No. YOU Take Your Sexy Back. Keep it.

I had the pleasure of reading Mominatrix: A Guide to Sex by Kristen Chase recently. 

There is no double entendre in that statement.  I read the book.  It was excellent.  It made me happy.  I laughed.  I cried.  I got my money's worth from the bulk box of tissues we get from Costco. I will recommend it to friends.

Now, when I say that I cried, please note that this is NOT a sad book.  It's actually quite funny, bravely frank and a complete riot.  Kristen Chase has chutzpah and passion combined with a smart, witty mind and the writing skills to execute.

I really do heart her.  (Happy Valentines Day Kristen!)

I think it's just find that maybe, (maybe?) I have found myself in a teeny bit of a sad place when it comes to anything that has to do with my own individuality. and well.  Hmmm . . . .

Well, I guess the best thing to say is that the sexy me went on a bit of "hiatus".   Not like a two week hiatus.  More like a several year hiatus.  I don't know when she is coming back (She is SOOOOO, inconsiderate like that.  John is hopeful but I told him that she may let him down.  No updates to her itinerary have been made available).

As a mother of two children still in diapers - I was very excited to get this book through the Silicon Valley Moms Book Club in honor of Valentine's Day. 

I told my husband we would be receiving it in the mail and dropped hints as if he was to expect some immediate rewards once I finished the book.  I also tried to give him meaningful winks, but given my total and utter lack of sexiness these day, he mistook it for a twitch and asked if I was dehydrated.

He's a really sweet man.

I was hopeful that being in possession of the book would be all I needed to reclaim some of the "old Kiran."  This would be in contrast to "OLD Kiran" which is how I feel now.  They may sound like the same thing, but they are very different.  Very much so.

"old Kiran"  knew how to party like a rock star and have a good time.  Party more than Keith Richards.

"OLD Kiran?"  Hmm.  Not so much.  But she more closely resembles Keith Richards.

When our nanny, Kim, stumbled upon the book, I felt like I had been caught with a Playboy magazine.  Not that Kim passed judgment (Well, OK she probably did.  That was freaking prime material.  But not to my face anyway) but I felt like I had been caught at pretending to be someone I am not.

Someone and something I just don't know how to be anymore.  Truth be told.

But the reality of reading this wickedly funny and unapologetically honest book about how to rekindle the essence of romance and sexuality in your marriage after children (Snort.  Sounds like a contradiction, right?) brought up a lot of questions for me.

Perhaps it was my conservative Indian upbringing? (Which by the way did not prevent me from enjoying college just a teensy bit too much)

Perhaps it is the sheer exhaustion that makes me utterly useless and a total waste of space once I have finally put my two small children to bed at night?

I don't know. 

Could it be the 5 extra pounds which I have been trying to lose with no avail?  Granted, while I say that I try (and I do, I really do!) - my weakness for good red wine (oh who am I kidding?  It doesn't need to be all THAT good),  red meat, rice, my mother's samosas, my mother in law's meat sauce and the occasional donut may have played a supporting role in this drama.

I have a two and a half year old daughter.  A six month old son.  I adore them.  I really, REALLY do.  But they are demanding - more demanding than any of my clients whom I may have complained about in a past life. 

And they don't pay me commission.

I love my husband.  Some days, I am amazed he loves me back because I can be a right b^%#. (rhymes with "witch").

My jobs kicks my butt.  I try to maintain a position of power and kick "its" butt.  But it rarely works that way.

I am exhausted.

Wrecked, really.

So, I sit there with every intention of following through on making Kristen Chase's book a reality.  Of taking copious notes and maximizing the fruits of my research. 

But I have to tell you something, friends.  And you may think less of me for it.  That's OK.  So do I. :-(

I felt like an impostor.  As I read the book, I thought to myself - "Gosh!  What a great idea!  Who would do something like that? I want to be HER friend!"

When I got to chapter Two, I actually blushed.  John thought I was choking, I must have turned purple and I think I actually gasped.  (But not in a sexy way.  More like a guttural mix between a snort and a hiccup).

I thought to myself, "I am supposed to do what???!! No.  NO.  NO!  Really Girlfriend?!!  Whatever girl does that, needs to have some serious cojones!" (Spanish 101 lesson - that would be pronounced as ko-ho-nes.  My friend Taylor pronounces it as "Ko-Jo-Neez"  Whatever works for you.  In the end, it still translates to  testacles.)

I have a lovely husband.  Gorgeous.  Smart.  Nice.  Fantastic Father.  (Don't get me wrong.  There are areas of improvement.  He is doing very bad with the "Eats Vegetables regularly?' component in our "marital annual review."

He has a wife who used to be a lot of things. 

A lot of things I no longer know or sometimes, even remember, how to be.

I plan to keep Mominatrix and revisit it in a few months.  I suggest buying it and I hope one day to be the best Mominatrix that I can possibly be.  But I think it may have to wait till at least one of my children is potty trained.  Not saying that is the case for everyone.But it is for me.Just saying, John. 

Today would have been an ideal day for Kiran to use some of the strategies suggested by Chase's excellent book.  However, she is on a business trip in London.  The Hubster is on a flight to the Ukraine.  They have family in town watching their children.  Isn't this all so conducive to romance?

Kiran wants you to know that that she feels cheated by Harlequin and the romance novel industry as a whole, because in those, the heroine lived happily bloody after (heaving bosom and all) and did not have to worry about work, children with "big" personalities and ginormous blizzards that incapacitated the entire state of Virginia. 
And those women never had bad hair days. EVER.
Kiran also wanted to mention that today is John's birthday.  Say "Happy Birthday, John!"  It is also her sister, Munni's birthday.  Say "Happy Birthday, Munni!"  (that is pronounced as "mu-Knee" - not as Taylor would say it which is "Moon-Knee.")

You can visit Kiran at Masala Chica where she is just as dysfunctional as she appears to be here. Peace. But hold the sex, 'k?