Stinky Sticky Love

It can be hard to feel sexy as new parents. Yesterday I was in my physical therapist’s office crying about not having had sex since our last appointment. Nothing to report on for improvements in pelvic floor rehabilitation. Even though it had only been a week, a week can feel like forever. It’s hard to get motivated to do pelvic floor rehabilitation when your PT is the only one down there. How do siblings ever even have a chance? Then add on a plantar fasciitis flare. Things can start to feel pretty dire. 

Enter the boot. Wearing a night splint is part of my plantar fasciitis treatment. Our bodies heal a lot at night and I want my foot to be in dorsiflexion during this time for optimal healing in a more lengthened position. This way I’m not reinjuring the fascia every morning immediately when I step down because the fascia has repaired too short. So it helps a ton. I am grateful towards my mother-in-law for having “this old thing” on hand from healing a fractured fibula or some such lower extremity bone part. However, “this old thing” splint is actually an inflation boot cast which is huge and plasticky and comes up to my knee. This really helps my foot pain if I wear it at night to sleep. But it really doesn’t help my sexy factor. 

This morning my husband renamed it the “sex boot”. Worn over the knee-high “sex sock”. He’s so kind. We had a big laugh. I came back to bed after Lake’s breakfast this morning still wearing one knee-high sock from the night before. After sleeping his typical nine hour night straight through, Lake woke ravenous as usual, breakfasted, then miraculously went right back to sleep for an early nap. My husband was still in bed so I rejoined him. Wearing the sock. 

One wonderful thing about making love as parents is a lot of the artifice falls away. What’s left then? Something fresh and real. Not waiting for the ideal moment. Stinky Sticky Love. Sometimes a sex sock. And it’s absolutely perfect. 


Like my husband, I’m a zealous remover of appliqués and tags. The seam ripper is my best friend. It gets a lot of work. More so since Lake joined the family. It seems clothes for new people are unduly heavy in the adornment category. I’m forever removing tags and patches and logos and cutsie things. For example, I found these Robeez leather shoes at a Wallingford consignment shop for a few bucks. They are nice as far as a flowered shoe goes, but they don’t suit Lake. He’s got a certain style. So the deconstructing ensues. Now they look simply like shoes. I guess that makes me a DIYer in reverse. 

Lake approves.