wedding

This much I know about marriage, five years in

Leave a Comment

This much I know about marriage, five years onI know that being married to you is just like being in a long term relationship with you, except people don’t ask when we’re planning to get married any more, because we’ve already done it.

I know that choosing a lawyer for a husband is, on a practical level, the most useful selection I have ever made.

I know that when you told me that there’s no situation you can’t physically carry me away from, it’s the safest I have ever felt.

I know that you were lying when you said it was still true when I was heavily pregnant with our daughter, and it meant just as much.

I know that when they told us that the first year of marriage would be the hardest, they weren’t chuffing joking.

I know that we survived that year and all it threw at us – my panic disorder, our collective career-related nightmares – because we tackled it together.

I know that Japan will always hold a special place in our hearts because we went there during that time. We listened to Life’s a Happy Song from The Muppets soundtrack over and over again as we travelled around, because we’re super cool people, and because it gave us hope.

I know that marriage is about helping each other be the best we can be.

I know that you’re never going to be someone who puts a finished toilet roll straight into the recycling bin, and I accept that about you.

I know that I’m never going to be someone who lets a simple domestic foible go without writing about it on the Internet, and it’s good of you to accept that about me, too.

I know that having a baby has made me need you so much that it scares me.

I know we’ve been together for 13 years, but I still get excited when I receive a text from you.

I know that your idea of watching a film is pressing play and sitting still for two hours.

I know that my idea of watching a film is pressing play and then walking from room to room completing 897 domestic activities, and then sitting down and falling asleep.

I know that no matter what I’m going through, if I talk to you about it, I’ll feel better.

I know that marriage means knowing when to step up. When I had a panic attack at Heathrow airport on our way to Australia, you told me I could go home if I wanted to – even though you really didn’t want me to. And when, 12 hours later, we were stranded at Hong Kong airport and you were worried you wouldn’t make it to Sydney in time for work, I got us onto a flight. Because your feelings are valid, and so are mine.

I know that the love we feel for our daughter is unconditional and that our love for each other is not.

I know that realising this, and the shift we felt when this small human being took pole position in our lives, will only make us work harder at the marriage that brought her to us.

I know we’ve realised that it’s best for everyone that the period of time when a couple plans a wedding doesn’t go on forever.

I know that it’s not healthy for my entire sense of self-worth to come from the fact that you love me.

I know that I owe myself a lot more credit than that.

I know that, now that we have a baby, we have to help each other make time to be ourselves. To go to the gym, to see our friends, to write – making space in our lives to be who we are, is a two person job now.

I know that it was a privilege to crumble alongside you beneath the weight of responsibility we’d not quite prepared for on the day our daughter was born.

I know that we’re doing all we can to become the parents she deserves.

I know that if we believed in ourselves as much as we believe in each other, we wouldn’t have a single thing in this world to fear.

I know that during my speech on our wedding day I said that as long as we’re together everything will be OK.

I know that I was right about that.

Want to restore your faith in humanity? Go to a wedding

Leave a Comment

20160625_132441I didn’t think I was going to write anything today.

Ever since the news came on Friday morning that Britain had voted to leave the EU, I’ve been wandering around my house like a lost soul. I’ve been behaving like I’ve just been dumped – stress-eating chocolate, staring at the wall whilst hot water runs over my head in the shower, and feeling like every song I hear on the radio is about it, in some way. The world seemed so topsy-turvy that I thought “Sod it” and bought a punnet of ripen-at-home nectarines, despite the practically built-in assumption that they won’t ripen, they’ll just stay rock hard for two weeks, soften for an hour, and then turn green. As luck would have it, they’ve actually come up lovely and now sit on my kitchen unit as a little symbol of hope.

I didn’t think I’d blog today because I was worried that my usual subject matter – relationships, confidence, and generally trying to get around without falling over – would seem too trivial at a time of such uncertainty. And then I went to a wedding and realised that just isn’t true.

I sat in a church yesterday and watched two lovely people get married. I went to their reception and listened as the people they love said wonderful things about them. I heard about guests who had travelled to be there, I saw people who didn’t know each other making friends, and I cried – like I always do – as the groom told a room full of people how much he loves his wife.

It’s hard not to feel optimistic in this kind of setting. Because relationships are everything. They’re how we learn to care about other people. They teach us how much luck is involved with how somebody comes to be the person that they are. And they help us realise that without compassion, love and understanding, we’re going to end up alone.

Everybody you see at a wedding wants the best for the bride and groom. That’s why they’re there. It’s why they’ve given up a whole day for it, why they’ve got dressed up smartly, and why, in many cases, they’ve decided to wear heels for 12 hours straight. You don’t do something like that lightly.

We’re all capable of doing amazing things for the people we love. We don’t think twice about it – they’re part of us so we give them our time, our ears, and, if we’re feeling particularly generous, perhaps even one of our Percy Pigs.

And in my view, the world works best when we want the best for other people too – even if they’re not on our Christmas card list, or from around here. When we’re able to look beyond the people in our immediate lives and see human faces that deserve just as much safety and joy as everybody else.

I’m deeply concerned that such a huge amount of the propaganda and rhetoric being shared of late has positioned certain people and areas of society as ‘other’, as a problem to be removed. No good has ever come of such a viewpoint and I’m startled to see it spreading so far and wide.

I’ve always said that I don’t use this blog to talk about politics but, really, politics is just about people – together we decide what kind of world we want to live in. I consider myself to be an observer of people. I notice stuff and I write it down. And what I’m seeing horrifies me. Usually there’s a bit of humour in it but I’m struggling to find any of this funny, except in its absurdity.

So maybe talking about relationships isn’t so trivial after all. Because without them, what are we? Just individual people, living our lives and not giving a damn about anybody else? I’m no expert but I don’t think that is going to work.

I’m nervous about what is to come, what the future has in store. But for now I will hold on tight to the optimism I felt at yesterday’s wedding, and to the knowledge that love and unity will always win over division.

Marriage, sometimes

2 Comments

Sometimes he’ll accidentally throw a loo roll down the toilet and she won’t understand what…how did you… they’re so expens…just pop it in the bin.

Sometimes, a couple of days later, she’ll hurl a sock in the toilet instead of the laundry basket, and they’ll call it even.

Sometimes she’ll break her ‘no food in the bedroom’ rule and devour a whole bag of Maltesers on top of the duvet.

Sometimes he’ll find the empty red packet on the floor and resist the temptation to start a discussion about double standards.

Sometimes he’ll go out drinking so much ahead of her 30th birthday that he has to leave her party early to go home and nurse his aching throat.

Sometimes she’ll keep partying, force him out of bed at 3am to let her in the house, and they’ll call that even too.

Sometimes he’ll buy her a new fancy laptop to prove how much he believes in her writing (and to make her weekly exclamations of MY F***ING LAPTOP IS RUINING MY LIFE stop).

Sometimes she’ll cry when she remembers that he did that.

Sometimes she’ll fall asleep on the sofa until 4 o’clock in the morning, after promising she would go to bed in a minute.

Sometimes he’ll come downstairs to get her, and decide not to let the tirade of abuse that comes when he disturbs her hurt his feelings.

Sometimes she’ll get sunstroke, or food poisoning, or eat something that’s too ‘wheaty’ and turn into a quivering, vomiting, moany mess.

Sometimes he’ll use a VERY FIRM tone to tell her that if she doesn’t drink all of the water she needs to rehydrate then she’ll have to go to hospital (and then explain later that that’s just what he sounds like when he’s scared).

Sometimes he’ll show her a clip of a big kick or some good running that a rugby person did.

Sometimes she’ll make the right face to make him believe that she knows why she should be impressed.

Sometimes she’ll manage to figure out the answer to the 8 out of 10 Cats Does Countdown numbers game within the assigned 30 second period.

Sometimes he’ll look at her like she’s the cleverest person in the world.

Sometimes he’ll suggest going out for sushi instead of cooking food at home.

Sometimes she’ll think – this right here is exactly why I married you.

Sometimes he’ll look at her, panicked and say “I am in no way prepared for our anniversary tomorrow. I’m going into town and may be gone for some time.”

Sometimes she’ll look at him and think – it doesn’t matter. I’d still choose you.

Every single time.

Anniversaries: The more the merrier

Leave a Comment
IMG_20140908_161915-1024x1024

Anniversaries are good for you. I’m pretty sure any doctor would back me up.

Remembering the date on which nice things happened and taking the time to look back and say “Well, wasn’t that a good day” and having a cake or a pork pie to celebrate doesn’t do anybody any harm.

The only problem is that for those of us whose brains are unnecessarily good at remembering the exact date on which things take place, the anniversary calendar can get a little over populated.

I get that celebrating nine years since my husband and I first discovered that we both enjoy Jaffa Cakes does seem a little unnecessary but who doesn’t love an excuse to binge on a box of those? And why is it that Clinton Cards doesn’t sell “Happy first trip to IKEA together-aversary” cards? Now I come to think of it, it’s probably because most couples don’t make it past that point…

On Monday of last week, it was nine years since my husband said “Erm, so are you my girlfriend then?” and I – unaware that this would be the very (first and) last time that these words would ever be said to me replied “I guess I am”. A momentous occasion, I’m sure you’ll agree.

But now that we’re married and have a grown up wedding anniversary to celebrate (which was only a few weeks ago) this date has been removed from the ‘important dates on which we must leave the house and say nice things to each other’ calendar. I feel robbed.

But I get why it’s gone. Two anniversaries in a month is a lot of admin for one couple to take on, a lot of restaurants to book, a lot of cards to write, a lot of champagne infused burps to hold back. So we’ve agreed to go all out each year for the wedding one, and just to high five to mark the other. (And if I want to open a bottle of bubbles just for me then that’s my decision *stumbles*).

People’s memories work in different ways. Some remember things by smell or by taste or by the music that was playing, and I remember things according to the precise date and time at which they happened. It’s just unfortunate that my way makes me sound like a stalker.

And it’s not just limited to relationship stuff either. I happen to know that this week marks ten years since my now best friend and I became chums. I can’t send her a card for that because she will think that I am insane. Similarly, it is a fact that on my birthday it was 29 years since I first met my mum. Why am I the only one who gets a present? She really did put all the effort into the occasion.

And let’s not forget that the more anniversaries you celebrate the more excuses you have to eat and drink whatever you like. Fancy throwing down a full bag of Percy Pigs? Well, why not, it is two years since you and your boyfriend realised that they are far superior to Fizzy Pig Tails. Feel the need to consume an entire block of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut? Well, with it being six months since you had to explain to your other half that although, yes, the sofa is brown leather, melted chocolate does still show up on it, I’d say you deserve it.

Life is tiring and complicated and involves far too few holidays for my liking, so we’ve got to find fun wherever we can. So if there happens to be a date in the diary that gives you an excuse to send a card or an email or affectionate thumbs up to somebody you’re pleased to know then I say take it.

You’re basically giving another human being an excuse to go out and buy themselves a cake and how could that ever be a bad thing?

9 ways to decide who you should marry

2 Comments
IMG_1236

Every couple should have at least one day of the year that they don’t waste fannying about on the internet.

And for us that day is today: our very first wedding anniversary.

But because I’m dedicated to this blog of mine (and a master of holiday packing avoidance) I wrote this week’s post in advance of our anniversary trip.

I’ve been thinking about this one for a while, about what this year has taught me. And aside from the fact that being referred to as ‘Mrs’ makes you feel at least 20 years older and that changing your surname results in more trips to the Post Office than any human should have to endure, the main lesson I’ve learnt is what marriage is all about: getting on extremely well with another human being, regardless of what life throws at you.

So to celebrate the fact that we’ve managed to get along for a whole year, I thought I’d share what I think it takes to do just that. Because what could be more romantic than a good checklist?

1. Marry somebody who feels the same about the apostrophe as you do. That sh*t will tear you apart.

2. Marry somebody who is willing to move train carriage just because the dude behind you is tapping his foot like an inconsiderate MORON. It’s crucial that you share the same level of hatred for strangers.

3. Marry someone who doesn’t judge you for binge consuming crisps/doughnuts/fried egg sweets. (And who understands that BINGERS DO NOT SHARE.)

4. Marry somebody you enjoy sitting in silence with.  Marriage is at least 50% silence (eating, sleeping, staring at your phone) so you might as well make it comfortable.

5. Marry somebody who takes a different route to work from you. Everybody hates couples who commute together. Don’t be those people.

6. Marry a person who understands that just because they see you in pyjamas more frequently than actual clothes, it doesn’t mean you’re not still a hugely attractive and sexual being. You just also happen to enjoy wearing comfortable waistbands.

7. Marry somebody whose bath water you’re happy to share. What are you – made of money?

8. Marry somebody you can still fancy after seeing them throw up. Wedding vows do not protect you from food poisoning, as I found out ON OUR HONEYMOON.

9. Marry somebody you like very much. Forever is a long time.

Now, I’d better get on with my packing. And seeing as it’s such a special occasion, I may even leave my pyjamas at home.

Six ways to tell that you’re no longer newlyweds

1 Comment

1. People no longer congratulate you for getting married
The world has moved on. If people say congratulations to you now it’s because they’re astounded that you’ve managed to show up on time, or they like your choice of cardigan or because you’ve managed to clean your teeth without spilling any on your clothes (an achievement very much deserving of applause). And if they do congratulate you for having a spouse, it’s not for marrying them in the first place, but the fact that – in spite of your passive aggressive approach to deciding whose turn it is to take the bin out – you’ve managed to keep hold of them for a whole nine months since.

2. You haven’t been given a new piece of crockery for months 
When you first get married you can’t move for plates, vases and ramekins laced with kind wishes for your future happiness from your nearest and dearest (as well as, in the latter item’s case, a legitimate excuse to eat nothing but chocolate mousse until your first anniversary). But the gifts have to stop some time. How many snack bowls can one couple realistically own? And when they do, you realise that you’re now going to responsible for replacing each and every one after you inevitably overfill the dishwasher and break them. It’s just a matter of time.

3. Remembering your new surname is now just another piece of admin
When you first get married, you can’t say your new surname without giggling. Every poor bastard who has the misfortune to serve you in a bank or a takeaway has to endure the “Oh sorry, it’s just I got married recently and I can’t seem to remember who I am!” banter that you think is hilarious but that they think is tedious. (Though, to be fair, you’d think the people at the takeaway would be on first name terms with me by now. I guess they must just call me: Number 6, 54 and a sticky rice.) But now that you’ve got used to it, your main concern is just getting people to spell it correctly. When my surname was Reeve I’d say: “It’s Reeve like Superman!” And now that I’m Buxton I say: “It’s Buxton like the water!” Because even though I’m married, I am still FUN.

4. The honeymoon period is over
As I said in this post, when you’ve been together for more than eight years, it’s not realistic to expect the honeymoon period to last any longer than the honeymoon itself. You’re under no illusions about what you’ve signed up to – he knows you consume an unhealthy level of processed cheese, you know that he consumes an unhealthy level of ball-based sport – so there are few surprises that married life can bring. And so once you’ve returned from the honeymoon, finished the last of the champagne and changed your name on Facebook, it’s not long before you’re back to discussing whether there’s room for a toilet roll holder in the downstairs bathroom. (Unfortunately the answer is no but I think our marriage is strong enough to get through this.)

5. Millions of other people have got married since you did 
Despite what you might believe when you’re planning the wedding and swearing you’re the first person in the entire world to ask your guests to place the cards they’ve kindly written for you into a vintage birdcage (even though you saw the idea on Pinterest), you are not the only person to have come up with the idea of getting married. And though it might be tempting to show up at other people’s weddings wearing your own gown, just to prove that it still fits, please don’t. Paying to have that thing dry-cleaned twice would be madness.

6. People have even stopped asking when you’re going to have children
When you first get married, people feel a strange compulsion to ask when you’re going to start a family. Heaven forbid you should just enjoy the first few months of married life in front of the television with a bag of cheese puffs – no, you must start creating miniature versions of yourself, post-haste! But after a few months, they stop asking. And it’s either because they realise that the inner workings of your marital affairs is actually quite a personal subject, or everybody’s just got distracted by the World Cup. Either way, enjoy the silence while it lasts and get tucking into those cheesy snacks. Something tells me you’ve got just the bowl for them.

How’s married life? Exactly the same.

Leave a Comment

Charlotte and Leon 2013_ Ceremony Photograph _68Aside from “When are you going to have a baby?”, “Are you pregnant yet?” and “Will you name your firstborn after me?”, “How’s married life?” is the question I get asked most frequently.

I don’t know what people think will happen when you get married but, in my case at least, it hasn’t changed anything at all. Sure, I got a new surname and now spend most of the day trying to remember what I’m called, and I had a ring put on my finger that has to stay there forever or the world with explode (or something like that) but otherwise things are just as they were before.

But that’s a good thing. And here’s why:

1. That’s why you got married in the first place
Getting married means: I want to be with you as I know you for the rest of my life. It doesn’t mean: marry me and then immediately change into somebody else to help keep things interesting. The fact that you get to spend your life with somebody exactly as you find them (with perhaps just a few small wardrobe improvements) is one of the main reasons marriage is so popular. There’s that, the fact that you no longer have to pretend to like nightclubs, and knowing that there will always be someone there to help you take the bin out.

2. You’ll face enough change together as it is 
Life is full of surprises – some of them good, such as the release of Cadbury’s Pebbles (have you tried them? They’re delicious) and some of them bad, like when Coronation Street gets cancelled because of sport. But that’s OK because whatever comes up, you’ll take it on as a duo, so the least you can do is remain the one consistent thing in each other’s lives. If you got married, changed into different people and then ITV altered its television schedule, do you really think you could handle it?

3. If you were going to change you’d have done it by now  
Remember all those hours you put in at the start of the relationship? The showers, the shaving, the pretending to be up for watching Transformers when you’d have preferred to just stare at the cinema ticket for two hours instead? Couldn’t keep that up for too long, could you? No, after a few months you settled into being real people – with opinions that differ! And bad habits you refuse to change! Like his inexplicable love for leaving boxer shorts in the middle of the bathroom floor Every. Single. Morning! And if you thought marriage was going to change any of that, I’m afraid that you were mistaken. Marriage changes nothing, it just means there will be somebody there to comment on all of your faults for the rest of your life.

4. It’s OK that you don‘t have any news 
You have to accept that from the moment you said ‘I do’, you became the least interesting people in the world. Whilst the engagement is all “Oh my god!” and “How did he do it?!” and “How many strippers do you want on your hen do?”, your marriage will only spark a reaction if you co-create a human or start asking your friends to put their keys in a bowl when they arrive at your house for a dinner party. So it’s best to just take advantage of those first few months – sit back, relax and enjoy being out of the limelight. And if the only news you have to share is that you’ve started watching Modern Family or that you’ve discovered that ten is the optimum number of marshmallows to have with a hot chocolate, then so be it.

So if you want to have an interesting conversation with a newly-wed, don’t ask them what married life’s like, ask them what’s good on telly at the moment or what snacks they can recommend – they’ll have so much more to say. And if you think you can see a bump forming around her middle, I recommend checking the bin for sweet wrappers before putting yourself forward as a namesake.

15 post wedding resolutions I have already broken

Leave a Comment
15 post-wedding resolutions I have already broken

1. Don’t use the fact that I wrote every single one of our wedding gift thank you cards against him.

2. When he says he’ll fill the dishwasher, let him. Don’t just do it myself because I don’t believe he’ll load it correctly.

3. Refrain from mentioning that all I can think about is getting home and putting on my pyjamas whilst out on date nights.

4. No longer bring up his domestic failings late at night when he is trying to go to sleep.

5. Stop mentioning that he lost my phone charger. And that sharing one between us is annoying. And that the fact that I could easily just stop being a baby and go out and buy a new one is NOT. THE. POINT.

6. Stay awake until at least 10.30pm on a Saturday evening.

7. No longer use sighing as a method of communication.

8. Don’t be offended because he’d rather play FIFA 14 than look through the wedding photographs.

9. Don’t threaten annulment just because he refuses to listen to Magic FM during dinner.

10. Spend evenings having conversations instead of just watching Mock The Week and Have I Got News For You reruns and falling asleep.

11. Avoid using sarcasm to express annoyance that the laundry basket is overflowing e.g. “You know what I love? Having a pile of laundry that is exactly the same height as me. It’s like living with ART.”

12. At least pretend to be open to the idea of leaving the house on a Sunday.

 13. Don’t use my new status as his wife as an excuse to bin all his boxer shorts that I don’t like.

14. Or let a blog post be the way that he finds out that I’ve done it.

15. Be a nicer person.

10 things that should not happen during your first three months of marriage

Leave a Comment

10 things that should not happen during your first three months of marriage1. You get a sore throat that makes your voice deeper than his.

2. You get new blinds. Because when people ask what’s new with you, the answer is that you got new blinds. Nobody cares about your blinds.

3. You discover that one of the walls in your flat is riddled with damp and that you’re going to have to rip out your entire kitchen to fix it. Some of the dust might get on the blinds.

4. You find a wall of mould behind your wardrobe, that all your clothes are covered in mould and that if you’d just opened the chuffing window every once in a while this never would have happened.

5. You discuss the damp and mould situation over email and text message. I understand some people are into sexting; the only photographs we’ve sent each other recently are of dehumidifiers.

6. You spend more time speaking to British Gas about your temperamental boiler than to each other.

7. You fail to notice that your prescription for The Pill is running out, have to spend a week without it, and turn into an, albeit short-term, psychopath.

8. You develop a daily craving for boiled eggs and soldiers and start every post-work conversation with an update on the gooey-ness of that morning’s breakfast. He is not interested.

9. You get a water bill. Nobody deserves a water bill.

10. You’re forced to say “Well, thank goodness the wedding is over!” when you discover how much cash you have to spend on all of the above. Eggs don’t come cheap, you know.

What it’s like to… go on your honeymoon

2 Comments

IMG_5085What DO people do on their honeymoon? Do newly-weds really all look the same? In desperate pursuit of a new blog post format, I have conducted an interview with myself to find out the answers to all the big honeymoon questions. My effort at least should be appreciated.

Charlotte, good to see you, and may I say, what excellent hair. 
Why thank you, it’s just dry shampoo and two whacks of the hairbrush.
Well, it’s working for you. So, where did you go for the big H. M?
What?
Your honeymoon.
Oh, right. You do know it’s just one word don’t you?
Yeah, course…
Cool…. We went to Bali, Gili Trawangan and Lombok which are all in Indonesia.
Lovely. And were you surrounded by other people on their honeymoon, and forced to feel like getting married was the most generic, predictable thing you could have done?
There were a few around but lots of other people too. Newly-weds are easy to spot – they have very shiny wedding rings that have not yet been tarnished by normal things like cooking or toilet duck; she tends to have freshly manicured nails; and they both look exhausted. That ain’t jet-lag, that’s wed-lag.
I see what you did there, and I like it. So did you give the new surname a test drive whilst you were there?
Oh yes, and it was the perfect opportunity to try out my new signature too – every bicycle hired and fruity mocktail had to be signed for. I think I’ve nailed it now if you want to see?
Oh, that won’t be necessary; I’ve seen a signature before. And what sort of things did you do there?  
Well, aside from the usual sunbathing and whatnot we went to a bird park, saw reptiles, swam in a waterfall, visited a monkey forest, had a surfing lesson… [Charlotte interrupts]
HA! Sorry, I’m just imagining you on a surf board. Hahaha! 
Look, I can prove it *shows above photograph*. I even managed to stand up on the board, I’ll thank you.
No, thank YOU. So have you got any other, sorry, any funny stories from your trip?
Well, not so much funny but I did get a dose of food poisoning, or ‘Bali Belly’ as the guide book calls it, which saw all my bridal serenity go right down the toilet.
Ooh another pun, we are on fire today. That sounds nasty, did you lose much time?
Just a day, thankfully. On the plus side, I got to hear my husband refer to me as his wife a lot. He kept ringing reception to say things like: “My wife’s unwell, please can we have more water?” or “My wife would like a biscuit,” or “Please can I order a pizza? No, it’s for me, I think my wife’s asleep.”
Every cloud, eh. And did you stay in nice places and have the full five star experience?
Oh yes, when in Rome!
Sorry, I thought you said you went to Bali?
We did… Yes, we stayed in lovely places. In one hotel, they’d come into our room when we were out having dinner and leave surprises, like a honeymoon cake or a bath towel rolled into the shape of a duck.
A duck? Wow, that is impressive. A quacking idea, you might say.
No I wouldn’t, I like my puns a little more subtle.
Whatever… So tell me, did you find it hard to leave or were you ready to come home?
Oh no, I really didn’t want to come back – why would I? There’s no way our normal lives could be as good as the honeymoon. It’s all downhill from here.
Well that’s a lovely note to end on. Thank you Charlotte, and good luck with the marriage!
Cheers Charlotte, and to you with the writing gig. Someone should definitely give you a book deal.