Why I Started Sleeping With My Mechanic

As I was putting Youngest Child to bed, he asked me how I knew his dad was the man for me.

“Well, he loves Jesus,” I said.

Then pausing for moment.

“And a good mechanic is hard to come by these days.”

With that, the little tyke looked at me with the look all children have when they wonder if their mom has had too much wine.

Or not enough.

Then, right before he rolled over and went to bed, he asked if he could start calling me Mrs. Sibert (now who’s the crazy one in this conversation?!)  Anyway, I told him it seemed a bit formal, seeing how I gave birth to him.

And I’m pretty much his unpaid servant.

But I must admit, I like the sound of “Mrs. Sibert.”

Not necessarily from my 8-year-old, of course, but in general, I do indeed like the sound of it.

Mrs. Sibert.

Why did I start sleeping with my mechanic?

Because I married him.

Actually, he wasn’t exactly my mechanic; he was my neighbor who happened to be really good with his hands.  You know, working on cars and such. (What were you thinking I was talking about?!)

Anyway, in the 10 years we’ve been married, I never once have wondered if my car needs an oil change.  And I don’t lose sleep over any weird intermittent noise under the hood, because I know he will have already heard it.

Diagnosed it.

And probably fixed it before I hear it again.

Which brings me to the point of this post (because I know you are sitting there thinking, “Get to talking about something sex-related, Julie, because that’s kind of what your blog is all about. The sex.”)

Well, my blog is indeed about sex.  More specifically, it’s about sex in relation to what it means within a marriage.

I don’t know about you, but I think there is plenty — I mean, pa-lenty — about marriage that is hard. And even with all the great sex happening beneath our sheets, my husband and I still occasionally have this tendency to play the “who has it worse” game.

You know what I’m talking about.

Where you do the mental gymnastics in your mind, arriving clearly at a place that confirms your original suspicion that you indeed are doing all the heavy lifting.

Your to-do list is longer.

Your responsibilities weightier.

Your exhaustion more severe.

Each time you hear your spouse talk about a yet-done task and say, “We need to do such and such,” you immediately decipher the statement.  Under your breath, you say to yourself, “By we, you mean me.  I need to do such and such, right?!”

I admit I have played that game.  And therein, the Lord often reminds me that I’ve never had to change my oil.

For that matter, I have never felt alone in our finances. Or in caring for his mother.

In countless  ways, this man I fell in love with does much of the heavy lifting in our life. He fixes broken toys. And broken washing machines.  He listens when I’m stressed. He works nights, but still gets up each morning to wrangle with the youngster.

He runs errands. He built a treehouse for our children. And taught Oldest Child how to mow and how to fix a broken light fixture.

I have done much of the heavy lifting, no doubt.  But I haven’t done all of it.

And I have an easier time remembering that when we make love often.

Marriage is indeed complex.  But I’m not so convinced that it is complicated.

For all the marriage tips that abound, a married couple could gain much ground simply by paying close attention to their sexual intimacy. There is more than an ounce of truth in the saying “sex is the glue” — no matter how cliche it may sound.

Why did I start sleeping with my mechanic?

Well, I started sleeping with him because I married him and loved him.

I kept sleeping with him because I soon learned how sex makes our marriage richer.  Deeper. Friendlier. More tolerable in the most difficult of times. I kept sleeping with him because I love him. And love does.

Why did you start sleeping with your husband?  Are you still “sleeping” with him?

Or are you just sleeping?

Copyright 2013, Julie Sibert, Intimacy in Marriage Blog.