SUGAR AND SPICE...

I've decided I'm gonna go there...and if what I'm about to say does not apply to you as a woman, then just let it go in one ear and out the next...(pun intended). Brace yourselves...
I was raised on this little poem here:

What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails
That's what little boys are made of !"
What are little girls made of?
"Sugar and spice and all things nice
That's what little girls are made of!"

What they don't tell you is that when you have a child with a disability, the little girl gets lost and you become unisex...a militant general ready to fight for your child, a teacher intent on making life one big, constant lesson, a slave of the home and the washing machine, and sex...it just becomes one more chore...one more demand to satisfy.
Our most intimate part becomes a traffic tunnel and what our husbands, oftentimes-because we all know they are from Mars- don't realize is that that lower region is connected to our minds and hearts. When all we have in our mind is the fact that our child needs to learn to say the "S" sound or the teacher called and he is disrupting the class, or he still hasn't learned to poop in the potty, and our hearts are broken because our kids are frustrated and unable to communicate...there just ain't a lot of koochy in the hoochie.
So, many times in our depression, we turn to sugar, perhaps to regain some of that "sugah," and we get fat and more depressed, because we are women and our moods are oftentimes a reflection of our weight.
This is where the true role of the husband comes into play. How many times do we yell at our husbands because they don't understand what our kids are trying to say; when they have no clue what they are working on in speech therapy and they let a teaching moment go by? How aggravating is it when they don't get that your child needs discipline and not a video game to keep him quiet? Yet, how wonderful is it when you are so tired, stressed out and frustrated after a long day of speech therapy lessons, cooking, cleaning and working, when your husband looks at you like the desirable woman he met twenty years ago, still sees you like he did when he first met you, gives you a long passionate kiss and says, "You look like you could use a massage, roll over?!"
FEMALE REACTION: SPICE...(to be continued)