Silly, silly Karly.  Giving up this fine space to the likes of me.  Who am I you ask.  I’m Mamma.  I write over at Mamma Loves… and DC Metro Moms.  But today, today I’m here and Karly isn’t, so I’m totally going to slut the place up. 

Now I’d typically go at the whole brothelizing the joint by hanging red silk scarves over the lights and showing you my tits, but ask anyone–my HTML skills suck and well the tits?  I’ve nursed two babies.  I’m not so sure I could retrieve them from my waistband anymore.

No.  The way we’re going to get all Xaviera Hollander is to discuss Blogher.

Blogher?

Yep Blogher.  I know much has been written about Blogher and by now you’re sick and tired of hearing about it–the parties, the pictures, the swag.  But did you hear about the sex toys?  Yours truly came home with some lovely items.

The first panel I attended was entitled Naked on Web: Will Personal Bloggers Make History.  The topic was fascinating as the premise was that women bloggers are recording womens’ lives in a manner unlike  ever before in history.  While historians must now trudge through moldy, dusty archives to find letters or journals that document the lives of everyday women in history, blogs will provide future historians with a vast accounting of the lives of "everyday" women.  I loved this idea.

Nice, but where do the sex toys come in?

One of the panelists was Always Aroused Girl.  AAG is a mom, an ex-wife, a sex toy reviewer and a blogger (among other things I’m sure–aren’t we all?).  AAG has a terrific backstory.  She kept a journal for years of all of her fantasies–fantasies she could never act out in her first marriage.  Upon getting divorced she decided to start living them out and documenting her journey on her blog.  Is that bravery or what?

Not only is she brave, but she’s sweet as can be as well.  The minute she found out she would be speaking on a panel at Blogher she contacted all the vendors she reviews for and had them send items for her very own swag bags.  The first thirty or so people to arrive at the panel each received the coveted silver bag.  Apparently each was filled a bit differently.  Mine? 

Of course I’m such a horndog I immediately had to check out the contents.  Condoms, lube, brochures, a pink dildo (dishwasher safe) and a big white gift box.  I pulled out that box and opened it slowly like it was Christmas morning.  Inside there was pink tissue paper enfolding my treasure.  I gently pulled back the paper to reveal a large, purple, glittery silicone thing–a thing that looked like a gun.  It was a bit anticlimactic.

I did go and thank AAG for my goodie bag (I may be a horndog, but my mom raised me right), and she inquired as to its contents.  The novice that I am said, "Oh it had two dildos."  "Did you get one of the Jollies?!", she asked very excited.  "Um, I don’t know."  "Does it look like a gun?", she replied.  "Um, yeah."  "Oh you have to check out their website!"  Then she went on energetically describing all of the selling points of the Jollie.  I nodded, thanked her again, walked on to my next panel and spent the rest of the day pulling out the Jollie to anyone who would look at it.  It got handled quite a bit.

Now I could go on to recount to you the story of getting stopped by TSA at O’Hare for a thorough bag check–yes as the entire security line was held up and watching as they pulled out not one but two dildos from my bag.  But I’ve already taken up too much of your time.  I will just leave you with the most shocking tidbit about my dildo swag which wasn’t revealed until a few weeks later. 

Any of you who have actually returned from surfing the Jollies web page may already know this, but one evening while bored I decided to check out the site that AAG had raved about.  She said they gave suggestions for its use etc.  So I checked it out.  Now it wasn’t the suggested uses or variety of positions that were scandalous.  It was the price.  I had received a $150 dildo!  One hundred and fifty dollars for a hunk of sparkly silicone!  Seriously?!  Seriously?! 

I’m thinking about quitting my job and starting a sex toy manufacturing business in my kitchen.  I may even through in some glitter.   

Well, not you and me together. Having sex. Just you and me talking about sex together.

I have a question for all you wild and crazy ladies, or hell, maybe even for you little Catholic school girls who were taught that only whores enjoy sex and now you are rebelling by actually enjoying the s-e-x. Whatever. If you’re having sex, I want to talk to you about it.

Heres the thing. I’m a wee bit loud when it comes to night time activities. We all know that normally I’m just a delicate little flower, but when it comes to lovin’ I let it out. (Hi there, Dad! Why don’t you click here so you can maybe stop throwing up.)

Cleatus enjoys the loudness that is our sex, but I’m not sure Eeyore and Cindy-Lu appreciate it. I mean, at this point, I don’t think they’ve ever heard me. We tend to wait until they are asleep and not much wakes them up. But, one day, sooner rather than later, my son is going to be laying in bed with a pillow over his ears begging God to just kill him now and put him out of his misery. And thats just not right.

So, ladies, what do you do? Were you loud before kids? Are you loud after kids? Do you tone it down? Do you not utter a peep? Or, heaven forbid, do you just not have sex anymore?