"Hey, that's the mouth she kisses my kids goodnight with!"

 To paraphrase Paul Vitti from Analyze This; "I can't do those things with my wife! That's the mouth she kisses my kids goodnight with! What are you, crazy?!"

 And so, I have reached the sad, ugly point in my pregnancy where I am no longer considered a sex object....
Please don't misunderstand, my Man still calls me beautiful. He kisses my belly, holds me, gives me massages, and does other intimate things like that every day, but it seems that the nights of unbridled, primal, passionate awesomeness are well and truly on hiatus.

I understand the change of course, I am very pregnant now, and no well-placed corset is going to cover (let alone fit) this belly. Luke doesn't see me as a sex kitten at the moment. He sees me as beautiful. He sees the mother of his son. He sees something delicate, maternal and nurturing. Something soft and round.

And this is all lovely...But what about the frustrated deviant who is hiding inside this mummy suit?

To better explain what I'm feeling, I will leave it in the capable hands of Mr. Eddie Murphy;
"When you get in the bedroom, what would you rather hear you partner say? 'I wanna make love to you'
Or would you rather they grab you by the back of your neck and say, 'Imma fuck the shit outta you."

You'd think I would be prepared this time though, wouldn't you?
I mean, I have done this twice before, plus the amount of pain I'm racked with 99% of the time from my SPD is enough to turn anyone off.

...But what about that 1% of the time when I'm halfway functional? What about then?!
Surely we can pretend that I'm not a mummy-to-be for a few hours, and instead pretend I'm someone who just really loves cheeseburgers? Can't we? Can't we?!

It is during these moments that I find myself searching for the mirror. I'm not sure what this is meant to accomplish  - seeing myself trying to suck in my baby bump? Trying out various poses that could be interpreted as attractive? Or maybe I'm just trying to remind myself that under everything I'm still a sexual being?

Imagine my disappointment when I look into the glass and see this staring back at me -

Sweet merciful crap, when did I last shave my legs? ...Can I even reach my legs anymore?


It is upon this discovery that I resign myself to the fact that my Man and I will have to take a break from our normally over-zealous love life, and continue working on our snuggle and smooches routine instead.

So for now I wave goodbye to Naughty-Sex-Kitten-Tara, and welcome back the couch dwelling, constantly eating, rarely moving, tummy-rub-loving, Fat-Kitten-Tara.

 All in all, I guess she's not so bad....