What will the New Year bring to you? Are you one of those people that make a laundry list of resolutions, in hopes of knocking at least one of them out of the ballpark? Don't lie! Weight loss, right? Travel? For me, my list of goals for 2018 was short. MORE SEX! Whatever! If you are a prude, you may have stumbled on your worst possible blog nightmare. I spent the better part of my 20's trying to devise a course of action to disguise my "course of action" so that my oldest root wouldn't suspect a thing. I must have done a pretty good job of "paying bills" because along came the middle root not long after my 1 year wedding anniversary. When I say that I didn't skip a beat when the middle arrived, I mean I literally DID NOT skip a beat, or an opportunity to seize the moment and burn up some sheets... Or the backseat of my husband's pick up, whatever the circumstances called for at the time. Again, it was clearly not an issue, until the tiny root arrived. The tiny root brought with her the temper of a redhead and a serious "fuck all" attitude to say the least. When I brought my beautiful little root home, I couldn't get enough of her. My life was literally complete. Until it wasn't. I have always been a fan of cosleeping with my littles. Addison was an only child of a single mom for many years before I was married and 11 years before a sibling. The evenings for us were our own little snuggle fest, and even when the middle arrived, we set aside one day of the week (Thursday to be exact) that the husband would ride the couch and we would snuggle. I LOVED it! When the tiny arrived, I wondered how the sleeping arrangement would work out. She didn't love to sleep in the crib, and at this point in life, I was older, wiser, and fucking TIRED as well. As I said before, I loved to cosleep, but for the entire course of my marriage, I had only ever had the one night a week that I shared our bed with our children. This minor detail would be overlooked in my decision to put the tiny root in bed with me, an oversight that I would soon regret once the warm snuggles wore off and my hot sex fizzled out. As I said before, the tiny root was 1 year old by the time I finally gave up and pulled the plug on the crib and opted for a cosleeping journey. What was once a bedroom with happy memories of marital bliss, quickly became sweet baby snuggles along with a Frankenstein set up where I pushed a twin size bed beside our queen size bed. Now here is the real shit show of it all. The husband slept in the twin bed while the baby snuggles happened in the queen bed. I didn't see it then, but I had literally ousted the man in my life and exiled him to a life of a teenage boy at best, forever to sleep in a twin bed. Some life. Well, at first it was okay. We made do, and the fact that we now had a sound sleeper held some weight at least, and we would often make the laundry room our best friend. Until the laundry piled up, which now was beginning to happen quite often with an extra child to clothe, let alone one that adores being dirty. By the time we reached the 6-month mark of cosleeping every night, things started to shift. The love was and is still very much alive, but the connection was wavering. Sex became a task, or at least the time and place was a task, and the fact that any part of something that amazing was a task just pissed me off. It is a well-known character trait of mine that anything that becomes a "task", I begin to eliminate it from my life. If I don't like something, I change it, and if I can't change it in a relatively quick fashion, I quit! That is exactly what I did once sex became a task. For the last year and a half, I have sat idly by while my intimate life went down the tubes and while we still made time for each other, it just wasn't the same. When we were together and sex wasn't even on the table, we were forever distracted by other things. We would start a movie with the intention to watch it together, but we never did. Our phones would come out and we would find ourselves more involved with what was going on with everyone else and ignore each other completely. How in the world did I get here? How can someone who is driven by the need to be connected with someone in every way slip so far into this black hole? It's called parenthood! With that being said, I knew that I was in need of a lifeline. I wasn't sure if I needed to send out an APB for my lost mojo or what needed to happen, but it was becoming a hard pill to swallow, to say the least. On the eve of the New Year, we spent the evening with friends. The entire house was buzzing with laughter, games, and children. It was literally magical. We played games and told stories all night, and it was definitely one for the books. All evening long I would glance over at my husband and I would get just as giddy as the day I met him. His smile, his laugh, and his god awful jokes that only he laughs at, but every time I felt that happy school girl attraction, it was quickly crushed by the reminder that even if I wanted to have a healthy dose of adult interaction, it was going to have to take place in the twin bed that was currently in her room where we hoped she would one day sleep (weird) or on the couch where we would most likely be caught with our pants down (literally) by our middle root who is a serious night owl. Needless to say, I drank the night away and instead of going to bed with my favorite crooked overbite with a banging ass beard, I went to bed with a champagne headache and a snoring toddler. FUCK MY LIFE! How can this be? I had already told the husband that whatever you do when you ring in the New Year was what you will do all year long, and now it was abundantly clear that I had plagued myself with 365 days of oreo balls and cheap champagne. Lucky for me I had 24 hours to make things right, and while I had PLENTY of plans for lying down, it would not be in defeat. I spent all day organizing toys and trying to turn what had become a playroom of sorts into what would soon be a bedroom. I texted friends for advice, I asked them to keep my sex life in their thoughts and to send some positive juju in my direction. I'm sure it's safe to say, they didn't want or need that mental picture, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I wasn't about to suffer alone. Lucky for me, my bestie has been with me through the whole cosleeping journey and had lots of advice. The last piece of advice to me was that "if she isn't ready, you won't be either". I let that roll around in my head for the rest of the day and into the evening. I was ready! Are you kidding me? Of course I was ready! I am ready, right? As bedtime approached, I hung out with the tiny root in her "big girl" room, on her "big girl" bed and read "big girl" books. When she started to get sleepy, I began to get nervous. Would I just rock her and lay her down or would she fall asleep in here? While I was pondering what my approach would be, my sweet tiny root looked up at me and said: "I sweep in my bed". I froze for a moment because it wasn't a question. It was a statement. She was telling me exactly what I needed to hear. The positive juju had actually reached me! She was ready, I was ready, and my marriage was SO ready. I turned out her lights and she drifted off to sleep. It wasn't going to be a night of wild sex for me, but what it is is a chance to start piecing things back together and rebuild a bond with my bearded fella that was lost in the shuffle a bit. As luck would have it, she was ready just in the nick of time. Today the Frankenstein bed was transformed back into our marital bed once again. For the first time in two years, I will snuggle with my husband tonight instead of a 3-year-old. I promise to not complain about him being on my side or wanting to kiss me first thing in the morning. I'll let him steal my pillow from time to time, and I'll even let him spoon me from time to time. Here's to new beginnings, new memories, rekindling flames, and burning them to the fucking ground! Live, Love, and Grow Roots.