Category: Marriage
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Romance Goals And How Sometimes It’s Best To Say Nothing At All
‘Have you farted?’ the old man said to me as he brushed past me to get into my bath water. Not exactly the three words I hoped to hear when we said our vows nearly twenty-five years ago. But if he’d said ‘I love you’, I would probably have worried that he was hiding something.…
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My Seven Secrets To A Lasting Marriage
Apparently, marriage is back in fashion and as it was our anniversary yesterday – hence, that time of the year where I selflessly dedicate twenty-four hours of my time to be nice to my husband in return for a slap-up meal – I’ve decided to share the reasons behind our unmitigated happiness and unbridled passion.…
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Middle-Aged Memory Loss: When You Need A Checklist Just To Leave The House
So apparently, the old man also experiences the whole dementia thing, which I had hoped was short-term in my case and attributed to menopause rather than a permanent decline. Getting out of the house together can be a strain these days and the organization we require to remember everything we need has become an embarrassment. We…
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Taking The Middle-Aged Man On Holiday
Mini breaks are what you do in middle age when the kids get too cool to come away with you (and you can’t afford to take them, anyway), and the idea of a long holiday with your other half is too daunting. They should be long enough to give you a break from the pressures…
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Those Embarrassing, Inane Conversations Of Middle Age
I’m not sure when the old man and I silently agreed that inane middle-aged conversation was acceptable now. It was probably another one of those telepathic, marital communications that we couldn’t verbalise due to the shame, but one day it was suddenly okay to talk about gibberish – about stuff like the weather or what…
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Are Separate Bedrooms The Beginning Of The End?
So the old man has finally committed to the purchase of a bed for his study. Not, as I originally suspected, for those afternoon naps we all know he has when he pretends to be working, but somewhere to migrate to in the early hours of the morning when the snoring Olympics begin, of which…
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When Equality Leads To Divorce
I know I’m a feminist, nevertheless I’ve decided to impeach my house husband for misconduct in the area of the family food shop. He’s simply not up to the job. Albeit he has done some fine work in terms of a reduction in cost to our weekly food bill, happiness isn’t just about money and…
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The Secret To Long-Term Relationships
If I could seriously answer this, I’d be a millionaire by now. Nice pic, but like it would ever happen in our relationship! Either I would fall off or the old man would keep moaning about how my weight made it impossible for him to pedal until we had a fight. But… You do get to…
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‘Pretend You’re Good At It’
I’m reading “Furiously Happy” by Jenny Lawson, (aka The Bloggess) at the moment, upon the recommendation of Lana Hirshowitz, and although I initially struggled to decipher the twisting maze of her brain patterns, I’ve since tapped in and have found myself identify with the author’s self-professed craziness and daily struggles with anxiety. The book is…
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I Should Have Packed The Wine
‘You’re the one that I want…’ the old man sang to me when I got up this morning. A sincere effort, I believe, to calm the storms that have inevitably begun to build up as we get ready to move. He’s been in a suspiciously good mood all week which he has tried to disguise…
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The Hardest Part Of Parenting Is Agreeing How To Parent
When we were in London a few months ago, we listened to LBC, a talk radio station where current news topics are raised and listeners call in to voice their opinions. One of the topics was about the LGBT community and how universities are providing halls of residence strictly for LGBT students in a bid…
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Anxiety, Hope and Earning The Olympic Gold For Worrying
If they handed out an Olympic Gold for worrying, I’d get it. I’ve skirted around the void of depression many times, when my anxiety has gnawed away at me like some flesh-eating bacteria, so close to the bone that I’ve felt like it was all too much. Unlike many people out there who wax lyrical…
LOUISA SIMMONDS 