Category Archives: Marriage

On making the journey to the other side

We all come in shades of grey, but life comes in technicolor!

“Learn from the mistakes of others…You can’t live long enough to make them all yourself.” Truer words vindicating parenthood have never been spoken. So much so, that many people have taken credit for this quote whose source, I admit, remains a mystery to me. 

Still, after almost two years of absence, I am not here to dwell on my mistakes. Nor do they all fit in a blog post. Since I last wrote, I have achieved many things. I have moved countries, built a new home, set up an educational consulting business, managed to stay married, sent another son off to university and am eagerly awaiting the graduation of another. 

Looking back on these last two years, it feels as if I have covered some rough terrain. I made it to the other side. The men in my life have also made tremendous milestones. In the hope that they will one day share their learnings with me, I offer some of my own acquired knowledge that has helped me along my own journey.

Learning 1: We all need help. 

Accept it. Ask for it. Give it.

I grew up in a family and a society where asking for help was a sign of weakness. Asking for help meant you were not able enough to do it yourself. You were somehow lacking, not strong enough, not worthy of validation. Asking for help was, therefore, not a means of connection but a cause for shame. But just like you cannot do open heart surgery on yourself, or reach that one specific point in the middle of your back, sometimes there are things that we simply cannot do alone. Sometimes we need that extended hand to help us get up when we fall. When offered help, take it graciously. Whether it is a cousin chauffeuring your kid to school, or your mother-in-law cooking you a meal, or a cleaner coming to vacuum your house, or a coach, we all need crutches we can lean on in times of overwhelm. People are happy to help, accepting their offer when they do, and asking them when they don’t (remember that sometimes they are also overwhelmed) is a sign that you value a relationship with them. Offer your help when you can. Everyone suffers. It is not a weakness, it is human nature. Suffering is part of the growth process. We are all stronger together.

Learning 2: Strengthen your core. 

Literally and figuratively. 

Life has a talent for throwing you curveballs. You will dodge some of them, but you won’t be able to dodge all of them. Sometimes you’re just going to have to take the hit. The stronger your core, the better you will be able to navigate troubled times. Get in touch with yourself, understand who you are and what you value. Figure out your principles and stand by them. Once you are anchored within yourself, you will better be able to get back on an even keel after a storm has rocked your boat. On the physical level, a strong core will keep you standing straight when the ground under your feet is shaking (best tested on a moving train) and keep your bones from bending (literally). 

Lesson 3: You make your own choices. 

Make them wisely. Then own them.

While it may sometimes feel counterintuitive, we always have a choice. Leaving our home, our friends and our loved ones is a choice to adopt a better life. Sometimes it is a safer life that we seek, or a life where we feel we will better thrive, or maybe just survive. By understanding our values and what matters to us, we are able to make better choices or perhaps more importantly, to stick by them. We have choices in what we think, as we have choices in what we see. In our relationships—with ourselves as with others—we may choose to see the good or the bad. Both of them are inherently present in all of us. Despite what the fairy tales tell us, there is no absolute good or evil, no black or white. We all come in varying—and perpetually evolving—shades of grey. We decide which shade we see.

Learning 4: Keep your dogs close and your creativity closer.

In the last few turbulent years (Oh! Did I mention the big M?), I have kept a few constants that have truly helped me. My dogs are a constant reminder of the very basics of a good life: love, food, sleep, warmth, outdoor walks, physical touch and play. Exercise has literally kept me moving and music has moved me, to tears and to laughter. It has kept me connected. But perhaps what I have valued the most has been my curiosity and my ensuing creativity: my constant desire to learn, to experiment, and to evolve. 

Pets, exercise, music and creativity. These four things will never leave you and will never disappoint you. Appreciate them, nurture them and indulge them. I know that in my case, they have kept me living with gratitude, and most importantly, they have kept me sane.

Of boys and marriage

Living with boys is essentially, living with doubt. “Are you sure? Really? Why?” Everything comes with a question: every request, every remark, every opinion.

“Darling, can you pass me the lettuce from the fridge, please?”

“Lettuce?”

“Yes. Lettuce. Please.”

“Why do you want lettuce?”

“To make a salad.”

“Are you sure you want to make a salad?”

Men doubt and question everything that women do. And we women, naturally, retaliate. We retaliate with our biggest weapon: we become mean. And then we blame the men.

“Hon, can you pass me that apple from the tree?”

“Why?”

“I want to eat it.”

“Are you sure you should be eating it?”

Scrunch!

“Yup, pretty sure Adam baby, pretty sure.”

“Why did you eat that?!”

“It’s your fault! Why did you pass it to me?”

Boys’ doubting and constant questioning would have been half a problem if they could at least take care of themselves on their own. Or if they made sense.

On a recent trip to Berlin to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary, my husband, Big Boy No. 1 and I, encountered very sunny weather and it wasn’t long before my big boy’s eyes started tearing and bothering him through his glasses.

Over breakfast I asked him why he didn’t bring his prescription sunglasses with him. His answer was that he didn’t think it would be so sunny.

“In July?” I asked.

“Well yes, I didn’t expect it to be so sunny in Berlin in July.”

“But why didn’t you bring them anyway? Why didn’t you think you would need them in July?” I persisted.

“Because it’s not the sun that bothers me. I don’t normally need them. It’s the sun that reflects off all these metallic surfaces that kills me, the kind of Northern European sun.”

“Like the sun in Berlin in July?”

We were getting annoyed with each other by then, him with me making fun of him and me with his inability to plan and pack properly. After a few minutes, my anger gave way to empathy.

“Here,” I said passing him my sunglasses across the table, “try these on for a while. See if they help.”

He took them, examined the lenses and promptly took out his lens wipe, cleaned them and gave them back to me.

“Here, they should be more pleasant to wear now.”

And that is why we have been married for twenty years and will probably stay married for the next twenty. I thanked him and thanked God for creating boys with such a short attention span and no rancour. So what’s a few questions here and there?

 

 

On boys and sailboats…and jealousy

A great thing about living with boys is that, should you choose to be, you can be invisible. My husband and I spend most of our time communicating via WhatsApp and messaging. We love each other dearly, we send each other articles we’ve read and that we’ve liked, podcasts, images…we love each other through our screens.

My older boys, similarly, are on screens either conducting their own on-screen love affairs or playing games. Sometimes, conveniently, we forget that we are under the same roof, each enjoying our own on-screen time in our own chosen room.

I have to say the only one who still really loves me is my 10 year-old. He’s the only one who still looks at me and wants my attention and every now and again I have to give him a screen so he can lay off the questions and I can get my thoughts down. I know I’ll regret it one day, but I may not even live to one day so I’ll deal with it when I get there.

For now, we all live in a state of mutual love and disregard.

Which is probably how my husband, Big Boy number one, imagined the conversation would go one morning a few years back when he was telling me about a new acquaintance he had met on one of his recent trip abroad, while I was checking my e-mail, on-screen.

“He’s a great guy,” he said, “really bright, you’ll like him. I’ll arrange for you to meet him.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied, with little enthusiasm. I had enough boys in my life, I figured I could do without one more.

“He works for…I’ve got to reply to this e-mail now…very competent…did I arrange for boy number two to get picked up…a graduate of…”

“Uh-huh.” I’ve got to order my groceries.

“He’s planning a trip in the Mediterranean,” uh-huh, “on his sailboat.”

We are more like our dogs than we think.

My ears perked up.

At that time, probably after reading one self-help book or another, I had decided that I will try everything that remotely interested me and promptly took up sailing. I loved it, bought the requisite books and fancied myself a sailor despite my having only sailed a Laser 4, slowly. A mildly competent windsurfer would have beaten me at any race. Still, I had a certificate and I sailed boats, albeit small ones. Anyone with a sailboat was my friend.

I think it was my sudden enthusiasm that threw him off-guard.

“Oh wow!” I exclaimed. “This guy sounds amazing! I’ve got to meet him! You’ve got to introduce me!

Mike, I continued, this guy has to become our friend!”

Somehow I wasn’t so invisible anymore.

“Well,” said my husband, “he’s not that great.”

“What do you mean he’s not that great? Just a second ago he was a brilliant, interesting,  bright guy, a sailor no less, and now that he’s caught my interest he’s not that great?”

“Well, he’s a bit of a geek.”

I reminded him that our eldest son was a bit of a geek and yet we still loved him.

“He’s not that kind of geek.”

“Well what kind of geek is he? Is there more than one kind?”

The answer was not forthcoming. The subject was promptly closed and I was never introduced to my would-be best friend. His subject would never come up again.

I asked my husband about him a couple of times since that conversation, but it was too late, I had become invisible again.

 

On living with boys…and a dog

Farts, fights, burps, hours in the toilet and clothes on the floor, what’s not to like?

Sometimes I wonder if I’m the mother or the resident dog but my husband says he wants that role. So I am the head culinary director, chief transportation manager, headmistress, chief hygiene officer, personal shopper and party planner. In my spare time I work.

I think my husband’s right, better to be the dog.

This is now of course. ‘Tis was not always thus. I remember once having a fight with my husband when our kids were still babies and toddlers, during which he expressed his displeasure at feeling as if he were not a husband and a father but “sometimes I feel like I’m just the dog in this house.”

That was before we got the dog.

In February 2014, Molly Gru (as in Despicable Me-best movie ever made) landed in our midst. Well, more like arrived in a box. I was immediately smitten. Here was the girl I never had! so what if she stood on four legs? MG was cute, small, furry and adored me. And I adored her back, much to everyone’s consternation. Plus she barked at anyone who upset me. What more could a girl ask for? Finally the attention I craved in a house of navel-gazers.

Two and a half years post Molly Gru entering our lives and still in mutual adoration, I reminded my husband of that conversation some years back.

“Now that you see how I treat the dog,” I said, “don’t you wish you had actually been the dog?” He was quiet. He was sad. With a wistful smile I saw him turn around and grab a tissue. I’m pretty sure he was shedding a tear or two.