Vacation Sex

I have been lucky enough to have been on vacation upstate for weeks on end. We were at a friends in Delhi for two weeks and before moving to our communal summer share compound in Roscoe with The Mommy Cult. Now we are 10 adults and 11 kids (including two babies) sharing 2 old farmhouses, 3 bathrooms, and one small private lake. There have been bonfires and s'mores, skinny dipping and hiking, t-ball on the lawn, and frogs and turtles and lizards and fish, blueberry picking and farmers markets and lots of grilled meat, mountain views and bouquets of wildflowers. It is idyllic, perfect, the kids are spending most of their days outside, swimming, building houses for ants and making up games. I drink good wine every night with some of my closest friends. We even had a kareoke party. But the best part for me has been the sex.

I have been having sex with my husband 4 or 5 times a week all summer long. The baby naps like clockwork, and our son is happy to watch a movie or read for half and hour or play with the other kids here at the "commune". It's mostly quickies, and we rarely have time to truly indulge each other, but it has just been amazing. I asked my partner if he thought we were having more sex because we were getting along better or whether we were getting along better because we were having more sex. He thinks the former, I think the latter. And who really cares, when I'm getting laid almost every day?

Granted it's not perfect- one day we snuck away but couldn't concentrate because who can have sex when all the kids are playing freeze tag just outside the window? Another day our son interrupted us and was about to interrupt us again when I shouted though the door: "My iPhone is on the counter in the kitchen, why don't you play Rolando for awhile?" I could hear him talking to his best friend as he walked away, "Did you hear that!? My mom just gave us iPhone time and we didn't even have to ask!"

But this summer is so sweet because we have had some rough times. Some really rough times. Months and months of no sex. A short respite and then another long dry spell. No connection.

Now I'm somehow transported to the summer we really fell in love, when Ken came to visit me from Australia and we had two perfect weeks of sex and museums and movies and concerts and dancing and sex every day. That was over ten years ago, but my desire for him is the same as it was then. I am so happy and contented, what with all that oxytocin from the breastfeeding and the orgasms.

I'm already dreading the fall: the long commute to my son's school with the baby in tow, Ken working long hours, me desperate to find time to myself to work.

I have no idea how I'm going to keep at least some of this sex happening.