Being Kendra_ Cribs, Cocktails, and Getting My Sexy Back - Kendra Wilkinson [89]
It’s to keep us connected when we’re apart and that much more excited for when we actually do get to see each other, which can be a day, a week, or a month away. It makes us think about each other. Foreplay starts weeks before sex. For us, Skype is the ultimate foreplay.
There are lots of ways you can go about it to satisfy both of your needs. But the whole experience can be bittersweet because while you’re kind of together, you’re not actually together.
Afterword
As you can see, Hank and I don’t do much by the book. When Hank Jr. was born, we had a lot to learn about being parents. It all seemed to happen so fast—and, of course, on-camera. I tried a “fake it till you make it” attitude and followed my basic motherly instincts to figure it all out. It wasn’t perfect, but our experiences as a family over the last two years have been perfectly us.
Most happily married couples live under the same roof. For the first two years of our marriage, Hank and I didn’t even come close to that; we spent most of the time on opposite sides of the country. Most couples wait until they get back to their honeymoon suite to get it on after the wedding, and as you know from Sliding into Home, we didn’t even make it out of the limo before that happened. Most married couples wait until six weeks after birth to start having sex, Hank and I lasted thirty days. We don’t follow rules—other than no cheating and no texting and driving. We make up our own as we go. And when it comes to parenting, we found our way by going off instincts and intuition. It’s not always smooth and it’s not always successful, but ultimately, we’re raising a pretty happy, pretty healthy kid.
Being a parent has transformed me in every way possible. And perhaps most surprisingly, it has made me be more social. I admit I don’t have that many close friends, but ever since we moved into our new Calabasas neighborhood, I’ve definitely made more of an effort.
Being a mom introduced me to a different side of friendship, based on sharing experiences, hopes and dreams, and, of course, fears. I didn’t meet a lot of real friends in the ten years I spent hanging out in strip clubs and nightclubs. I trusted very few people and as a result had only a few confidants. But it’s so much easier when your common interests are being moms instead of partying in the same circle. I met this mom at the park in my new neighborhood and we started talking because we were both there with our kids. That’s all it took! You’ve got a kid, I’ve got a kid, we are both here watching them go down the slide, let’s talk! None of these moms in a million years would have approached me without baby Hank. Being a mom has opened me up to a whole world of friends and experiences I would otherwise have been closed off to.
As soon as I moved in, I became good friends with my neighbor. She has a little girl who is about three years old, and Hank Jr. just adores her (I mean, she feeds him grapes—what more could a guy ask for?). We get together and talk and talk. And what I love about her is that, like me, she doesn’t let the “mom” label define her. We’ll have a glass of wine (or two) while we’re sitting in the backyard watching the kids. We don’t talk about diapers and creams and rashes, we talk about tanning and fashion and the news. We don’t limit ourselves to just talking about raising our kids. I’m sure a lot of moms, like me, once had a wild life full of boys, booze, and late-night bashes. Now, like me, it’s cribs, crying, and hopefully a cocktail here and there. Because I never want to totally give up who I am and where I’ve been.
Kicking back with my neighbor and a glass of Pinot Grigio, all I can do is smile at how far I’ve come. I used to think all that mattered was my