Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

 

Frenemy

Thursday, March 11th, 2010

Let’s take a break from children and talk about friends …the adult variety. I got all flaky on myself this weekend and threw a copy of Psychologies into my shopping trolley. I read it cover to cover and found it quite disturbing that I have reached the age that I can devour a self-discovery magazine with as much relish as I once poured over Hello. The article that got my attention though, was not the one on saving my relationship but the one on breaking up friendships.

When you have a child, the dynamics of friendship change completely … as does your relationship with your partner and yourself … But that’s not really what I want to talk about here, mainly because I inadvertently brought a child into the article.

I want to talk about a great friend of mine. Well, she used to be a great friend of mine until she discarded me and made me question myself and the reasons she felt I wasn’t ‘good enough’ to be her friend anymore. What I discovered was that it had nothing to do with who I am and everything to do with what I did. I changed the dynamics of our relationship.

Our friendship I thought was based on a strong bond that revolved around common goals, interests and the fact that we had similar aged children (there I go again). We were somehow always there for each other and discussed problems over tea, coffee, sushi, anything going, almost every week. What I only realised once the friendship was over and she claimed she needed to create some space in her life was that all the problems we had discussed were hers.

And the reason the friendship ended? Well, it was my fault entirely. I asked her advice one day about a big problem in my life. I changed the dynamics of the friendship and broke our contract. I made it about me and that wasn’t the deal.

‘Don’t scratch an itching dog’

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

An expression I heard used when I investigated having the rust scraped out of my car – because once you start scratching, you have to keep on going.

So what happens when you start to itch? Do you scratch or do you let it lie?

Or do you just sell the damn car?

Relation-shapes

Monday, March 8th, 2010

A relationship is point to point – a three-dimensional line that grows or shrinks according to moods and swings. Add a baby and you add another line. You have a triangle: a love triangle.

There is no greater or more complex love triangle than the one created by having a baby.

Someone is always left out and there is a massive amount of attention grabbing … usually from dad who can’t bear the sight of ‘his’ boobs being used as a dairy, and often from junior who, like the dog, pushes in during an embrace.

No matter how strong the lines are – the individuals who make up the triangle – the points of the triangle are likely to wear over time … and very often they just snap.

But sometimes you have to break the points to notice how the individual lines can be stronger than the shape they make up.

You can’t have your cake and eat it

Monday, September 7th, 2009

A new friend is a friend out of our connection over the lack of any real need to have children. I am known to her boyfriend as the evil one as he is determined to have kids (to the point of dumping her if it doesn’t happen). I suppose it is unfair of me to try and dissuade her as there are things that can be done to pre-empt any of the crap that enters your relationship when having a baby. There are practical tricks and tactics that can be deployed.

For example:
discussing expectations of parenthood;
defining a budget for things such as a night nurse;
planning logistics around routine and responsibilities;
looking at the potential need to move in order to accommodate a child;
balancing work and social commitments and sacrifices;
counselling sessions before even trying to fall pregnant.

You can’t have it all. We want it all – I suppose that is normal … what makes us human. But having something always comes at the cost of giving up something else. And perhaps that should be fine. Having a baby costs. We can’t expect to keep everything of what we were before having a baby … and have the baby too.

No degrees for separation

Friday, July 17th, 2009

Relationships are based on what you have in common, and you stay together as long as you maintain some element of that. Then, just like that, you suddenly realise that there is something to disagree on … something big, huge in fact … and it was never there before. Not only that, but it is never going away. It’s your own child.

People have babies for many reasons – one of them to glue the relationship back together – when, in fact, there is a greater chance that it might pull it further apart. Since my child was somewhat a surprise to me, I am obviously not referring to myself here. I am sure though that everyone knows at least one couple – at least one – that has split because they thought a child would be the answer and they failed to look at the real reasons their relationship was failing.

Isn’t it ironic …?

Friday, May 8th, 2009

I worked to the point of obsession (me and Gina) to promote independence and a sense of self. I ensured that my child would be in bed every night be 7 p.m. so that my husband and I could have time … adult time. My child slept in his cot from day one and only slept in our bed on occasion during daytime sleeps and very rarely at night if he was too sick and we were too tired to attend to him (up and down the spiral staircase!). It’s not easy following such a strict routine but it pays off when your child responds and never gets between you in bed.

Well, that was the idea.

Despite all efforts, he came between us anyway … not physically but emotionally. He is always there. And there remain so many unspoken conversations about how we both feel in our new identities as parents. Being a parent is a vulnerable and fragile time and it is often not treated with the respect it deserves. I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a lover, a writer, a patient, a client, a consultant, an employer, a dog owner, a Beetle driver, a shoe lover, an optimist, a runner, a breather … and so much more, I could risk running out of blog space. But when I added mother to this list, it tipped the scales, and balance is something I have been seeking ever since. I find it so difficult to switch and juggle a multi-faceted personality … but only when I am in the role as mother. My new persona takes so much from the old ones and it’s difficult enough trying to deal with those stats when you’re also playing out a guilt trip about what your new role is draining from your partner’s other personas. You whine and moan about not getting enough space when it’s just the two of you … but when there’s three, space is the one thing you could happily do without.

Does he know he’s getting between us? Of course not. I used to tell him he was ruining my life … and he developed a sense of humour. Now, I giggle with him all day and deal with the other stuff when he’s gone to bed.

Discomfort Zone

Thursday, September 11th, 2008

Remember the first time you farted in front of your partner? Remember when it became quite normal to sit on the toilet with the door open? Remember when things just got way too comfortable? It all happened slowly, with years of time to adjust.

And then you have a baby together and you will never see each other in the same light … ever again. There’s, oh so much more dignity in performing your daily ablutions in front of your partner than there is caring for a baby.

Welcome to my Flower Chamber

Tuesday, August 19th, 2008

There is a matriarchal tribe in China called the Masuo. They don’t believe in marriage and having babies in a relationship. They believe in flower chambers and love and desire. These women choose who gets invited to their flower chambers and who will give them their baby seed. They raise their children with the males in their immediate families and there is no need to either settle or settle down with anyone for any indefinite amount of time.

If I wasn’t before, I am now totally into cultural diversity. What a healthy outlook. Why limit yourself and stunt your spiritual growth by having to constantly work around the needs of another. Selfish, perhaps, but definitely healthy. Simple rules, simple pleasures and realistic expectations.

I have waited a long time for things in our relationship to get back to normal post baby. But, when normal has shifted, how long does one have to wait to find it again. When everything has changed, how does one ever go back to being the same?

Perhaps our individual priorities have shifted in such a way that we will never be the same individually and, therefore, never the same together.

Love on the merry-go-round

Tuesday, August 12th, 2008

“I’d have more children if I didn’t have a husband”, says a mother of four.

This may be because there is just not enough love to go around … after all, when you run out of love … Who do you love more? The man you have been with—seemingly for an eternity—who has ‘gotten used to you’ or the child who has just rocked up in your life and ‘needs you more than you will ever know’.

This tiny little human who has stolen its mother’s every waking moment, and every last drop of effort and energy usurps your husband’s position and deprives him of a little bit of your love.

It transpires that something’s gotta give when there just ain’t enough love to go around. In my case, the fairground attraction ended when my husband, used to a high dose of merry-go-round, had to make do with the swings. Back and forth didn’t do it for him; he went tummy-butterfly cold turkey and ditched the fair completely.

Aaaaanyway, fair or not, he suffered without his full dose, dished out a fair amount of rejection and lost a fair amount of passion in the deal. The baby ended up getting all the love for a while … and the husband is only just managing to function on his reduced dosage.

More shocking honesty

Wednesday, August 8th, 2007

It’s a sex thing

The few post-child-sex stories you hear revolve around a man’s rejection; his needs not being satisfied by the new woman in his life … the woman with engorged breasts that cannot be fondled, the woman who doesn’t put his needs first, the woman who is ratty, hormonal and with whom he is now expected to share his bed. I sympathise with this man, I really do.

But what about the man who uses this sympathy to convince himself that it’s OK to not want his wife. He wanted the child so desperately that there was bound to be an anti-climax … he sure didn’t buy into any of this. I actually sympathise with this man too.

There is so much at play here. But the bottom line is that the sex thing gets in the way of unraveling all the expectations and disappointments. I felt that all I wanted was sex and all my husband wanted was sex with someone else. The thing is, we both just wanted sex. The only difference was that my problem with sex was physical: my husband’s purely emotional.

Back in the saddle

Wednesday, August 8th, 2007

99.9% immune to another bout of pregnancy, I was back in the saddle.

Or so I thought …

You’re advised to hold off on sex until the six-week check-up. This is no short period when your sleep is constantly disturbed and weeks feel like months. And when you think you will never again be the owner of your breasts, let alone your body, you need your partner to flip you over and take you before you and your baby merge to become part of the same collective.

But things need to heal before you can ride again.

And so I waited. I waited until my gynae told me I was good to go. And once I was good to go, every spare moment was used to the max to wax and clip and preen and sheen. Leaving nothing to chance, I even pre-selected the perfect condom for my much-anticipated night of sordid sexcapades.

Nothing could have prepared me for what ensued. It was a complete non-event; only the tip of the condom got any action that night. I wanted to believe it was nerves or even the onset of frigidity … but the thing is, if you’re breast-feeding (and this is not meant to be an advert for formula-feeding), your hormones are the only things getting screwed and your ‘koek’ is as tight and dry as an 80-year-old’s.