Five sexy things about me, a meme

The incomparable Kyra over at Last Refuge of the Lonely Housewife has tagged me for a meme. Good timing darlin', it's about time I did a little gratitude attagirl inventory.

Five Sexy Things About Me

1. I feel sexy deep down in my feminine heart The sexiest thing about me is I embrace my feminine heart and believe deep down that it is not a sin to be human sexual being. I'd even go so far as to say my feminine sexual heart is a very good thing. What does my feminine heart look like? My feminine heart knows I am strong yet content to rest in the strength of a man. I am very comfortable letting a man be good at what he does, offer his unique talents, and be himself without my trying to compete with him. I am very secure in my strength and I know that my feminine strength looks and acts and smells and tastes very different than masculine strength. Because I know that I am just as strong but in a different way than a man is strong, I can delight in and savor how delightfully other, delightfully different his masculine strength is from mine. My feminine strength has displayed itself when my man's heart was beat up by the world and I seduced him, drew him in to my softness, affirmed him, loved him reminded him who he was and who his God was. When I was done with him, he didn't know what hit him! But he knew it was very good and sweet and nourishing! Hah! (twinkly eyed victorious smile). Strong, nurturing, seductive, beautiful, and good. That's my heart.
   ~
   
2. My breasts
   I like my body. I have a lot of gratitude for the figure that God and my mama conspired to give me. And yes, they're real. I enjoy my feminine shape, and I have found a happy medium that works for me. I don't hide in my clothes nor are my outfits rock star tight. I have been known to display some festive holiday cleavage at a company Christmas party. If you handle them right (smiling biting lower lip) breasts can give a husband and wife a great deal of pleasure. How do I know? I just know. A word about breasts, take care of them. My mama is a breast cancer survivor and she is alive today because she was and is very proactive about her health. Girls, take care of your girls. I am so proud of the example my mama gave me about embracing and owning your sexuality and making self care a priority when she went through several reconstructive surgeries to restore her feminine shape after cancer. She's as gorgeous as ever and in her own strong way she taught me that life with breasts was preferred to life without breasts. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to cancer, surviving is the priority. But since liking your body is #2 on this list, I believe feeling sexy in your own skin and liking your body is very important. I like the way my breasts look and feel, and I enjoy being a woman. I think the fact that my breasts can look good, feel good and at one time also nourished a child is sexy as allgetout.
   ~
3. My eyes
   Eye contact is one of the sexiest things God ever made, in my humble opinion. Eyes open orgasms are also not to be missed. If you wanna know what I'm talking about, read Passionate Marriage. Being wrapped in an intimate embrace with the sweet light shining in your eyes is one of life's sweetest moments. Sweetness, seduction, joy, sorrow, compassion, eroticism, delight are all there in my eyes on any given day. Sexy? (nodding thoughtfully) Yeah, I think so.
   ~
4. My hands
   I am such a girly-girl and it really shows in my hands. I get my nails done at the salon and the fresh, girly look of a French manicure makes me look and feel very sexy. I also, well, I, that is to say, er, um....my hands are very talented. (cough) (grin) (blush)
   Aaand in other ways. (grin) By cooking a beautiful meal, holding the hand of someone I love, or writing this article, my hands express my sexy feminine spirit to my world.
   ~
5. My generous heart
   I know there are two heart ones on the list, but there are two aspects of the heart that I want to highlight. Whether in the bedroom or the boardroom, in the kitchen or in the living room, I believe generosity is the way to go. It's just my nature to be generous. I don't know how else to describe it except to say there is much pleasure to be found in offering yourself with generosity.
   

Okay darlings. That was time well spent. The last few months have been quite a strain on me and it was important that I remember and affirm some good things about myself. Thank you for indulging me, dear readers, and thank you for affirming me by inviting me, beloved Kyra.

To whom should I pay it forward?
Cori, at My Heart His Heart
Alise, at Big Mama's Blog
Gemma, at Passion Within Marriage
Memes are fun because they help create a sense of community, so let the good folks who read your post know who tagged you for this meme by posting a link and please post a comment here when your post it up. Y'all enjoy!

Love Per Square Inch

There's less of me to love!
In the last 8 days, I have lost 5 1/2 inches.
WooHoo!
Of all the times in my life where no one would hold it against me to hit the chocolate or indulge in some way, I'm not doing it. I'm not emotional eating. I'm just eating healthy food whenever I do eat and walking or going to the gym.
So I have this theory.
If there is less of me to love, then the same amount of love is divided by less square inches, which means the love per square inch ratio is higher.
(twinkly eyed smile)
Okay.
That's as much math as you'll hear on this blog.
Love y'all,
Shula

Comparison Trap

Something I've learned recently is that comparing myself with another woman or worse yet someone else comparing me to another woman is a shortcut ticket to misery. I want to share some thoughts that have helped me find my way out of the comparison trap.

I must live in the light of God's sovereignty.
Trusting His good heart toward me.
Trusting God did a good job when he made me.
Trusting God and I and I together are doing a good job of continuing to make me.
I must accept God's grace toward me as sufficient,
and not fall into either ditch of pride or envy.
Pride says I'm better than someone else.
Envy says I think someone else's possessions or traits or qualities are better than mine and I therefore find my own possessions or traits or qualities not good enough, less-than, unsatisfactory.
God created me.
God did a great job and took great joy in making me.
And I can take great joy in making me too, because I am made by, shaped by, changed by the choices that I make day after day after day.
Making the choice to grow and change is a good thing.
But healthy change MUST be secondary to the foundation of truth that says:
God is sovereign, God is good, God is loving, and this good God shaped me with tender care.
It is in this warm solid foundation, that change is good and welcomed for I know I was delightful already before the change.

And being humble and vulnerable and tender and strong,
giving God plenty of elbow room to work,
that can only yield good things.

Feeling this, knowing this , believing this
feels
SO VERY GOOD.

and I'm delighted to share it with you.

With love,
Shula

PS Thinking about God creating me led me to this video of creation. I belong smack-dab amongst all this other created beauty cause the very same artist made me. Ooooh! Love that!

Sensuous Wife Shrinks

Well darlings I have decided to screw up my courage and really go for it.
God has given me so much healing in my marriage and sexuality and emotional and physical health, I've decided to be brave and dare to hope Himself will also bring healing to my weight. It's an interesting place to be. I feel gorgeous and sexy now. I don't feel unpretty or unsexy. But my doctor, Beloved Endocrinologist, really wants me to lose weight. Since I'm being treated for a metabolic disorder, the Atkins low carb way is the best match for me.

I feel so nervous!!

I have lost weight before eating the Atkins way, and I did very well. The problem is not the eating plan. The problem is emotional eating. I have lost 15 pounds, gotten some momentum, and then hit an emotional wall and gained 5 pounds back. I'm still at net loss of 10 which is good. And I want more.

I feel like this is the last battle for my heart. The last place in my life that needs to be healed. It's not that I want to look like anyone else. I am so tired feeling victory failure and frustration in this area of my life. I want to conquer this area of my life. I want to be the curvy, athletic girl I used to be.

On the fun side, Delighted Husband and I have looked at each other with a gleam in our eye thinking about some of the hot stuff we could do if I were smaller and more flexible and had more, er, stamina. (blush) (grin) In the few months I have been working out at the gym, I have been amazed at how much faster and easier I can orgasm. Lord only knows what else might be in store for Delighted Husband and me! I intend to find out.

So, does this sound like a good goal? Is this something y'all think you could support?

Love,
Shula

The Sexually Confident Wife

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the drawings in Shannon Ethridge's book spoke volumes. Joy! Delight! Smiles! Confidence! and Creativity! come in all sizes, races and positions. That's what these pictures said to me, along with a reallllly great position to try in the shower. ;)

I've got a bookshelf full of books that taught me sexual positions and techniques, and I'm grateful for every one. But as I mentioned on the phone during a girlfriend-to-girlfriend talk, nothing has a greater impact on a woman's sexual experience than how she feels about herself when she walks in the bedroom. Shannon understands this very well, and her book The Sexually Confident Wife has lots of relevant encouraging things to say to women like us who could use a dose of sexual confidence. True confidence is found in embracing our sexuality as a gift from God.

She's very frank in this book, and I loved it. During the two days I took to read it, I alternately laughed, slapped my palm on my desk saying "you go girl!" or dabbed a few tears as she shared from her heart about her body image issues.

Shannon's been there, and she's got a lot of practical encouragement for wives who want to feel more confidence, more orgasms, and a stronger more beautiful bond with their husband. I've tasted the joy of being a sexually confident wife, and I want more. Her book is still on my nightstand and it will be featured in the store.
Read on, darlings, and become the sex goddesses you were meant to be.

Love,
SW

My first SexyMamaMoment

When our first child was born, he spent the first few days of his life in the neonatal intensive care unit at the hospital. Delighted Husband and I were there with him nearly all the time. This was before my awakening so sexy wasn't usually on my radar. I had not yet cultivated my worldview that I was a sexy woman. But I had this moment. And I want to share it with you.

Beloved Child was a bit premature, and fussy, so the pediatrician suggested I open my blouse and give my baby skin-to-skin contact. They had these beautiful pale yellow privacy shades they placed around my rocking chair. Feeling a little awkward but hungry to hold my baby and let him know mama was there, I unbuttoned my maternity blouse, unwrapped my little darling (he looked like a little burrito in that white hospital blanket!) and laid my sweet baby against my abdomen and covered us both with a blanket. He was jaundiced, so he looked so foreign next to my skin. But in his face he looked just like me and in my heart he felt like mine! mine! mine! It was a peaceful, quiet moment amidst all the beeping chaos of the NICU.

Then I looked at his father.

Delighted Husband was looking at me and Beloved Baby like we were all that was precious in the world. And then I caught it..that quick tiny sparkle in his eye. Just like that, I was lost in the tractor beam of Delighted Husband's gaze. Without words, we remembered what we did to create this child. A blush crept over my cheeks and I looked at Delighted Husband with this self-aware heat in my eyes. My eyes said, "We made love. It was fabulous. You made me pregnant, and now I have this amazing little person nestled up against my skin. Oh my God."

In that moment, Delighted Husband snapped a picture.

And in an instant, the moment was over. The nurse walked up to draw blood from Beloved Child and crying and chaos pushed in and drowned out the moment.

Weeks later, I went to the store where I had gone for the film to be developed. When I got to that SexyMamaMoment photo, I was elated. Standing there in the pharmacy all disheveled and sleep deprived, I looked at that photo and thought, "oh my God, is that really me?" and it was. I didn't feel sexy there in the store. At all. At all. At all. But in my trembling hands I held photographic proof that my moment had really happened.

I put it in the photo album, along with all the other photos of Beloved Child's first six weeks. When friends from church asked to see baby pictures, I didn't think twice about handing over the photo album while I went to go boil some water for tea. I don't remember what he said, but I remember one of our church friends coughing and looking at me in an embarrassed putdown way and swiftly handing off the baby album like it was contaminated. I was flooded with embarrassment. I didn't have much confidence then. And I was Southern and here was a guest in my home offended by something I had given him. I was seriously infected with the disease to please. When our friends went home that night, I took out the picture of my first SexyMamaMoment, and I tore it up. To this day, there is a blank spot in that baby photo album. And oh I would fill it if I could. I have searched for the negative and I cannot find it. I have tears in my eyes just remembering what has been lost. How I would love to see that picture today!

There's a lesson here, my darlings. Don't let anyone look down on you for owning and recognizing that you are a sexual being. Don't let others erase your beautiful defining moment or put down your identity as a beautiful sexual creature created by God. Hold on to the good in your life. Hold on tight! Stretch marks and mortgages and fatigue and soccer leagues and teacher meetings and client meetings and HOA meetings will try to push in and take those moments from you by encroaching on the time those moments can occur. But hold on tight!

Looking back, I realize that man was an illmannered prude and I was a naive woman who gave away her validation card quite too easily. Not any more.

Like most of my aha! heartfelt moments, this was inspired by another blogger who generously shared their heart in a post. So thank you Mama of Romance for your beautiful post Feeling Beautiful: It's Up to You.
She says, "Because I feel like I am beautiful, it shines through.
It's so much easier to enjoy sex, to be passionate, and to love making love when you feel beautiful.
Being a woman is an incredibly powerful thing.
The curves, the soft skin, the feminine features.
Giving birth, having a baby, motherhood - it's all a beautiful thing.
Mother's are beautiful."

Amen, sista!

I would add: when you do have a moment when you feel beautiful, don't let anybody talk you out of it. Nobody but you and God have the right to decide whether or not you're beautiful. And God has already voted Yes.

Love,
SW

Failure is Impossible

What would you have the courage to attempt if you knew failure was impossible?

Think about that for a minute.

Let that sink in.

Girls, I'll give you an easy start.
Dance for your husband.
And I'm not talkin' Tinkerbell dance recital dance either.

Seriously.

You may find this one of the most liberating and exhilerating experiences of your married life.

You can use your own creativity to come up with your own signature performance. Here's an idea for starters.

Take one of your older pair of jeans that you don't mind taking out of public circulation. If you think they are too tight, all the better. You want jeans that really hug your fanny but are not so tight as to be uncomfortable. You can even go to a resale shop and get the perfect pair for under ten bucks if the right pair of jeans is not currently in your closet.

Put them on.
In private. In front of a mirror.
You're going to cut them into shorts. Not shorts you can wear to your kids soccer game, either. Seriously short shorts. Obscenely short. Too short to wear in public.
Take a pen and mark where you want to cut them into shorts. Just a little mark. Take the jeans off. Go down about an inch or two from where you drew the cutting mark. This will allow room for fringe. Cut the jean legs off to make cutoff shorts. You're going for a look that's a little bit Daisy Duke a little bit Marianne and a little bit Ginger. You can use scissors to cut the jeans. You can use a knife if you're VERY careful and you want to make little ragged fringey I've been stuck on a desert island kind of edge to the denim.

Okay, you've got the shorts.

Next, the top.
There are several options.
But first, the most important bit of clothing.
Your bra. You need a good bra with lots of support and lift and cleavage. Doesn't matter if the bra itself is kind of plain without much lace and adornment. Just lift up the girls!

Okay, the top. This is where it gets fun. You could buy a camisole one size too small on purpose. You could buy a buttonup denim vest at the same resale shop you bought the old faded jeans you just cut up. You could wear that peasant blouse you wore 2 summers ago but haven't thrown out. Anything small and dainty that shows off your cleavage. And if you're concious of your tummy from baby stretch marks or something, don't crop the top. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.

If you feel like it, you can wear shoes or boots or whatever. Shoes are TOTALLY not necessary but can be a fun option.

Now. You're almost ready to dance.

Girls, here is the huge couragemaking confidenceboosting truth.
It is impossible for you to fail.
Success is guaranteed and failure is not a remote possibility.
You playfully own your sexuality and grow your comfort zone.
Your man gets the incredibly hot experience of having his wife tantalize him in a way that he has surely fantasized about. And the added bonus, is the whole damn thing is a guilt-free pleasure! For both of you!

Now, some of you may not really consider yourselves dancers.
That is SO okay.
I've got a workaround for that.

Jessica Simpson did a rendition of that old song These Boots are Made for Walkin' and believe me ladies, you leaving him will be the last thing on either of your minds. The beauty of this song for first time tantalizers is it has a nice slow easy beat and if you don't know many dance moves, all you have to do to "get it" is just listen to the music, feel the beat, look him in the eye and strut and saunter around the floor. You don't even need boots.

Now don't go all perfectionistic on yourself and practice it to death trying to make it perfect. This is not Star Search. This is Have Hot Fun At Home. But you may want to strut through the song once, by yourself, just to get into your groove. The first time I danced and strutted my stuff to this song felt effinfabulous!

Remember girls, failure is impossible.

How do I know?

I just know.

Love,
SW

Please my darlings do not let your heart become distracted by thoughts of comparing your body to Jessica or anybody else. Own your own hotness. Share it with your husband. Go for it!

Three and a Half Seconds

God did it again. Made me feel gorgeous when I didn't expect it.

I was wearing an especially womanly woman dress at work yesterday. A fetching little number with cap sleeves, a sailor bow neckline with a tiny amount of peekabo cleavage and a twirly knee-length skirt. I always feel like I've stepped onto the set of a forties World War Two movie when I wear this dress. I even wore pearls and red lipstick. Makes me feel so good!

Delighted Husband had left for work before I did and since I often change into something more comfortable when I get home from work, I doubted he'd see me in this dress. So I wasn't really thinking about my lover seeing me all dolled up, I just did it for me.

So I was lost in thought around lunchtime while on my way to see one of my girlfriends for a drive by hugging. You know that thing where you don't have an entire lunch hour but you take the elevator to your friend's floor just to give her a hug and chat for 5 minutes? Well I love those drive by huggings. It's like the relational version of taking a hit at an oxygen bar. (deep breath happy sigh).

So I was scurrying along the shiny marble floors of Corporate America when I had to pause to wait for an elevator. As I was entering the elevator lobby, a tall stranger was leaving the elevator lobby. He was olive skinned and foreign, although I couldn't tell from where. For three and a half seconds, Olive Skinned Foreigner's eyes met mine for an instant, traveled down my body and up again to meet my eyes with a luminious look of assessment and delight. His friends continued to talk to him and he ignored them. For three and a half seconds, this man looked at me like I was a Ferrarri.

I couldn't tell where he was from by looking at him, could have been the Meditteranean, could have been somewhere in the East. Wherever Olive Skinned Foreigner was from, he was from one of those places in the world where it's not considered rude to stare at a woman for three and a half seconds with a look of frank assessment and obvious delight. Different cultures have very different ideas about feminine beauty. Many foreign cultures admire and embrace voluptuous women. Literally.

Well he admired me but he didn't embrace me.
Those three and a half seconds made me feel like my lungs were full of helium and my heels were an inch off the ground.

I told Delighted Husband all about it during our date that evening.
He laughed with his eyes sparkling and gave me a frank assessment of his own. Then he put his arm around my waist and let his hand accidentally stray to pat my butt before going back to my waist. He's allowed to.

God, I love being a woman!

Possess your vessel with honor

From time to time, a reader will email me and share a bit of their story and ask me to share my perspective on something that's heavy on their heart. I'm honored by this and I offer what I can when I feel like I have something to offer. And I will wait until I feel I have something honorable and good and relevant to say that I feel ready to share. This is one of those times. And this sweet woman (I'll call her D) gave me permission to post my answer to her here. So D darlin', this is for you.

SW wrote~

Quote:

Of course, the safe and legit way to meet this need is for you to start owning and possessing your body in an honorable way and feeling your beauty and directing it towards your husband.

D wrote~

Quote:

And this is the issue. Since I've had no "model" I'm wondering where to go with all this. What is honorable in thoughts? Now I know we are to not lust after others which I feel I have a handle on, but how are we to handle male attention? I struggle with this and I've observed other women struggle (my sister) to the point of abusing their alluring power so to speak. I don't want to do this as I have in the past and this is my greatest fear. The "emotional" need that arises in me when I've felt a man's attention is scary to me. What is this and what causes it? I don't want to be afraid of myself, my body or my looks. I want to be proud of who I am and care about the beauty that HE created in me. As a Christian woman with principles I would never dream of betraying my husband, but the thought of being thin and beautiful (I'm not trying to brag here, but I'm large and still get alot of attention and when I was thinner I got more attention then I ever cared for.) has been too difficult for me to deal with~to the point my heart is saying just make it go away~self rejection. I know God is leading me to deal with this now and is renewing me. I thank HIM for women like you.

And yes, you have my permission to share whatever you think may be helpful.

Blessings to you,
D

I offer my reply~
What a courageous bighearted woman, Miss D!
So many things come to mind.
First of all, I understand the fearing male attention.
I used to feel like I had a target painted on my back and every predator and perpetrator would somehow know I was easy prey.
I also used to fear my own heart. Fear that when my heart responded to male attention that I was at risk for sinning. That's a valid fear. It's good to want to flee temptation. But it's also good to not jettison a blessing from God. Here's what works for me. I started to see God as the one romancing me and the people in my life as his vendors he sent to take care of me. Obviously my Delighted Husband is one of God's preferred vendors God most often uses in my life to bless me. (And I know this goes without saying, but just to be clear, Delighted Husband is the ONLY man that God uses to meet my sexual needs.)

But my husband is not the only channel God uses to bless me and encourage me. That's a whole nother article! Your spouse can't be the beall endall and only source of emotional support in your life. My point is, even when it comes to affirmation and complements from a good man I am not married to, I take them as a gift from God. Let me give an example.

About a year ago, I had just started an exercise routine. It was hard to take that first step and I had been working out just maybe a couple of months or so. I was still in the throes of emotional eating and trying to break free of that so life was a real struggle in that season. I had a week where my exercise was good but my eating was not good. I felt fat and depressed and just generally blah. I was on my way home from exercise class and I had to stop and get gas. I felt very uneasy and embarrassed about this because I was already feeling fat and here I was out in public in my sweaty running tights and tank top. But I had to get gas. Had to. My tank was on empty.

So I'm standing there at the gas pump feeling all mlehhh when the man at the pump facing me says something. I don't hear what he says cause I am so preoccupied with my negative self talk. I look up and say "excuse me?" and he repeats what he said earlier. This man (who did not look like the Unabomber) looks me straight in the face and in a calm low sincere voice says, "You're beautiful." Without conscious thought, I smiled and said "thank you!" and then felt shy and turned back to my gas pump. The man, a clean cut man wearing Dockers and a golf shirt, said "Are you married?" Again, without conscious thought I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, "Very!" and I smiled as I always do when I talk about my husband. That word 'very' spoke volumes. The man's face fell and this reinforced in my mind that his complement and his interest was genuine. Then I felt quite shy and momentarily overwhelmed by this. I'm not used to having people's faces fall when they talk to me. It's pretty normal for me to enjoy bringing a smile to the people I meet. But I couldn't lie to the nice man and I was staggered by the weight of the compliment. I blushed and looked at the gas pump. When I looked up two seconds later to say thank you the man was gone. That's when I figured out this was a God thing.

I got in my car and drove away and the first thing I did was look up at the blue sky overhead and say to God "You are really going out of your way to affirm me, sending me a messenger to tell me I'm beautiful when I'm all sweaty in my gym clothes at the gas station!" and I just laughed at the generosity of God and received His affirmation.

I did not lay awake nights wondering who this man was and plotting to show up at the same time at the same gas station in hopes of running into him again. I just enjoyed what for me felt entirely like a sweet complement from God when I was all down and feeling crummy with my body image.

You see what I mean?

One more thing.
One of the meanest things the villain in the story does is try to make us feel guilty for having our God-given needs. Not even guilt about how we may or may not have those needs met but I'm talkin' about feeling guilty for having the need in the first place. I believe with all my heart that it is a normal God-given need for a woman to feel beautiful and to want someone to notice she is beautiful. Obviously, there are important boundaries that need to be in place, but receiving an admiring glance when you're walking to your table in a restaurant or hearing a sincere complement at church when someone notices your new dress or tells you with a wordless smile that you look fabulous, there is nothing wrong with that. Receive the affirmation as a gift from God. To me, the potential for sin or blessing is all in your mind. Do you immediately send out your gratitude to God thanking Him for affirming you? Or do you start imagining inappropriate behavior with the person who just gave you the complement?

Now, let's not be foolish here. Women have to be wise and develop a keen sense of the Holy Spirit warning them. We don't want to be seduced by some smooth talkin' player. But a random complement affirming you in the area of your life you've been praying about? Yes, I believe that can be God giving us a taste of The Sacred Romance.

That's how I take it anyway.
Love,
SW

After Glow

I'll tell you the same thing I've told all my girlfriends to whom I recommend scheduled sex and they wrinkle their nose and say "ohh but wouldn't that take all the fun out of it?"

Girls, I have walked into an evening of scheduled sex at many stages of arousal, desire, or lack thereof.
And I've never regretted it.
Ever.

I could tell you that making love regularly creates hormonal bonds with your husband, boosts self-esteem, and promotes an overall sense of well-being, ease, and satisfaction. But perhaps you'll understand it better if I tell you a little story.

It's 8:30pm and I have just been loved truly, madly, deeply and past the edge of reason. And now Boy Scouts are over and it's time to go pick up Dear Child. I groan, and stretch and peel myself out of bed. I'm looking for a little consolation prize so I decide to try on that cute little sundress that was too small the last time I tried it. It fits. Yeah, baby! This is just the boost I need. I glide out of the house pausing briefly to slip on some sandals.

I pull up to the door of the church and the scoutmaster who happens to be the pastor walks out with a smile and props his elbow on my drivers side mirror in a conversational pose.
"Wellll hellloooo!"
I give a quick little smile and beckon Dear Child into the SUV. Friendly Pastor will not be dissuaded.
"So how was date night?"
"Great!" I cannot suppress a smile.
"So where'd you go for dinner?"
I stammer, "Um, we, er, We had a picnic" I hope this is at least partially true. I think we ate something before we got busy. I could not tell you what we ate if my life depended on it.
"Ohhh a picnic! Great idea! Where'd you go?"
I feel the heat suffuse my face and know a blush is blooming over my cheeks. "Uhh, we had our picnic at home."
There is a brief tiny flash of recognition and Friendly Pastor draws back like he's been stung. He backpedals admirably with "Well thanks for letting Dear Child participate in our program! We sure had a fun time tonight!"
I smile a proper motherly smile and thank him right back. What I want to say but don't...
No problem, Rev. We wouldn't let him quit if he wanted to! We need the free babysitting!

Dear Son is hungry, so I drive him to Subway and I walk over to Starbucks to get a decaf sugarfree cinnamon dolce.
My walk becomes a saunter as I think of all the things I just did with Delighted Husband. To the casual observer, I am a thirtysomething housewife. A curvaceous soccer mom who shops at Lane Bryant. But I know I am a sex goddess. And Delighted Husband knows it too. I smile. Just feeling good in every joint of my body. I feel lithe and relaxed and absolutely gorgeous. Gorgeous is as gorgeous does. And gorgeous does. She certainly does.