Duvet Wars

It's time for the Duvet War

And I want to have more

Than you

The problem is

You want more too

Image from harrycorry.com

The weather here is freezing tonight

And in our sleep we start the fight

I wake up and my left side is cold

Because you, my one true love,  have rolled

And gripped the duvet between your thighs

I shiver and wish it was King-Size

I tug the corner

But it’s stuck tight

And you are out, just like a light

All toasty, sleeping like a log

Dreaming merrily in our 10 tog

I pull hard and wake you

But I don't care

This is Duvet Wars 

And you must share!

Get the Balance Right

I had a great time catching up with some friends and former colleagues at a conference yesterday.  We spoke a lot about our families and when it came to the women who had children, we reflected on how it had felt to return to work and the impact it'd had (and was still having) on our families overall.  As a group of women, we were in a fortunate position; well paid, in jobs that stretched us intellectually and able to contribute to the emotional, financial, and practical aspects of family life.  We talked about the way in which being able to support yourself increases your sense of self-esteem but also the challenges that come when you have two parents that are working.  Who does pick up and drop off?  Who collects the kids if they're ill?  How do you make sure you're present for each other, your children, friends, wider family - yourself even - when you feel like you're pulled in a hundred directions?  

We talked too about how our partners and husbands felt, how it is for them and how much choice they feel they have when it comes to how much time they dedicate to work and family.  In some instances, they have less.

Do I stay or do I go?

When considering my career, I made a definite choice to remain in the corporate world until after I had children. This was in part because I was enjoying the lifestyle and opportunities the job afforded, but also because the maternity benefit offered by my employer was first-class: six months on full pay. I heard a rumour that there was an employer offering twelve months on full pay, but they were in the automotive industry and I didn't know squat about cars. Still don't.

Life-changing events

I asked my husband the other day what he would have done if he'd have been offered access to that kind of benefit.  Unsurprisingly he said of course he would have taken it.  The thing is, for most men, the only way they can get that level of paid leave is for a different, and much less positive, kind of life-changing event: having a terrible accident, a nervous breakdown, or becoming seriously ill.

Getting the balance right

I know plenty of couples where the woman earns more than her partner. Couples where it would have made practical and financial sense for dad to stay home with the children (and where this is the option they would have preferred) but whose employers offered something measly like one week of paid leave on top of their statutory entitlement. Hardly enough time to get used to changing a nappy without getting pee'd on...

Shared parental leave

Come April 2015, there will be a small step in redressing the balance with the advent of Shared Parental Leave (https://www.gov.uk/shared-parental-leave-and-pay/overview) but let's face it, statutory pay doesn't scratch the surface when it comes to paying the bills. What I'd be really interested to see is employers who are currently offering generous maternity packages considering making these available to their male workforce. It would take some doing but given that organisations already need to consider the requirements of adoptive and same-sex couples perhaps it could become a reality.

And if it did happen - would it make any difference?  Would we see an exodus of dads from the workplace and mums going back to work more rapidly?  Would either of these be a bad thing? There's only one way to find out - I wonder who will be brave enough to go first.  And if you know a business that is going first - let me know!

Soundtrack: Get the balance right - Depeche Mode 

Footnote - a shortened version of this post can be found on my LinkedIn page.

Marry Me

Marry me
Take me in
Know my sin
Be my charm
Safe from harm
Marry me

Marry me
Take my hand
Wear our band
Seal our bond
To beyond
Marry me

Marry me
Kiss my lips
Trace the tips
Mine to yours
Distant shores
Marry me

Marry me
And we shine
Souls combine
Time is still
If you will
Marry me

You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

As a teenager, one of the hot topics for me and my girlfriends was whether your boyfriend would say "I love you."  It was a very keenly contested prize and something that caused us to ceaselessly badger our boyfriends for confirmation that they did indeed 'love' us.  Nevermind that they wouldn't hold our hand in public, preferred playing computer games to being with us, or had only decided to go out with us as a means of not being left out when their mate brought his girlfriend to the park.  

The words 'I love you' were quite enough to sustain us in a state of bliss at having a boy whose balls hadn't quite dropped saying it to keep you quiet. It was something that could never be trumped, until one of my friends presented us with her boyfriend who not only said "I love you", but also had a car.  We stepped back in awe and allowed her to bask in the twin glories of romance and transport.

Back then, when days were spent imagining what our signature would be if we were to marry one of our idols, and when being bought a cuddly Garfield holding a heart was the height of romantic gestures, I'm not sure what we thought love was actually about.  Given that until then our experience of love was that of our families, how were we to learn about 'grown up' love?  We took our cues from our parents, Clinton Cards, Neighbours (oh how I wished for the Charlene and Scott wedding!) and perhaps ill-advisedly from Dear Deirdre's Photo Casebook in The Sun, which positioned stockings and suspenders as either the cause of, or solution for, all relationship issues.  If it wasn't the husband being caught with someone in suspenders who wasn't his wife, then the wife was in her suspenders with a man who wasn't her husband.  Very occasionally the husband had them on.  Marriages were built and destroyed by them.  Why no-one ever wore a nice comfy pair of tights I don't know.

Love, love, love

Fast forward a bit and 'I love you' is used more sparingly, and meaningfully.  What may have begun as a mass of hearts and flowers, or a setting down of friendship roots that took time to bloom into love, has mellowed into something more familiar that ebbs and flows and continues to grow at a more leisurely pace.  Not easy and not always exciting, but not taken for granted either.  Grown up love has to withstand the daily grind of washing-up, putting out the bins and too much time in each other's company.  The ceaseless sweeping of floors and petty annoyances of toothpaste in the sink and clothes on the floor.  But that's ok because the moments that stand out shine all the more brightly.  And for me at least those moments are not when the words 'I love you' are uttered.  Sometimes it's a look (like the way my friend Lucy looked at her husband on their wedding day as he wept during the speeches - check out 'The Look of Love' in the book), or holding hands in bed at night.  Sometimes it's being hugged fiercely as you let out great heaving sobs, sometimes it's about really being listened to.  Sometimes it's about bloody well biting your tongue.

Once I would have chased declarations of love in order to feel secure, felt unloved if I didn't hear those words each day but I guess that's the common ailment of being in love with a vision of love we are sold.  I still like a card, a heartfelt verse, and flowers are never turned down, but my experience of love can't be captured by a bear holding a sign that says 'I love you', it's a bit more grown up than that. 


Soundtrack: You Don't Have to Say You Love Me - Dusty Springfield

Lessons in Love

I am sat in the car with two four-year-olds and two seven-year-olds and they are discussing love.  They get on to the topic of marriage and one of the children says:

"Women and men get married."

To which one of the others replies: "Yes, and did you know that men can marry men, and women can marry women?"

Everyone confirms that they do know this and so the conversation switches to Power Rangers and who's daddy has got the smelliest bottom or something equally important.

Some weeks later I am at a church hall at the end of a Scout parade (a parade that one of my children took part in - I don't just hang out at these things!), the hall is full so I stand in the reception area and amongst all the posters advertising cake sales for charity and services for families and children, there's a publication called the 'Pro-Life Times' which has a headline screaming words to the effect that damage on an unspeakable scale will happen to children if they are taught in schools that equal marriage is ok.

As someone who is not homophobic and as a person who believes strongly that women should have control over their own bodies and reproduction, I am not 'Pro-Life's' target demographic.  I respect everyone's right to their own opinion and freedom of speech,  but what astonished me most about the leading article of this paper was that it assumed children need to be taught what love is; that they wouldn't already know.  It also assumed that everyone in the church and their entire network of friends and family are straight...

When my children and their school friends discuss love they're not talking about sexual preferences, ancient laws and institutions, or tax breaks.  They don't feel their moral compasses, or their personal or life-style decisions are threatened by another person's choice of partner, or how they want to demonstrate their commitment to them.  They just see love as something normal and wonderful that is shared between people, and getting married as something that people in love do.  Their conversations are filled with love and light, they are positive and supportive, honest and healthy.

As cheerful as I am, it made me wonder why in a place that focuses so much on acceptance, support and community you could find a publication using the language of fear and shame to influence how our children should be taught about love.  I think they could use a few lessons from the little people.

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Soundtrack: 'Lessons in Love - Level 42'

Doing it for the Kids

I used to think that getting married was just about the couple involved.  You meet each other, fall in love, there's a proposal (or tequila and falling down some stairs whilst attempting a fireman's carry in my case) and the rest of your life awaits.

This has been challenged in recent years as more of my friends and relatives have married after having their children.  Some met in their 30's and prioritised babies over tying the knot, for some an important reason for marrying was to ensure they had the same surname as their children and, more poignantly, some married due to a diagnosis of cancer or to celebrate the great relief of an 'all clear this time' post-cancer check.

In almost every case, and in those where friends and relatives have had their marriages blessed, the children have been part of the ceremony.  They have been ushers, bridesmaids, ring-bearers and generally 'stars of the show'.  My nephew got to sign the register at the wedding of my sister-in-law and her husband.  He was just five at the time and wrote his own place in his family's history - how cool is that?    

My children often ask about our wedding day and we get the photos out and chat a bit about what happened.  There are some things that we leave out - like the half-naked man at the end (thank God it was the top half..), the people in the unlocked bar helping themselves, the 'missing' silver platter that re-surfaced a few years later at a friends buffet, the 'naughty table' who had drinking games as their starter, the person who asked if they could 'crash in our room' because they had forgotten to book one and had run out of money...  The answer to the last one was a resounding "no" accompanied by the throwing of money at the situation - what were they thinking?!.  Let's just say it was a reception at which people got stuck in to the refreshments.  

Around the time of our twelfth wedding anniversary, the conversation came up again and my daughter asked if I still had my wedding dress.  When I said "yes", she pleaded with me until I agreed to get it down from the loft and then (after getting through the two massive boxes and reams of acid-free paper it was stored in) instructed me to put it on.  Not that I minded - I had given up on the idea that either me or the girls would arrange a 'wedding dress party' like the one Monica had in 'Friends', so it was good fun to wear it once again.  And what a laugh we had.  My daughter put on a party dress, my son put on his favourite Spiderman pants (well, what else would a modern Page Boy wear?), they picked up the train and we pranced around the house, up and down stairs and through the kitchen while they chanted "wedding, wedding, wedding".  My husband was bemused although not entirely surprised; being stuck in with the children on a rainy day often results in one of us being dressed up, painted on or 'turned into something' for their amusement.  

Once the children felt suitably entertained, and they had coerced us into showing them our 'first dance' (it was a classic - shuffling round in a circle with one or two twirls to make it look like we were putting in a bit of effort), the dress went back in its boxes and up into the loft.  The shoes were put away and the discussion turned to more important things like 'do babies wear clothes when they're in their mummy's tummy?'.  

Our hour of make-believe was not quite a wedding, or a marriage blessing, but it was a lovely family moment and, if my husband would like to buy me another dress and some more diamonds maybe we'll do it for real.....  Actually I know the answer to that one, better pencil in 'trip up into the loft' for 2024 :)

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Soundtrack:  Kids - Robbie Williams and Kylie Minogue

Will you Recognise me?

Wise words indeed!

How often do you get a 'thank you' for doing the hoovering?  The washing?  Changing the beds?  

A friend of mine refers to these domestic tasks as the 'silent' jobs.  The boring, necessary stuff that has to happen to make a household run but for which you rarely get a 'thank you'.  In most instances it doesn't matter and expecting a round of applause for cleaning the barbeque is taking it a bit far.  But how about for doing the lion's share of bringing up the children?  Surely that's worthy of major recognition.

At work, unless you have a particularly disengaged boss, or your customers are never happy, you're likely to be thanked or rewarded on a fairly regular basis (see 'Paid in Full' for more on that topic).  If you've made (or are planning to make) the switch from working full-time to being at home with the children full-time then this is a significant change and one that I hadn't given any thought to before going on my first period of maternity leave.

Going from an environment where you are encouraged to pursue plaudits and are paid based on your performance, to one where you do something that is arguably more significant but receives less overt recognition is very difficult and wasn't something that was mentioned during the ante-natal classes that I attended.  I think it should be.

It is viewed as the 'right thing to do' to see parents as entirely equal in the upbringing of their children but it would be fairer (and more accurate) to say that the one who stays at home / is at home more, should be given greater credit.  It is a brave man or woman who says to their wife or husband that they have had more influence on the development of their children, but you would never get such daintiness were it two colleagues discussing who had contributed more to a particular project.

Someone who got it right is a very enlightened friend of mine; Nicky.  She saw this coming as she left a successful sales job to have her daughter, and planned to take at least a year off.  She explained to her husband that if he wanted a happy wife, then he needed to make sure he recognised her efforts and achievements, and acknowledged that what she did was just as valid as him dedicating his day to generating the household income.  The net result was as well as the joy that comes with being so involved in your child's early years, she also received acknowledgement and reassurance from the person that she loves that she was (and still is!) doing a brilliant job.

I thought this was such a smart thing to do, and not something that should be restricted to people that are leaving, or putting on hold, a big career.  I think it should be discussed amongst all parents and potential parents.  Our children don't morph into the fantastical people that they become on their own; so why aren't we patting ourselves, and each other, on the back more often?
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Soundtrack: Taken from 'Don't You (Forget About Me)' by Simple Minds

All the Small Things

Why is choosing this so hard?!

Here are some things that have been the cause of bickering and exasperated cries in our house over the years: 

Leaving a light on
Not loading the dishwasher 'correctly'
Not replacing the toilet roll
Leaving clothes on the floor
Choosing wallpaper

Why is it that these inconsequential things can be the cause of such frustration?  How is it that a dropped plate can be the catalyst for actual tears?  Why does stubbing your toe provoke a response more suited to a footballer feigning an injury?

Sometimes the little things can cause big outbursts and being an emotional type who wants life to be an endless festival of amusing distractions, I know I am guilty of over-reacting and sometimes having unrealistic expectations.

Thankfully, however, I have great friends that are happy to discuss life without putting up a wall of pretence.  During a particularly fruitful wine-assisted conversation we gave each other a good talking to on the fact that if you're in agreement on the massive stuff like marriage and raising the children then in the grand scheme of things the occasional expression of annoyance really is small fry.  It would be unrealistic to expect to live with the same person for the rest of your life without ever having raised your voice or disagreed about who's turn it is to put the bins out.  

So whilst one of us buying the 'wrong' type of crisps or forgetting to put Parent's Evening on the calendar may still cause a childish outburst or an 'argh!' of frustration I will take it in context and move on.  I will try not to sweat the small stuff.

Fuzzy Logic

When planning to leave corporate life my husband gave me an ultimatum:

"I will support your decision only if you work out financially what it means to us."

This was very annoying and challenging to me as I used to feel a perverse sense of pride in saying "I'm not good at maths" or, even worse, "I don't do maths".  It was a smart move on his part as years of receiving a generous salary and benefits package had effectively divorced my brain from understanding the actual cost of things and the value of money.

So, I did as I was told, developed best and worst case scenarios and so far, so good.  However, what is interesting to me looking back is that my thought process was 'How much do I need to earn to keep the lifestyle that I enjoy?' 

In the past 18 months that thinking has shifted to 'How can I have a lifestyle that I enjoy that isn't centred around earning money?'

A good example is my car.  Bought on a finance plan when in possession of a car allowance I chose the most highly specced thing I could find.  Forget servicing / tyres / tax - it all went on added extras like satnav and heated seats (as if my backside doesn't do a good enough job of keeping itself warm....).   Then a couple of months ago as I did my year end accounts I thought it would be a good time to look at our overall financial health and calculated how much I would need to earn before tax just to cover the finance repayments.  I nearly fell over.  Finally the penny dropped that I was working my (very warm) backside off to pay for a car that was only being driven 2 or 3 days a week and hardly ever with more than 2 people in it....I gave myself a slap around the face and a 'D-minus' with a big red pen. 

So the car is gone, swapped for a much cheaper, older model.  It doesn't have satnav, parking sensors or leather seats but I can read a map (ok, I can't - I get the directions from the AA website and write them down on the back of an envelope that then gets stuck to the dash), park by using my mirrors and if I'm that desperate for the feel of leather then I'll have to make like a Hairy Biker and buy a nice pair of trousers. 

The sense of freedom from having that financial weight lifted is fantastic - now my wages can go on the important things like the mortgage, the kids shoes, and (very importantly) wine!

The Look of Love

The wedding for which I purchased special underwear (see 'Spanx for the Memories') was a triumph.  As you would expect it was filled with joy, happiness, and a room full of people sincerely wishing the couple all the very best for their future together.

The attention to detail was incredible; retro sweets to inspire a sense of fun, a photo & video booth to capture everyone's congratulatory messages in real-time (and to give the exhibitionists a safe place to bare their bottoms at midnight) and place settings made out of wooden hearts on pieces of string that the ladies tied to their wrists to add a romantic twist to their outfits.  There was even a dedication on each table to loved ones now gone and heart-shaped confetti that had been painstakingly cut out of books of romantic poetry.  Every tiny piece seemed to have a word like 'cherish' printed on it.

But the thing that really did it for me was when the groom was delivering a very emotional part of his speech, acknowledging the love he had not just for his wife and their son but also asking everyone to raise a toast to 'absent friends'.  At that point in time, with him and half the room in tears, his wife was calm and looking at him in a way that said "when you feel weak I will be strong", theirs is truly a love match.  It reminded me that outside of all of the things that we think we need and the money that we spend on baubles and parties to demonstrate our love (I love a diamond - don't get me wrong), there are times when a look like that says it better than anything else ever could.