CELEBRITY NEWS --I have three children - and still have sex four times a week. Want to know my secret

• Claire Smith, 43, rediscovered joy of sex after ten years of non-existent libido
• Racy lingerie and Brazilian wax helped her feel sexy again
• 'It's like going to the gym, once you make the effort, you get addicted'Four times a week. If I told you I’m a 43-year-old mother of three children under ten and that’s how many times I make love to my husband (and no, I don’t mean begrudgingly), would you believe me?
  Heck, as little as six months ago I’d have rolled my eyes in disbelief, too.
  Well, it’s true: I have stumbled upon a little-known fact. And like any good evangelist, I’m keen to spread the word.
  Speak to any mother of young children and she’ll undoubtedly tell you that intimacy with her husband is not on her list of priorities. Not for nothing does one of my friends call it the ‘last job of the day’.
  I used to be like this. I could eke out our sexual droughts for months, but my hubby Ken, 45, would eventually get snappy and I’d have to give in.
  But the truth I’ve discovered is that having children eventually makes your sex life even better. I’d go so far as to say that with a bit of work it can trigger a second honeymoon.
  It’s like having sex at your parents’ house; the furtiveness makes it all the more thrilling, and those thrills bring you closer together.
  In many ways, our sex life is better now than when we first met. We know each other better, we’re more experienced and our love life has been transformed.
  I met Ken at a wedding when I was 29 and he was 31. As clichéd as it might sound, it was love at first sight. The trouble was he lived in Cambridge and I worked at a music management company in London, so we could see each other only at weekends.
  The passion was palpable every time we were reunited. It wasn’t long before we moved in together in Hitchin, Hertfordshire, and by the time we married in September 2002, we’d spoken about having children, which was a good thing because I conceived on our wedding night.
  But I didn’t find pregnancy easy. My skin erupted and I piled on three stone. For the first time in my life, I’d look in the mirror and recoil. And it’s true what they say about the link between a woman’s self-confidence and her libido.
  
   

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  But Ken was as frisky as ever. He’d be all hands when I was vacuuming. Instead of feeling flattered, I’d swat him away.
  Of course, things only worsened after our son Charlie was born.
  I had an emergency Caesarean. Not only did I feel violated by the experience, it left me with angry scars across my tummy.
  Then came the soul-drenching exhaustion of motherhood. Ken worked long hours at an environment consultancy, so that meant the vast majority of parenting and chores were left to me.
  I went from being a bouncy, flirty thing to an anxious, snappy creature who lived in a far from fetching T-shirt and tracksuit.
  However, Ken started getting amorous less than three months after the birth. When met by my distinctly cold shoulder, he’d say: ‘Have you gone off me?’
  I finally acquiesced after four months, with great reluctance. I just felt so unattractive and tired.
  
  

  Sex four times a week: Claire and her beloved husband
  From then on, I’d try to leave it as long as possible, but I’d always give in eventually — usually in the missionary position and mainly because I didn’t want his needs being met elsewhere.
  After having children, a woman’s needs become things such as her husband unloading the dishwasher or holding the baby. But a man’s remain of the carnal variety.
  Despite all of the above, I soon decided I wanted another baby. Our daughter Lyra was born in March 2005. Sex was the first thing to go again. And again, it only reappeared on my agenda when I decided on a third child.
  Ken was pleased we were active in the bedroom once more, but after our son Miller was born in November 2008 I really struggled with sex and my self-image.
  After a year of juggling three young children on my own, I found myself sobbing my heart out to my GP, who prescribed me anti-depressants.
  At last, Ken could see my froideur wasn’t down to him. On one occasion, he even confessed he’d feared I was having an affair.
  Now that he understood and supported me I could piece myself back together. Within a year I was off the medication.
  By that time, I’d built up a group of mummy friends and our main topic of conversation was how a house full of children left us doing all we could to avoid sex.
  But I knew my lovely husband deserved more. I wanted to satisfy him, but my confidence had been so shaken. Could anything bring the fizz back?
  After months of internal debate I took action. Oddly enough, the trigger was a petty, domestic row. I stormed off with the joint credit card, determined to cheer myself up with some retail therapy.
  It was then that a lingerie store caught my eye — and I realised I’d been wearing the same greying maternity bras for four years. What had I become?
  Flirtation had always been a part of my character. Now, a row was as near as we had got to passion in months.
  I found myself in the changing room trying on an exorbitantly expensive hot pink bra and knickers. I thought: ‘I look all right!’
  My breasts had changed and my hips were wider, but I’d lost my pregnancy weight.
  I bought the undies and walked out of the shop with a spring in my step. I was about to re-ignite a long-dormant spark.
  
  

  Imitating art: Claire and her husband once tried to copy a Desperate Housewives plot by having sex every day for a week
  The next week, when I confessed to my girlfriends that I’d decided to make the earth move again, they advised me to try waxing.
  The next day I had a Brazilian and it made me feel brilliant.
  And so, that night, while Ken was putting the children to bed, I changed into my new undies and slipped into bed. Instigating sex for the first time in years was such a turn-on.
  When he saw me in bed, Ken’s mouth dropped open. It was the best sex we’d had in years. It felt like those early days when all that mattered was us.
  My libido had been kick-started. Seeing how happy it had made us, I came up with a plan inspired by Desperate Housewives. I decided we should try to have sex every day for a week.
  And while we managed only three nights — exhaustion, TV and a tummy bug got in the way — we had fun trying. I realised what I’d been missing: how making love unites a couple. The next morning we were far more demonstrative in our affections.
  Sex is like going to the gym: you might not fancy it to start with, but once you make the effort, you get addicted.
  It became a naughty secret between us — we’d send each other sexy texts during the day and gaze at each other over dinner. I suddenly remembered what I’d found so attractive about my husband.
  It felt so daring: adults frolicking in the same house as the children! Before we had children, the fact sex was on tap made us complacent.
  Today, Ken is beaming and I’ve adopted a bit of a wiggle. The effect on my confidence is such that I even bought a racy basque the other day — something I would never have dreamed of in my 20s.
  To all those who read this thinking ‘if only!’, I’d stress that if I can do it — after three children and ten years of non-existent libido — anyone can. And believe me, you’ll want to shout about it, too.