I’ll admit it up front: what I’m about to say is probably going to sound defensive. But to give you some background, I’m a little tapped out these days and not at my most generous. As a parent to 4-year-old twins, a senior director at a small non-profit, and the wife of a workaholic, I’m subject to the demands of others 24/7. So I hope you’ll pardon me for not taking kindly to the implication that I should be doing more.

This is why two recent articles – one by Katie Roiphe and one by Erica Jong, both of whom suggest that women today are not sexual enough – really rubbed me the wrong way. Jong, who famously created the “zipless fuck” in 1973, accuses younger women of taking refuge from sex in motherhood, wearing “man-distancing slings” and sleeping with their children instead of their husbands. Roiphe, controversial since her 1994 book The Morning After claimed that date rape on college campuses was overstated, is even more derisive, poking fun at the parents featured in the recent bestselling satirical children’s book Go the F*ck to Sleep because their greatest desire is to collapse on the couch and watch a movie together once their kid finally goes to sleep. She thinks this is pathetic and snarkily orders them to “Put on a f*cking dress. Have a f*cking drink.”

On the one hand, I’m a big believer in the importance of self-care and renewal, and I think the right to “me time” can’t be overstated for mothers (perhaps for working mothers most of all). So I appreciate the directive to carve out time for adult pleasures and not cater exclusively to the needs of the kids. On the other hand, I resent Jong and Roiphe’s attempt to define what those pleasures should look like. Why can’t those pleasures be to snuggle in ratty pajamas in front of the TV? Or, for that matter, take a walk by myself? In my downtime, I don’t want to feel pressure to dress up, look good, and conform to social norms about what makes me an attractive and successful adult woman.  Watching a movie in my pajamas should not be a sign of failure. Behind their words I detect an air of competition and superiority: they haven’t let themselves go into frumpy, sexless motherhood. Therefore, they are more womanly. (Note, for example, that while Go the F*ck to Sleep is narrated by the father, Roiphe’s most pointed remarks – those about putting on a dress – are directed at the mother. It is her job to put on a dress to help quell her husband’s simmering desperation.)

But is their concern really for women’s happiness? Or are they reinforcing a vision of women’s worth as linked to their sexual availability? Jong declares that mothers today “breast feed at all hours so your mate knows your breasts don’t belong to him.” Um, last time I checked, they didn’t! My breasts belong to me, and if I want them to be left alone sometimes, that’s my prerogative. I’m pretty sure feminism still includes women’s right to control their own bodies and define their own pleasure. And an important part of being an adult is knowing when I want to have sex, and when I don’t.

So go ahead – dismiss this piece as the ranting of a woman who just needs to get laid.  But know that if you do, you’re further ramping up the expectations that women should always “do it all.”

Judith Rosenbaum is a feminist historian, educator, and writer, and director of public history at the Jewish Women’s Archive. She is a founder and blogger at Jewesses with Attitude and is currently working on an anthology that explores contemporary redefinitions of the “Jewish mother.” She lives in Boston with her husband and their hilarious and high-spirited four-year-old twins. You can find her on Twitter at @jahr.

Photo credit Sarahnaut/Flickr