Beta Mummy’s Drawer of Sexy

Anna Vaught - 9 May 16

I did a quick bit of research just for you. I asked SOME MUMMIES impertinent questions about sex and discovered that:

*Some have a ‘sex night’ once a week. But this may be theoretical because they discover, once they’ve put it on their to-do list, that the frisson has rather disappeared. It has been placed between ‘order name labels’ and ‘voluntary contribution for school trip’. Or they discover that it has slipped off the list altogether because they listed it under ‘Monday’ and then shifted it to ‘Thursday’ and then it dropped off the list altogether and now they haven’t actually had it off for about five years.

*Some folk keep a top drawer which is full of gadgetry some of which requires batteries; other items may be silken or take the form of a saucy catalogue which may or may not have been looked at.

*In my indelicate canvassing, no-one had visited a sex shop other than to laugh.

*Some couples choose underwear together. This one made me laugh because there is no way that I am EVER letting my husband choose my pants. I am aware that some folk feel under compulsion to match their underwear. What level of frippery is this, or am I just the slummiest mummy in the world?

*Some mummies maintain an elaborate schedule of grooming. I was told by one that it was abhorrent not to do so and that without the Brazilian (or whatever is en vogue at the moment) you had to wear pants as big as a sail. The mummies who were hardcore against this sort of thing scoffed at the grooming mummies.

AND.

*Lots of mummies enjoyed talking about sex, especially the comedy inherent in fantasy. I think it’s a healthy and  welcome antidote to all this sensible parenting malarkey. Which leads me to my own Beta Mummy Drawer of Sexy. Well, it’s not totally a drawer. It’s more a sort of cardboard box in my head marked, ‘Pull this one out if you’re feeling a bit bored on the bus or need diversion while in a particularly boring meeting or thinking ‘KILL ME NOW’ when watching the ugly sport of competitive parenting. Or talking to the Headmaster and he’s going on a bit. Here’s some of what’s in the box. Just a tiny bit, because over-sharing is icky. These little dreams can be extended into a pleasant daytime diversion (as above). For example:

1. Russell Crowe. Varied; good working hands; can do sensitive portrayal of mental illness; looks like he’s just been in a fight which, weirdly, I always find appealing. We wrestle mostly, then he cries, then we talk about poetry and then tear meat apart and we do not use cutlery. Total fuck against the wall stuff, but with delicate elements.
2. Alan Titchmarsh. For years, I had a recurring dream about him. I didn’t invite this; he sort of appeared. We go for walks and look at annuals and wildflower meadows and sympathetic planting and the like. But he turns out to be a real sexual athlete, too. I know. It’s surprising, isn’t it?
3. Sean Bean. To qualify. ONLY as Mellors (in Lady Chatterley’s Lover) and with a shed. In a sort of, ‘Come into t’ potting shed, Constance’ sort of way. Obviously it’s all a bit rough and animal. And then we stack logs, because practicality of this kind is always sexy.

My point, I suppose, is this. You are still you, discrete from your kids. You are still your sexuality, sensuality and identity (whatever you identify as – I mean in LGTB* terms). It may change and that isn’t wrong and you shouldn’t give a toss if anyone else thinks you’re weird because you have recurrent dreams about Alan Titchmarsh. I say, give yourself a little time not to be swamped by the 27,000 letters you received this week from primary school and PTA and (in my case) two from secondary announcing a detention and a chat about attendance levels. Ditch the odd chore; don’t over-groom: don’t compare with other mothers who apparently have better tits than you. BECAUSE look at you – you are JUST PERFECT already. How about you go and get rid of the extensive to-do lists because they can stress you out (I started having sub-list and keys and realised I was on a slippery slope) and establish your own drawer of sexy today? Whether it be above your socks or in your head. Just a thought. x

Anna Vaught

I am a mum of three boys, 6,13 and 15, a sceondary English teacher, tutor, campaigner, freelance writer, poet, editor and novelist. My first novel, Killing Hapless Ally, came out last year. It's a semi autobiographical black comedy about mental illness. My second, The Life of Almost, a novella, is out in October 2018, with my third novel out on submission at the moment. I'm writing my fourth, editing a couple of anthologies, reviewing books, and drafting an irreverent non-fiction book on parenting. I have much to say on (mental) health and happiness and lowering your standards. Anna x

View profile for posts, events and more info