Two weeks, no posts. One of my twins, while jumping at school, landed on the wrong side and twisted his ankle. “Not a big deal,” you may say if you never suffered the aches of a luxated foot, or if you’ve never been a mother. You can imagine that I had no time, no call and no desire to write new blogs about sex ever since.
The mother in me gathers up worries upon worries, concerns and fears. He needs all the rest he can get, not using the leg so that tendons and ligaments may heal. Starting the fourth day of this ordeal, I persuaded the doc to let me remove the plaster and apply cold compresses with Swedish Bitter, the original nine herbs recipe from Maria Treben. He feels much better and makes progresses. I have to keep him in bed when he feels brave enough to wander downstairs all by himself. It’s great to see that he finds the force and the courage to exercise, but it’s dangerous at the same time. He cannot rely with the entire weight on this leg, even if he wants to. However, he is supposed to start walking and moderately flex the leg.
As you see, I’m “totally” devoted to the “other man” in my life. But don’t freak out: reasoning and relaxing are both an excellent counselor and an extraordinary comforter. This is what my “first man” provides in tolerable doses, so that I would keep at bay the “resolute mothering drive” in me. He listens to my ravings and even finds the right words to spell out the works of healing for our little one. After all, we dealt with similar situations years ago, when our second adult kid flexed her ankle more than once…
Twice a week, on demand as he says, he thoughtfully resets my hormones. As about cuddling, he lovely caresses me with every approach, especially in times of great concern for me, like now. A soft kiss, a ten seconds round of waltzing in the kitchen, a hug ending with the regular slap on the butt (which I don’t like as much as he does). In exchange for his warm understanding and fondness, I tend to forget, ignore and indulge more when censoring the graphical material that he craves to publish. It’s a man’s madness, to which I give up, at least for the time being.
If you’re a man, enjoy the not-so-subtle nude photos he will attach to this post and in the “cougar” galleries. Not sure if I was ready for this move, but I ceded yet another taboo territory (a worry less).
If you’re a woman, think it over and give your man a break from time to time, especially when his “I love YOU” statement heads the deep down awkward-in-between direction. He isn’t perfect. Nobody is.
Okay, I wrote my blog, checked! Now back upstairs to see how the young man is recovering…