If Mom’s Happy: Stories of Erotic Mothers (and why being a cat-mom isn’t even a little the same)

I’m proud to announce I have a story, “Waiting for Ilya,” in this anthology.

This story is proof that authors do not always write from experience. All right, in my case the shape-shifters and space-faring aliens probably gave it away, but this is a story set in 21st century suburbia and could very much be a slice of someone’s real life.

Just not mine.

If you’ve been following me any length of time, you’ve probably figured out that I don’t have children, unless you count the four-footed, feline kind.

Which I really don’t. I’ll sometimes call myself a cat-mom, but much as I love and pamper the cats, I know it’s nothing like the experience of raising human children.

For one, the cats communicate in their own way, but they’ll never learn to talk. They learn and mature in their own ways–three-year-old Xia is quite a different animal than kitten Xia–but it’s not remotely the same as watching a human go from infancy to adulthood. They’ll never go to college, or join the military, or do any of the things human children may choose to do as young adults. They’ll never ask to borrow the car. (I think Tinkerbelle would like to, but driving just isn’t going to work for her. Those little black and white paws can’t depress the gas pedal.)

From www.icanhazburger.com, although it’s been all over the web

And while we do, in the long run, have both a deep, joyous bond and a scary life-and-death responsibility for the animals that share our lives, it’s not neither as wondrous nor as terrifying as what parents feel for their children.

On the other hand, pets don’t often interfere with one’s sex life–and if they try, it’s easy to pick up a ten-pound cat, remove her from the bedroom, and then close the door in her meowing face. Hell, you can put said cat into the back yard if she’s being too demanding, and no would call the police on you for doing so. Children, from what my friends with kids have said, can be a little more problematic, both because you really can’t put the kids in the yard at night to get some privacy and because it can be hard to justify taking the time for “self-indulgence”. Even if you need those adult moments to be the semi-calm, semi-happy, semi-sane parent you strive to be.

That’s why I think If Mom’s Happy is an important book, and why I’m glad it includes my story of an adoptive mom reconciling her new role as parent and protector to a five-year-old and another important role, that of a loving, sexual partner in a rather kinky relationship.

About the book:

Mothers might be exhausted, over-touched and under-appreciated, but they’re problem solvers who know how to get their “self-care” on.  In If Mom’s Happy: Stories of Erotic Mothers, we hear from women waiting for their child’s arrival; mothers of infants, toddlers and teenagers; straight, queer, partnered and single mothers. We hear from mothers who like it vanilla and others who want some kink. They lust after their longtime partners and near strangers, in public and in private, alone or with another… or a few others. No matter where, when, or how, these stories capture the complex and profound –and ultimately satisfying–task of attending to your own desires while tending to children.

The path through mothering affects nearly every aspect of sexuality: intimacy, identity, reproduction, body image, gender roles and expression, vulnerability, reciprocity, skin hunger, and so much more. Like great erotica, mothering explores the complexity of sexuality–the ache, the ecstasy, and everything in between.

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