Children & babies · fun · General parenting · Home and Family · Love · Marriage · mental health · relationships · sacrifice

Tin Happy Years

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When one hears the word “Tin”, what generally springs to mind is a tin of flaked tuna, a singleton’s serving of chunky vegetable soup or some sugar-free baked beans. A gloopy cocktail of syrup, in a negligible amount of fruit, a fat-free, caffeine-free, everything-free Coke Zero or maybe even a G&T in a slimline can, if you’re really posh. Princes, Campbell’s, Heinz, Coca Cola or Gordons & Schweppes – whatever marketing masterpiece your tin of choice is encased within, at the end of the day, it’s final fate is as of any other cheap, rusty, hollow Tin Can, that is – cracked open, used and emptied, before being slung into the giant gob of a bacteria-infested, creeping crawling cesspit of a recycling bin.

So when my Other Half threatened to buy me a gift of some “Tin” to mark the, quite frankly, miraculous occasion of our Tenth Wedding Anniversary, you can imagine I was less than impressed. Do I look like I need another sodding Tin Can in my life? Do I not fork out enough money improving the condition of your heart with beans, beans, the more you eat the more you fart? And can I infer from this ever so subtle hint, that tonight’s “Three Tin Can Course” banquet is a notch up on the fare I usually provide? It is indeed hard to fathom how on earth this ghastly metal managed to make it’s way to the top spot marking the Big 10. Why “Tin” has traditionally been chosen to represent the tenth year of a successful marital union is quite simply beyond me. Could it be as trivial as a play on words – tin, ten, ten, tin? Or is there a more subtle hidden irony that Simple Women like me will Never. Ever. Get?

Apparently there is some logic behind the Ten Tin Conundrum. Tin is a soft and malleable metal with a low melting point, which when cast, becomes strong to create a protective coating for other metals. The crème de la crème of Tin does not tarnish or rust, thereby maintaining an untainted and highly polished finish. Tin represents durability and protection and according to ancient civilisations, wisdom, balance and kindness. Without Tin, they say our lives would be lacking mercy and a sense of morality, and our relationships would be much sterner and harsher. “They” are clearly a lot cleverer than I. However, now we’ve cleared up the truth about Tin, its privileged position commencing the Conjugal Double Digits should start to make sense, wouldn’t you think?

So when my Other Half threatened to buy me a gift of some “Tin” to mark our ten years of Holy Matrimony, perhaps this was in fact less of a threat and rather more a well-considered, meaningful act of sincerity and love? Could it be that He truly understood the significance of such a milestone in our lives together thus far? Was his hard and strong outer shell melting away to reveal a soft, molten inner core, gushing with the purest of love? Well, had I actually received said “Gift of Tin”, then I might have believed it. But let’s not get carried away. As with any anniversary, birthday or special celebratory day, at our ripening old age, there is always an air of disenchantment on the horizon. And on this particular occasion, our Tenth Wedding Anniversary (in case you didn’t realise), disregarding the disappointing lack of Tin Gift, not only was I physically as SICK AS A DOG but I was also embroiled in “women’s stuff”, of which I shall spare you any further details. Needless to say, there was disappointment all round. In fact, “disappointment” is a total understatement. This, combined with running around after Three Terror Tots in a Spring heatwave like no other, was enough to send us both over the edge. And apparently, it was my fault. It was all my sodding fault.

“If it’s not a migraine, it’s illness. If it’s not illness, it’s your monthly do. And if it’s not your monthly do, it’s chronic fatigue. In fact Dear Wife of Ten-Tin-Can-Years, it is so Gd’dam “coincidental“, you couldn’t have planned it better yourself. Or could you? For it seems just too “typical” that, on each and every opportune occasion such as this, something always gets in the way of a “Good Time”. Which leads me to question, Dear Wife of mine, is there ever a Good Sodding Time for anything more meaningful than shovelling up shitty nappies and continuing to hum nursery rhymes in solitude to oneself, after ten years of marriage and three kids?”

And breathe. If you’ve read my post The Seven Year Itch, you’ll realise that nothing much has changed in three years. And if you’ve also read my post The GR, you’ll know that with a miserable cow of a wife for 10 years, He is well within his rights to be pretty damn peeved. So having found other ways to pacify Him, such as food, complements and other unmentionables, let’s now remind ourselves of why we’re here discussing love, life and Tin in the first place. Three happy kids, three happy homes, a zillion happy holidays, seven happy cars, a loving family and a bunch of happy-clappy friends = Ten Happy Years. Now stop complaining and crack open an ice cold Tinny.

 

 

Children & babies · General parenting · Home and Family · Love · Motherhood · Mum · sacrifice · Working mum

Mothering Sunday: The T’s and C’s

It’s that time of year again. Another day to commemorate something or other incredibly meaningful. But this time it’s not International Day of Happiness (that was last week apparently), World Health Day (that’s next week, if you’re interested), or Global Wind Day (this one’s in June, if you celebrate making wind). No, today is all about Me. It’s Mothering Sunday, again. Gosh how quickly time flies. And this year is no different to the past 8 as Mum. Continue reading “Mothering Sunday: The T’s and C’s”

General parenting · Home and Family · Love · Marriage · Motherhood

The G.R

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Apparently I have a new pet name. I call it a “pet”name in a last-ditch attempt to glean even the tiniest scrap of cuddly, candy-floss cuteness from it’s damn-right pettiness. Today and only today, I am willing to call it a “pet” name, in the spirit of February 14th (AKA Valentine’s Day), on which day surely everyone is entitled to a bit of petting. However, on every other day, it’s a nick name at best, an insult at worst. Continue reading “The G.R”

Choice · General parenting · Home and Family · Love · Marriage · Motherhood · sacrifice

The Full-time Wife

Since becoming an FTM, I figured that it was about time I stepped up to the plate and become an FTW at the same time. Yes, that’s right. A full-time-mum and a full-time-wife. A mean feat after nearly eight years handcuffed together in sworn allegiance. But with two for the price of one, my other-half was going to be overjoyed. So how could I deprive him any longer? Continue reading “The Full-time Wife”

General parenting · Home and Family · Love · Marriage · Motherhood · Mum · sacrifice · Travel

The Seven Year Itch

Last week the Mr and I celebrated having survived another year of marriage, quite remarkably, to each other. And what better way to mark yet another year of wonderful wedded bliss and matrimonial melodramas, than by having ourselves a very clean weekend away with one another. Plus two.

Happy anniversary Darling.

You see, my old fellow and I are not the most romantic duo you’ll ever meet. Romeo and Juliet we most certainly are not. Having booked this months in advance, as less of a pre-planned anniversary treat and more of a timely coincidence, the only thing on offer this weekend was an advance purchase rate and a couple of complimentary chocolate chip cookies. And with myself, the hormonal back-seat driver, and our very own double-trouble, squabbling, squawking, terrible twosome in tow, our celebratory cruise down the motorway was doomed from the outset. Continue reading “The Seven Year Itch”

Friendship · Love · Personal development

Knowing Me, Knowing You

You’ve not been around for long. But already I like you. There’s an unspoken bond being forged here. An organic synthesis of two kindred souls amid an antithesis of two decidedly different lives. Who knows, you may not stick around. But for now, you’re here. And I like you.

You’ve not been around for long. But I can’t help but be drawn to you. There’s an undeniable friendship being formed right here. A  subliminal connection between two minds of unmistakably similar matter. Who knows, friends come and friends go. But between us is a feeling of being felt that can never be unfelt. And for now, you’re here. So I’m glad. Continue reading “Knowing Me, Knowing You”

Children & babies · Health · Love · Motherhood

F4 Revisited

[Sequel to Half The Woman 

https://apparentlythisisnormal.wordpress.com/2013/05/13/half-the-woman/]

I was hoping never to see you again.

But that was wishful thinking.

And sadly it’s no surprise when your indelible imprint remains true to form –

Bed for bed, curtain for curtain –

Further confirmation that life is fragile, precious. Continue reading “F4 Revisited”

Home and Family · Love · Motherhood · Mum · sacrifice

65 Reasons

You don’t swear.

Apparently it’s unbecoming of a lady.

So when on the odd occasion you do blaspheme, we know it’s serious.

It really must be serious,

For Mums don’t swear. Or at least, we’re not supposed to.  And certainly not in public. So that would explain why my propensity towards off-loading shit in a most foul-mouthed and profane manner is not something for which you take the credit. Bloody hell.

But Thank Goodness this isn’t all about me. Continue reading “65 Reasons”

General parenting · Home and Family · Love · Marriage

Marriage Management

Recently I had a date. Boyish good looks, medium height, of average build. Rugged [from afar], unshaven [from up close]. Big brown eyes, floppy hair, T-shirt, jeans, holes, creases – the works.

Oh and married.

With kids.

Double trouble?  Apparently not. For, despite his 1 out of 10 for effort, my internet-acquired beau and I had rather a lot in common. Six years and nine days of ever-so holy matrimony and two ever-so cleverly created children to be precise. So what was with the date? Continue reading “Marriage Management”

Home and Family · Love · Marriage

The Inanimate Love Triangle

He’s not the jealous type. My old man.

But last week I suspected that something was meddling in my marriage.

A third party.

Regrettably not another man and thankfully not the mother-in-law, this “third party” [AKA my guilty pleasure] had surreptitiously stolen its way into the holy matrimony and eloped with my heart and soul, body and mind.  Poaching every precious moment, monopolising every meticulous thought.

And my other half didn’t like it.

Not one little bit. Continue reading “The Inanimate Love Triangle”