<p>Late last night, my husband returned from a work trip to find me scraping the bottom of a casserole dish. He listed all the ways he was shattered. Then I listed all the ways I was. <br /><br /></p>.<p>“Right,” I said. “Let’s do it.” Gritting our teeth, we plodded upstairs to have sex. This cheered us up so much that we bounded back downstairs and cooked dinner a deux (which we then ate in separate rooms, because he had a date with the rugby and I fancied an episode of Veep).<br /><br />Rewind this scene — take the sex out of the sandwich — and you’d just have two tired people, eating in resentful isolation and fighting for custody of the ketchup (not to mention the remote). That was us a few years back. My husband travelled a lot with work; I stayed put with the kids. Reunions, when they came, were loaded — and if we didn’t get off on the right foot, it could take days to get back on track.<br /><br />So we devised the one-hour rule: when he returns from a trip, no matter how fraught, fetid or unwashed we both are, we have to have sex within 60 minutes of him walking through the front door. It works, because it gives sex a deadline. And deadlines work. Just think of all the things you’ve ticked off your to-do list today. Now think how much more fun you’d have had by striking off ‘client phone call at 7 am’ and replacing it with ‘shag’.<br /><br />Everyone bangs on about sex being a gift. I’d rather call it a chore — if chore means ‘necessary job to keep our life together’. More to the point, ‘chore’ means it’ll actually get done. When it comes to our sexual template, I say: forget the Kama Sutra, look to rubbish collection day. It’s pouring with rain, you’re late for work, but you still manage to put the bins out — no matter how soggy or breathless it leaves you. Why can’t the same rule apply to sex? Not romantic? Maybe, but it’s a lot more romantic than splitting up. <br /><br />Chartered psychologist, Dr Carie Schuster identifies stress as “the biggest killer of your sex-life”. Whether this stress comes from careers, kids — or juggling both — it’s lynching our libidos. In 1990, women (aged 16-44) in live-in relationships were enjoying sex around six times a month. By 2000, that was down to four times. Crack on at this rate, and soon none of us will be having sex at all.<br /><br />Just like Kelly. Once a complete sauce-bucket, my 35 year-old pal hasn’t had sex with her husband since the birth of their first child, six months ago. Having always set the bar high when it comes to the act of love, my now-knackered chum finds she can’t fire at all. Dr Carie finds this a common reaction: “Many of us, when stressed, think ‘if I can’t have good sex, I’m not going to have sex at all.’ But delaying for the perfect moment means ‘sex <br />becomes too big a thing”.<br /><br />My long-married pal Vanessa describes herself (somewhat mournfully) as ‘always wanting sex’. But her husband is “never in the mood. He says he needs candles and a massage — and who has time for that?” Much happier is my 33-year-old sister. A tired new mum, she’s nonetheless re-engaged with her sex life. ‘Truth is, good sex doesn’t require much. You can take each other to heaven and back in less time than it takes to find the tin-opener’.<br /><br />“Fortunately, I’m an incredibly lazy lover,” she says. “It takes the pressure off both of us.” By keeping standards low, they’re enjoying regular, loving sex, until they’re ready to get creative again (or not. They’re parents now; who are we kidding?) In fact, she was just suggesting donning sexy pants – precisely the sort of low-level adventuring I advocate.<br /><br />Rather than sex being a reward for romance, it should be the catalyst for it. Your partner is annoying you? Have sex! Turn friction to passion, and enjoy the sparks. One pal still speaks fondly of a furious bout of marital love-making: “His head was bobbing over mine, and I just wanted to bite his nose off.” She didn’t, of course. They rode each other to ecstasy, then trotted gamely back to discussing how to mend the dishwasher.<br /><br />Because sex can be the most wonderful shortcut to intimacy. When a knackered couple ends up in a grateful tangle, hearts beating hard, they may finally — miraculously — feel ready to try something really exciting: a conversation.<br /></p>
<p>Late last night, my husband returned from a work trip to find me scraping the bottom of a casserole dish. He listed all the ways he was shattered. Then I listed all the ways I was. <br /><br /></p>.<p>“Right,” I said. “Let’s do it.” Gritting our teeth, we plodded upstairs to have sex. This cheered us up so much that we bounded back downstairs and cooked dinner a deux (which we then ate in separate rooms, because he had a date with the rugby and I fancied an episode of Veep).<br /><br />Rewind this scene — take the sex out of the sandwich — and you’d just have two tired people, eating in resentful isolation and fighting for custody of the ketchup (not to mention the remote). That was us a few years back. My husband travelled a lot with work; I stayed put with the kids. Reunions, when they came, were loaded — and if we didn’t get off on the right foot, it could take days to get back on track.<br /><br />So we devised the one-hour rule: when he returns from a trip, no matter how fraught, fetid or unwashed we both are, we have to have sex within 60 minutes of him walking through the front door. It works, because it gives sex a deadline. And deadlines work. Just think of all the things you’ve ticked off your to-do list today. Now think how much more fun you’d have had by striking off ‘client phone call at 7 am’ and replacing it with ‘shag’.<br /><br />Everyone bangs on about sex being a gift. I’d rather call it a chore — if chore means ‘necessary job to keep our life together’. More to the point, ‘chore’ means it’ll actually get done. When it comes to our sexual template, I say: forget the Kama Sutra, look to rubbish collection day. It’s pouring with rain, you’re late for work, but you still manage to put the bins out — no matter how soggy or breathless it leaves you. Why can’t the same rule apply to sex? Not romantic? Maybe, but it’s a lot more romantic than splitting up. <br /><br />Chartered psychologist, Dr Carie Schuster identifies stress as “the biggest killer of your sex-life”. Whether this stress comes from careers, kids — or juggling both — it’s lynching our libidos. In 1990, women (aged 16-44) in live-in relationships were enjoying sex around six times a month. By 2000, that was down to four times. Crack on at this rate, and soon none of us will be having sex at all.<br /><br />Just like Kelly. Once a complete sauce-bucket, my 35 year-old pal hasn’t had sex with her husband since the birth of their first child, six months ago. Having always set the bar high when it comes to the act of love, my now-knackered chum finds she can’t fire at all. Dr Carie finds this a common reaction: “Many of us, when stressed, think ‘if I can’t have good sex, I’m not going to have sex at all.’ But delaying for the perfect moment means ‘sex <br />becomes too big a thing”.<br /><br />My long-married pal Vanessa describes herself (somewhat mournfully) as ‘always wanting sex’. But her husband is “never in the mood. He says he needs candles and a massage — and who has time for that?” Much happier is my 33-year-old sister. A tired new mum, she’s nonetheless re-engaged with her sex life. ‘Truth is, good sex doesn’t require much. You can take each other to heaven and back in less time than it takes to find the tin-opener’.<br /><br />“Fortunately, I’m an incredibly lazy lover,” she says. “It takes the pressure off both of us.” By keeping standards low, they’re enjoying regular, loving sex, until they’re ready to get creative again (or not. They’re parents now; who are we kidding?) In fact, she was just suggesting donning sexy pants – precisely the sort of low-level adventuring I advocate.<br /><br />Rather than sex being a reward for romance, it should be the catalyst for it. Your partner is annoying you? Have sex! Turn friction to passion, and enjoy the sparks. One pal still speaks fondly of a furious bout of marital love-making: “His head was bobbing over mine, and I just wanted to bite his nose off.” She didn’t, of course. They rode each other to ecstasy, then trotted gamely back to discussing how to mend the dishwasher.<br /><br />Because sex can be the most wonderful shortcut to intimacy. When a knackered couple ends up in a grateful tangle, hearts beating hard, they may finally — miraculously — feel ready to try something really exciting: a conversation.<br /></p>