The Husband and I don’t have an exciting sex life during the holidays, and I’ll tell you why – my family. I don’t see these people all the time, yet for some reason I feel an overwhelming urge to get some kind of acceptance from my mother and the rest of the family. I go so far as to drive my husband and the Socialites (my 14 & 15 year old daughters) insane.

I don’t spend a lot of time with my mother – possibly because she’s the most aggravating person who walks the earth. She always has a new ailment. I used to try to contain all of our conversations to just ten minutes. Now that she can text - I try to keep our contact down to text messages. Unfortunately, her texts are something between text speak and Russian. Not even the Socialites can figure it out. God forbid I have to talk to her on the phone anymore. She’d spend all of her allotted 10 minute time talking about her knee or her heartburn. I don’t have time. This makes these family holidays important – because my mother’s not the only one I avoid...and now I’m forced to make time with everyone I avoid...all at once.

The Husband has learned to just go with the flow. There’s probably not going to be any sex during the holidays, but at least there won’t be any screaming. I have to style outfits for myself, the Husband, and the Socialites...and The Socialites won’t answer me unless I speak with a British accent. Why? I don’t know – but they think it’s hilarious, and I’m wondering why I didn’t eat them when they popped out.

I always volunteer to make way too much food. Guess who ends up cooking it? The Husband. We’re always running late. Guess who runs around looking for a pair of stockings that were put in the wrong drawer? The Husband. The Husband takes the last shower, getting all of the cold water. He’s the one who burns his hand on my straightening iron because I’m taking up all the bathroom counter space. He tries to help with everything.

When we walk in to whichever family gathering that we’re having, the one thing that I always notice is that I’m on the arm of a man. He smells good. He looks good. He’s worked so hard to make sure that I’m calm, together, and ready for whichever event we’re going to. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t love me.

So, our sex life may not be booming over the holidays, but our relationship grows in a different way. I trust him. I lean on him. I need him, and he likes being needed. He saves me from conversations as soon as someone comments on my hair or earrings. I used to have to suffer through those...alone. Now I don’t. Now I’m not so worried about it even if I get caught in one. I’m learning a new perspective. It’s not my mother and the rest of these people that I never see that I need to impress. It’s the Husband. Half of some of my redneck brothers come to some of these parties in camouflage, anyway.