Not our actual baby. Photo courtesy of photographya.info
I’ve got a very high sex drive. No one knows this better than Jill, who has frequently benefitted from my near-constant desire, short or nonexistent refractory period and ability to climax several times in an hour. Of course, this has been both a blessing and a curse. When we first met we discovered our intense sexual compatibility, and would spend entire weekends having sex without stopping beyond short breaks for sleep and food. However, we lived apart for almost three years of our relationship, including one year of our marriage. This was understandably very difficult for both of us, and as you would expect, masturbation became a way of life. Techology such as Skype provided us some intimacy and sexual release, but it was far from an ideal situation. At the time, Jill worked relatively long hours (for an elementary school teacher, anyway), and was pretty socially active. I, on the other hand, was self-employed (still am), living in a new area where I knew almost no one. I was frequently off work by 2 pm, home alone, and horny. Masturbating daily kept me satisfied, focused and, I suppose, faithful – though the thought of cheating on my girlfriend and then my wife never really crossed my mind.
Several years have passed, and I’m now a stay-at-home Dad. I sometimes refer to myself as a play-at-home Dad, but this isn’t partcularly accurate these days. Our daughter is just shy of twenty months, very active and extremely vocal. Jill and I consider ourselves fortunate to have a child who is healthy, and usually ridiculously happy. I enjoy spending every day with her, and Jill and I consider ourselves fortunate that we can afford to have one of us stay home with her as opposed to putting her in daycare. However, as she gets older and more active, I find that I need time for myself. Not just for masturbation, either; I’d love to have some quiet time in which to read, write (both my own current NaNoWriMo efforts, as well as entries for this blog), watch a movie, catch up on my TV viewing, play video games, tidy up the house, eat a meal in peace, sleep, and various other fun or necessary activities. But at this stage in her life she is more needy than she has ever been before, though probably not excessively so for a child of her age. She hates being penned up, and if I can leave her in her playpen for twenty minutes while I take a shower and get dressed and not find her tunnelling her way out with a spoon, I consider myself fortunate. While we’ve still got blue skies and sunshine, I take her to one of several parks in the neighborhood a couple times a week, and play with her in the backyard on days when we don’t go to the park.
Sure, she naps, especially after an hour or more spent laughing, running and playing on a warm day. But while an afternoon nap once meant two or two and a half straight hours of blissful, head-clearing silence for me, recently her sleep schedule is much more precarious. Her natural curiosity and boundary-pushing coupled with an innate resistance to sleep that she’s had all of her life means that trying to get her to nap is physically and emotionally exhausing, much like I imagine a hostage situation would be. When she does finally nap it’s a hopeless surrender akin to Robert E. Lee at Appomattox. She seems to sleep best on the sofa as opposed to her bed, and I am just gracious enough – some might say gutless enough – to leave her there rather than move her and risk waking her. Even if I leave her lying peacefully on the couch, there’s no guarantee that she’ll stay sleeping for long. All I can do is hope that she will, while trying to occupy my mind elsewhere.
Unfortunately, after spending the entire morning with my daughter, all I want to do while she sleeps is decompress. Transitioning from guy-without-kids to stay-at-home Dad has been such a shock, and remains so well into the second year, that I need literally all the time I can get in order to divest myself of the trappings that come with raising a baby: Poopy diapers, electronic toys that spontaneously make annoying sounds, insipid storybooks and inane theme songs, and worst of all, Dora the Explorer. If Hell exists, there is a special place there for whichever vile fiend created this program. I love my child with such white-hot intensity that it would make the sun look like a black hole by comparison, but I’m just going to say it: She’s a huge turn-off to always have around. Anyone who’s webcammed with Jill and I in the last year or so will certainly attest to this. Nothing is less sexy than the adorable voice of a baby who is just becoming confident with her vocabulary. And while I’m proud if her, it sucks because, since resuming our blog this past summer I constantly have my hands full with various sexy interactions: Chatting, camming, emailing, blogging, HNT, sexy Tweets. On Twitter today, someone called me a stud. And while I am one, I can’t remember the last time someone called me that. I have much to arouse me, and yet I can do little about it.
Our daughter can be self-reliant, when she wants to be. However, when I need her to be – when juice has been spilled on the carpet and needs immediate cleanup, when I have an urgent business call that I need to make, when someone emails or texts me a photo that makes the blood drain from my brain at the speed of light – she is underfoot and very clingy. Sometimes I wish I could sit her down with books and toys for half an hour without worrying that she’ll come knocking at the bedroom door just as I’m about to get off. There are no earplugs or noise-cancelling headphones that will keep my child’s voice out of my head. I wish I could tell her to sit down on the couch, watch television, and no matter what disturbing sounds she hears coming from Mommy and Daddy’s bedroom, do not get up from her seat. Perhaps when she’s older.
I never thought I’d want a little extra time to masturbate. I never thought I’d need it. Prior to becoming a parent I’ve always managed to find the time to do it when I was in the mood. Sometimes I did it when I was bored, as I sometimes was, living alone. But my life is such that I’m never bored, and although I’m still very frequently in the mood and realize that a quick orgasm would help me focus and, hopefully, be a better Dad, most of the time I force myself to squelch the urge. I don’t think I ever squelched the urge to masturbate prior to having a baby, and there were many occasions when I probably should have. I really shouldn’t complain; Jill is as randy as ever, and though I can’t take care of my sexual needs as often as I’d like to, she never hesitates.
-Jack
Oh I hear you loud and clear. My only benefit to being home all day is all of mine are in school and the oldest is moved out. I have a high sex drive as well. GEtting my hubby on board for that has proven near impossible.. He likes sex don’t get me wrong, just umm stamina.. I could masturbate a dozen times a day..
I’m with you there. Any weekend day is great with the little guy, until he insist on watching Elmo nonstop and wanting attention. I love it, but I’m with you about a few minutes for masturbation.
Oh I am so glad that my two oldest are grown and moved out, but my 18yr old is home. He can be here during the noon hour when sometimes the urge hits me when I wanna watch a few porn vids, and take care of that urge and go about my day, but he is usually in my office bugging me! ARGH! What gets me is then he goes to HIS room, kicks the dog out & locks his door..Gee, I wonder WHAT he IS doing!!!
I can’t really relate, I don’t have children. But I feel for you. I have plenty of friends with kids. Some of the kids I’ve known since they were hours old and they are now teens.
It’s okay to call your child a cock-blocker…LOL. Your feelings are real and human. The amount of time, responsibility, and blood-sucking (just kidding…kinda) that children take is exactly why I decided as a teenager that I never wanted to have children. I love ’em but they are 24/7 work. You can’t just have ’em and expect them to raise themselves. I didn’t want that AWESOME responsibility.
Kudos to you Jack. You’ll get your mojo back. Though I don’t think you’ve lost it, it’s just feeling a little neglected and playing hard to get 😉
Peace,
-H
I am firmly convinced that having something to do (anything really, but the more important the better lol) is like sending a signal to all children within fifty yards–now is the time to scream and cry and climb me like a tree.
When you are done with whatever it was you were doing, they are more than happy to exert their independence and wander off.
It must be written in some secret “child’s manual.”
First off, kudos to you for making the decision to stay at home to raise your child. Second, while I don’t have kids, I actually manage about 90 of them (full grown adults mind you where I work…Having a high sex drive myself…I find that the comforts of a public restroom come in handy. So, lock yourself in the bathroom with the thought of Jill in your head…and go to town!
I don’t have kids (A), but my work is kids. I can get the need to decompress… I don’t think I could have my own and do my job as there would be no break.