs shower. The scent of his deodorant fills the air as I pick up a chunk off the floor.

::The toddler has been in here. Man he smells good. Like all the time. He never sweats like a gross guy. But I do. I sweat way too much. Maybe I should get that checked. I’m cleaning this nasty shower because of me. I’m the gross one. He’s so nice and soft. He smells like a woman. I never smell like a woman. I should be on a date right now, but I’m bent over inhaling bleach. I bet if he walked in on me right now he would be totally turned on. Only if he can’t smell me first. When is the last time I showered effectively with no kid at my feet asking for food? Who knows. ::

I notice him on the tractor doing man things while I’m laying gluten free chicken nuggets on my Pampered Chef baking stone.

:: Gosh he looks like a farmer. I would love it if he was a full time Farmer. We live in Farmer. Wouldn’t that be so funny? Oh gosh, did I brush Adah’s teeth this morning? I think I did. If I add apple slices to this dinner I will feel better about the nutritional value. Oh hell, my kids won’t eat them twice in a row in one day. I could add carrots. BAHAHAHAHAH. ::

The date ended just as if we would have gone out. We got the kids all snuggled up in bed and things got really heated romantically.

:: I really need to start on that laundry that I’ve pretended was dirty for three days straight. I’ve been wearing the same yoga pants for 17 days. I wonder if Matt has noticed that? Probably not. He’s been too busy wondering when I was going to clean up from the girls birthday party on Saturday. I like to keep him on his toes around here. Toes. Toes. I need to sign Rhema up for dance class before it’s too late and she wants to play softball. I can’t teach her that. I just paid the sitter and now things are supposed to get sexy when she leaves, but I’m stuck with all this laundry to fold and I smell way too bad to have the confidence for you know what. Just forget it, maybe tomorrow night.::

Date nights at home are perfect for birth control. You and the hubs get things cleaned up, and you get to bed early. Trust me, you’ll wake up well rested and totally hot for each other.

Taking you home from the hospital, clueless and ready to love you.

This is where dates got REAL different. First baby. First of REAL different dates. Hot ones. Can I please comment on how hot my husband is, and how very puffy my post birth face is? Ok, gotta go. 

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