Friday, April 15, 2011

Queenpin is Buying a Spiked Suit

Would it be wrong for a Queenpin to buy a spiked suit? I mean I know a Queenpin can do as she pleases, however DSS may have some concerns. Department of Social Services, you ask, what does that have to do with sex? Get your minds out of the gutter. Queenpin needs space. During the day I teach 6, 7 and 8 year olds. Joyous, hilarious, fabulous kids, but they are touchy, squeezy, and huggy. Not to mention the rest of the little huggy, cuddly beasties on the campus of my school.

Then I have my own beasties who sprang from my womb, one of which would happily crawl back in. Those two think they own this bod. There is not an inch of my body that is off limits to my little ones, no matter the boundries I set. Last week I actually said to my 8 year old son, "I wish their was another way you could express your love for me other than smacking my butt." Sheesh.

My little girl, she is a snuggler, a cuddler, a hostage holder. I know I should not wish this away. My son weighs almost 75 lbs, which means my days of picking him up and carrying him around are over, for the most part. He still likes to try. Some days my body just craves independence from wanting hands, feet, mouths, tongues, and bodies wanting to be held. I wouldn't wear my fancy spiked suit all the time. Just in my kitchen when I'm cooking or when I'm hanging out with my neighbors. Maybe just an hour a day. Maybe until they're 18.

Not really until they're 18, because then there are those times when my body is wanting theirs. When I have to touch their hair or pick up my girl just to feel her little butt in my hands, her weight on my hip, little legs wrapped around my back. There are actually times that I can't wait to touch my lips to their sweet soft necks or feel the pointed angles of my boy digging into my flesh. There are also times that I need to be hugged at hip height, or have a small hand in mine. I need to touch those beasties too.

I guess me and the beasties have what Don Corleone would call an arrangement, which always involves compromise. Everyone gives a little bit and everyone loses a little. Just in case, though, I have seen a spiked suit and I'm putting it on hold for Mother's Day.

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