my first time.

On St. Valentine's day, I went to a dermatology appointment. Nothing says love like a little liquid nitrogen.

In the waiting room, I picked up a Glamour magazine. Don't judge me--the other options were Golf Digest and WebMD.

Ok, judge me. I should have just sat and prayed a rosary. But I consider Glamour (and Cosmopolitan and others of that ilk) to be the antithesis of all I am and believe, so I told myself I was engaging in opposition research.

I came to a collection of little first-person narratives all centered around the lovey-dovey theme of "My first time ______." Some charming examples:

- "My first time cheating on my wife (but don't worry, she was ok with it)"
- "My first time moving in with a guy"
- "My first time in a three way"
- "My first time sleeping with a woman (a straight woman's perspective)"

Nothing like a little infidelity, multiple partners, shacking up and sexual experimentation to spice up life. The narratives grew progressively more outrageous and concocted. By the time a nurse called my name, I had flipped it shut and hid it behind the now much more appealing Golf Digest.

I wonder: Does Glamour publish material like that because it is provoking and titillating? Or, do its editors truly find those kinds of "firsts" to be noteworthy?

And why is this kind of publication sitting in a doctor's office? Who makes the decision to subscribe to this kind of thing? Do women actually read these kinds of articles and feel edified or better for having read it? Or does it make women sad, sad to see a so-called women's magazine glorifying a husband's infidelity and sexual license? If it doesn't, it should.

I'm married with children. My "first time" has obviously passed. And though the sex-obsessed writers and editors of Glamour think there's quite a few firsts out there that I could try next, I'm strangely not tempted by them.

Because, they say, if you've already had your "first time," what else is there?

Lots. Since marrying, my life has been a string of first times.

My first time being pregnant. My first (and hopefully only) time losing a baby. My first time giving birth. My first time being published. My first time taking a child to pre-school. My first time hosting Thanksgiving. My first time being laid off. My first time surviving life with two babies in tow. My first time undergoing surgery.

These aren't overly momentous firsts, and they're certainly not unique. But they'e all been firsts for me. Many if not all of them are due to the fact that I chose to vow my life to one man, welcome children, and face the beautiful consequences.

Five years of firsts. And to think--none of them made the pages of Glamour. And isn't that a good thing!