Warning: ksort() expects parameter 1 to be array, object given in /home/content/76/9475076/html/wp-content/plugins/bbpress/includes/core/template-functions.php on line 316
Mission: Do It — Two Working Girls on the Verge of a Sexy Revolution

Two professional women: both married with kids and both juggling clients, reports, potty training, packed lunches, chores, dogs, cats, errands, husbands and …”what was that you said? SEX?”
That three-letter word that once was so frequent, so liberating, so yummy has been sidelined in a sea of life, work and snot.
It is time.
Time to put sex back on a pedestal by injecting some extra spice into our relationships.

Latest Possibly Greatest POST-coital

Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da


One year ago, this night, I sat on this couch. I had reached the end of Netflix, my patience, ideas to induce labor. After hemming and hawing to the point that even I was sick of the sound of my own voice, I had finally resigned myself to hit the pitocin and force that boy out.

About this time in the evening, my husband and I were sitting in the room on the hospital’s floor for mothers to tend to their pregnancies. Half at their wit’s end, like me, hoping against all hope that this pregnancy will be over soon by starting the induction cocktail. Half, tensely and optimistically really hoping against all hope that the pregnancy would not be over soon. Their babies needed more time on the inside.

Women from both teams would “go” that night, including me. I took one last picture of my husband as an expectant father. Sitting in the darkened room at Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas. He smiled an excited grin, flashing his darling dimple and gapped front teeth. He was busy obsessing about his new phone as I said, as I have said three times before, “You know, I think I’m having contractions.” And instead of waiting the rest of the night in angst trying to decipher what my body was trying to tell me, a glorious modern “Call the Midwife” angel came in, and checked my cervix. Just like that. Alas, I was at a 6-7, which meant my bed was soon on it’s way to labor and delivery. And so began the birth of my last child, in his own time.

The birth is his special story – perfect in it’s own way and recorded in a letter in a box for him. The baby is my special gift, representing so much of what is good and rewarding in being a parent. Tonight, he is sleeping in my bed, smelling of Gogurt and wearing the overalls my sister Amanda gave me as my first baby gift when I was pregnant with Lee 1.

When you grieve, they make much of the one year anniversary after “it”, whatever “it” may be, happens. And tonight, one year later, I pause to say goodbye to a period of my life that has exceeded all things precious in my mind and heart. Tonight is the one-year anniversary of my body’s last time being pregnant.

I am sure, truly sure I don’t want another. The possibilities of the life ahead (including the obligatory return to intimacy) bear so much promise – I’ve started working in the yard, playing sports and sewing again (helped, of course, by the fact that my parents have the top three Lees for five [count’em, five] weeks in Austin for Amanda Camp with their six to seven [depending on the day] cousins. They [my parents] built a ginourmous pool and needed help [yeah right] christening it).

Pause, precious baby is crying, will be back to finish after he’s handled.

My whole life, I’ve said, “When I have kids…”

That, you see, was the definitive accomplishment I was aiming for. Job, husband, house – those were all the accoutrements of the main life I envisioned, me as a young mom, pregnant and schlepping babies. Here I’ve lived it, and am now evolving for whatever comes next, which I haven’t really grasped, much less labeled. I don’t know that I qualify as an old mom just yet – not because the age offends me, but because I’m still pretty low on years of experience.

Recording the final days last summer.

Recording the final days last summer.

But there’s this horizon I’ve seen in the distance since I was pregnant with Lee 3. Now that I’ve reached it, I realize it’s mid-life.

And because our WHOLE lives we’ve ALWAYS heard it said with the word “crisis” behind it, we think it is something to fear.

Now that I’m here, I’m wondering if that wasn’t a Greenland/Iceland naming ruse, because I’m pretty sure everything about this new stage is awesome.

I just need a moment to mourn the incredible beauty and blessing of the one I’m leaving behind.

Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da.

Life goes on, ESPECIALLY when there’s the chance to celebrate a baby’s glorious first year of life. Bring on the Casa Linda Bakery buttercream frosting!



Rated G

A Public Display of Affection is purely subjective.  For the Duke, a PDA is a prolonged kiss and maybe if I am lucky a stealth-like squeeze of the behind.  For me, I don’t regard those as PDA’s.  No, I am much more flamboyant in expressing my affection for him in public – my arms drape […]

To Be Noted

Before the Duchess or I record any public displays of affection, we would be remiss to not show one of the most touching public displays of affection that has come out of this horrific week for the United States. My heart was full as I watched an arena full of hockey fans unite in their […]

Mission 30: PDA

By now, you should be feeling some extra love for your Mission: Do It partner in crime, so show the world just how well you’re doing behind closed doors (except in the case of the Duchess and Miss Lee, who feel the need to plaster it all over the Internet). Your 30th Mission: Do It […]

An Admission

Miss Lee listen up: Massages bore me. I don’t mean massages in a swanky spa when I am being tended to hand and foot – heck no, they are delicious. Give me a voucher for one of those any time. I mean the massages when I have to sit in one place for a period […]

We Ain’t Nothing But Mammals

The first time Mr. Lee met my parents was at an open house they hosted for my sister Amanda’s wedding. Towards the end of the party, my other sister and her husband had absconded with the remote to the TV room to claim the cable for the night. Mr. Lee was in his best “impress […]

Two Birds

I was assigned to read The Odyssey in Mrs. Fort’s freshman English class. Like Tess of the d’Urbevilles the following year, I didn’t. That is, until I realized I had to turn in an assignment that consisted of 50 journal entries and responses about the book, which I now realize was cruel of Mrs. Fort to ask of […]

My Secret

Mr. Lee lets me fill out his paperwork for doctor appointments. I have also been on him of late to read my latest posts on the blog, which is why I’m posting his only hope to avoid embarassment at his sleep study consultation (to address the snoring) here. In listing the problems he is having, I […]

Mission 29: Massage

Making your husband lift his shirt so you can look for “squeezies” does not count. This has to be a mutual effort in rubbing shoulders, back, feet, neck – whatever body part will please you the most and help you relax. It’s up to you how long to go, and whether to take it coital. But […]

Out of the Mouths of Babes

In a conversation about pajamas at my daughter’s pre-school, she managed to tell her whole class, including her teacher (who knows about this blog): “My daddy sleeps without underwear on top of my mommy.” I found out via text message from another teacher. He found out from the teacher, who understandably blushed while sharing, and […]

The Closet Connection

A few months ago, a dear friend of mine told me that its a wonder marriages survive the newborn stage. She had just had her second baby.  At the time, I was 7 months pregnant with Baby Duchess and in denial, not about having another child, but  that I too would be about to enter […]