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This week, a mother of two whose marriage requires a lot of lube: 45, Upper East Side, straight.
8 a.m. I get to sleep in today because my husband handles the kids on Sunday mornings. It’s really the only day he has any household responsibilities. Most of the week he works late and comes home after the kids are sleeping. My husband does well and provides for all of us, but still — it’s not always as easy as it looks.
11:30 a.m. We all go for brunch in the neighborhood. My kids are being wild so we eat fast and wrap it up. We have a cousin’s birthday party soon anyway.
2 p.m. We’re in Brooklyn for this birthday party. We took a car (from the Upper East Side) and even so, it took an hour. The party is great, though — Brooklyn parents are such amazing parents. It’s very different from my world, where people bring their nannies to birthday parties. These families would be turned off by that, I can tell. Everyone is much more down to earth here. I really appreciate how nice and normal it is.
5 p.m. We always order in Chinese food on Sunday nights. And we eat it while watching a family movie or rom-com. Tonight’s Along Came Polly.
9:30 p.m. My husband and I are getting ready for our weeks. He’s going through his schedule with his assistant on the phone, and I’m looking at school functions for the kids and staff issues — it sounds like rich people problems, but it’s hard managing everyone. Not “hard” as in real-life hard, but nevertheless, a pain in the ass that I don’t like deal with.
10:30 p.m. So here’s where things get interesting: My husband wants to have sex every night. He told me when we met — at a fundraiser at Chelsea Piers — ten years ago that he was very sexual and that he’d only marry someone who could keep up. Well, I’ve kept up.
6 a.m. I have the trainer come to our gym at six in the morning four days a week. It’s terrible. But I do it. I work out before our kids (8 and 6) wake up. I look good and can eat like a horse so it’s been good for me — and I’m 45. I won’t pretend it’s fun, though. My husband works out at a gym near his office. He said Ryan Reynolds is there sometimes. I’d like to see that!
9:30 a.m. I’m trying to start a cake business with my best friend so we’re at her house testing recipes and trying to get creative. Her husband is also wealthy and so we have good funding on our hands — the only problem is neither of us is particularly motivated. We just don’t have to be.
Before kids, I was in PR. I grew up middle class and my life now is kind of bananas, so I’m always trying to figure out how to be the real me and how to enjoy my privilege. My parents kind of primed me to succeed and “marry rich.” There was a major focus on education and all their money went to my college fund. When I went to Penn they were always like, “Meet a Wharton” guy! They weren’t social climbers; they just wanted me to have more than they did. Can’t pretend I struggle with it too much. My life is nice, and I know I’m very lucky.
2 p.m. I have therapy. I started therapy a few years ago when dealing with some postpartum stress and also because I thought my husband had an affair. I read an email on his phone that was suspicious but not incriminating and it kind of set me off into a really paranoid place. To this day, I still don’t know if he cheated (he swears he did not) but I also think, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. The email was flirtatious. He told a woman she was very attractive and that it was great to meet her at blah-blah-blah fancy restaurant, where he’d been at for a work dinner. She wrote back with the name of her hotel. After that, it appears he didn’t act on it. And he did come home to me that night at a relatively decent hour. But the truth is, I’ll never really know. Now I mostly discuss boring, mundane shit with my therapist.
6 p.m. The nanny made our favorite Thai soup for dinner and of course mac-and-cheese for the kids. She lives with us but somehow we’ve established a good balance — when I’m home, she does her own thing. I like to be hands-on when I’m with my kids.
8 p.m. My husband is at work so I put the kids to sleep and get into bed with a book.
9:30 p.m. My husband is home so I know we’ll have sex and then I’ll go to sleep.
We use a lot of lube in my marriage. It helps me keep up with this much sex. I can’t get wet and be horny all the time. But with the right lube, I do enjoy it. My husband loves doggy and so do I, especially when I have my vibrator out. Tonight I take it out. We have sex doggy-style with a little bit of lube and he holds the vibrator against my clit. We both come.
10:15 p.m. And yay, I can be asleep by 10:30.
10 a.m. Another cake-baking session with my girlfriend. I’m pretty sure her husband is actually cheating on her, but she’s in denial. There are a lot of affairs on the Upper East Side. Some women turn a blind eye pretty easily. Some women are the ones having the affairs. I’m not interested in an affair but I’d certainly be able to pull it off easily with my husband’s hours and lack of paranoia.
11:30 a.m. I try to get my friend to talk about her marriage and why her husband is always traveling “solo,” but she doesn’t want to go there. I can respect that. It’s not my business anyway.
4 p.m. My daughter has a school function and so I show up and mingle with the other moms. A lot of nannies wait in the back with the younger siblings. My nanny is home cleaning, which is what she does when my kids are at school.
I look around at these other mothers and they all seem pretty shallow and empty to me. I don’t want to be too harsh because I think most of them are good people deep down, but they really are living in a bubble, and no better off for it. I’m not trying to downplay the obvious benefits of having money but honestly, a lot of these women are not happy. Again, all the cheating. And the pressure to look a certain way. It kind of sucks. I’m in the vortex of all that myself but I think I’m slightly more self-aware.
9:30 p.m. My husband is home and it’s obvious he wants to have sex. I’m really tired tonight — I drank a little CBD tea and feel my bed calling my name. Tonight I just sort of go through the motions and fall asleep the second it’s over.
6 a.m. Trainer. She’s champ. She motivates me. She loves hearing about my husband’s sex drive …
9 a.m. The minute I drop my kid at school, I get a call that he’s throwing up. I go back to get him. Poor baby!
2 p.m. My kid has the stomach flu and now the nanny is puking, which means my whole house will get it next. Great. I call my husband at work to see how he’s feeling. He says he’s fine and that he has to go. Soon, as I predicted, I’m throwing up, and so is my daughter. It’s a literal shitshow in my house. On days like this it would be nice to have a husband who can run home and take care of us all, but my husband of course has too much work and then a work dinner. We are all sick as dogs.
8 p.m. No one is eating dinner in this house but I think the worst is over. We are all in our own beds and ready for rest.
9 p.m. My daughter pukes a few more times.
11:55 p.m. My husband comes home really late. It’s annoying. And neither of us want to have sex — I’m way too germy.
9 a.m. Kids are home from school, just in case. And we’re all having a PJs day. My husband is off to work.
1:30 p.m. Since everyone is napping, I decide to get out my vibrator. I love my new one — it gets me off in like 60 seconds. That’s kind of a problem actually, because I want to last longer. If I combine my vibrator with porn then forget it, I’ll last maybe 30 seconds. See, I still have the sex kitten in me, especially when it’s just me.
9 p.m. We had a super-comfy day at home and everyone feels okay now.
10 p.m. My husband is home and he bought me a feel-better present. Cashmere pajamas from my favorite store. They are luscious. I slip them on and then we have really good sex. Sometimes it’s great, like I said!
9 a.m. Coffee date with another mom friend. She is getting divorced. They both had affairs with people in the Hamptons. Honestly, some of these TV shows, like Succession, The Affair, they aren’t far from the reality of our lives. Anyway, she seems okay about her divorce. She’s getting the apartment and new boobs, fairly clichéd but real life in her case. I tell her that I’ve never thought about divorcing my husband. Even when I thought he cheated. I really love him and love our family and our life. I’d be devastated if it all fell apart, I really would.
12:30 p.m. Not going to lie: I have a Botox appointment.
3:30 p.m. Both kids are home from school so we decide to sample some of the cakes I’ve been baking with my friend (we froze some slices). My kids aren’t crazy about the cakes, probably because they’re low in sugar. But we have fun. I’d love for them to see me as an entrepreneur some day. I’d hate to hear them say, “My dad is successful and my mom doesn’t work.” That feels embarrassing.
7 p.m. Husband is home early so we order pizzas and open wine, and have a fun family night. We are trying to plan some summer vacations so we each present our dream trip and make arguments for why that’s the trip that should win. Mine is Sicily; my husband wants Ireland. My kids want Miami (in the summer??) and … brace yourself … the Hamptons. Shit, this is what happens when you send them to an UES private school.
9:30 p.m. Hubby and I get into bed, lube it up, and have sex.
10:30 a.m. We’re having friends over for brunch. My nanny gets the house together while I get the kids and myself together. The couple coming over is great, but they’re a little over the top. Very wealthy and a little obnoxious. They show up with their three kids and with two nannies. I knew they’d bring their nannies but it still feels awkward and unnecessary.
1:30 p.m. The Bloody Marys have gotten to me and I want the company to leave so I can take a long nap.
4:30 p.m. I wake up from my nap to a magically clean house and my kids at the park with the nanny. It feel amazing. My husband is on his computer working.
5 p.m. I decide to go shopping. I go to Barney’s and buy a few things. I see a few women I know. The empty, shallow types again. But hey, what does it say about me, since this is the circle I run in?
6:30 p.m. By the time I get home, dinner is on the table. It’s delicious and my kids are being adorable. It might sound silly, but I feel blessed … I really do.
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