As a lot of you may already know, I'm a mother of four wonderful children. I find it necessary to always use a positive adjective when describing the children because it usually sounds so much better than the other available adjectives such as crazy, insane, loud, strange, sassy, odd or weird to name a few.
The first three of the spectacular children born happened to be boys. Now as much as I loved and enjoyed my boys, I believe every woman secretly yearns to have a little girl at some point. Understand that I loved having the boys. I loved their independence, rowdiness and constant attempt to out-do each other but there was a part of me that still longed for a little girl. A little girl to dress in pink, to buy pink blankets for, to put ribbons in her hair and play dolls with on rainy days.
After three boys and six years I got my wish. I had a beautiful little baby girl to add to the three gorgeous boys I already had at the time. We named her Bethany.
The first eighteen months were great. Pink was everywhere. Dolls and strollers waited anxiously in the corner of her room for Bethany to get old enough to play with them. I stocked up on Barbie's and play outfits. Her grandmother bought her a complete dish set and stuffed animals flowed over the edge of the toy box. Bethany's room looked like a flamingo had vomited everywhere. There was hardly a spot that wasn't pink. It was great and we all waited patiently for her to mature.
Time passed and Bethy (as we call her) grew, began to talk and develop her own little personality. However, the dolls and dishes remained in the corner as Bethany chose to play outside in the dirt with her brothers. I frequently found myself picking up more monster trucks and Hot Wheels cars from Bethany's room than her brothers. She wouldn't stand still to have her hair done, she hated braids or ribbons, dresses were worn out into the mud and on rainy days, well, she spent rainy days playing in the rain with her brothers.
Bethany remained a tomboy until she started school. Slowly she began to appreciate some of the little things that make us all female. She wanted her nails painted from time to time and even let me start putting her hair up with ribbons and clasps. Bethany still buried baby dolls at the bottom of her closet and toy box but I wasn't asking for miracles so I embraced the new "girly" characteristics she was adopting with age.
In second grade, Bethany came to me and asked if she could have a sleep-over for her birthday party. She wanted to call it a Pretty Pretty Princess Party. I was ecstatic. I enthusiastically exclaimed my excitement over this idea and we immediately began to plan.
We went to the store and picked out a princess cake, an inflatable castle ring toss game, pin the slipper on the princess game, tons of prizes, princess movies, tiara's for everyone and of course, ice cream. I made princess dogs and chili and royal chips and dip. We bought princess balloons and a princess centerpiece.
After having three boys, I was an old pro at the slumber parties. All the boys had a sleep over at some point or another for their birthday. It was always a great time complete with sno cone machines, inflatable food toss games and more. The boys would usually begin losing steam around 9 or 10pm and would crash in front of the PlayStation in their sleeping bags never to be heard from again until morning.
Bethany invited every girl in her class and all but one was able to attend. That fateful evening, eight little girls that I like to refer to as Satan's Disciples, arrived on my doorstep towing additional princess paraphernalia behind them. Games, make-up and fake jewelry were among the items smuggled in that evening.
My best friend of 23 years came down with her oldest daughter to join in on the festivities. Marie and I sat comfortably on the sofa talking about trivial things as the girls continued to arrive.
At first, things went as planned. Everyone ate their princess dogs and chili and royal chips and dip. Then we went directly into the cake, ice cream and gifts. By this time, girls were already in their princess pajamas and were wearing their tiara's. Small arguments began to form as they fought over who had the better tiara. One of the Devil's Disciples was unable to speak without a long drawn out high pitched whine. Every word was stretched to maximum ability and the sound barrier was tested with each sentence but still things were going seemingly well.
Once the cake and ice cream was over and the tiara debate was settled, we moved into the living room to begin the fun. We started with the castle ring toss. Whiney immediately disqualified herself after the first round when she couldn't get rings around any of the castle tops. I moved the line up in order to increase their chances and end this game sooner. Another girl, I call Bossy, began to monitor everyone else's spacing to determine if they were cheating by crossing the line. Bossy's real name was Bethany, and yes, she's mine. Bossy collided with Stubborn and Stubborn had issues with Meanie. Meanie constantly bad mouthed Whiney and Whiney kept trying to get Popular to leave the game and join her alliance as Sporty, Sweety and Shorty continued to try to win prizes. I don't think Bratty was ever part of the game but I think she was in an alliance with Bossy and Stubborn.
We finished the princess castle ring toss and decided to move on to pin the slipper on the princess game. Meanie decided she would be first so I put the blindfold on, spun her around and sent her toward the wall. Bulls eye, she got the shoe right on the foot. Sporty, Shorty, Stubborn, Bossy, Bratty and Sweety all followed behind. Each one managed to get the shoe almost directly on the correct spot. Popular and Whiney went last but weren't able to get anywhere near the desired spot. A new argument erupted. Popular and Whiney were convinced that the other girls had all formed an alliance and had cheated in order to win prizes. Now I must admit, it does sound unlikely that all those girls were able to hit the bullseye every time but by that time, I just wanted to give them their bubble makers, princess rings, happy face pens and princess slinkies so I can go to bed. I was ready to say goodbye to my friend, pop in the princess movie and get some well deserved sleep.
The girls began to chant Hide and Seek over and over again to my horror. Bossy, the birthday girl, begged to play a game of hide and seek. It sounded like a good idea and a perfect opportunity for me to get to sit down and chat with my old friend for a little longer. Squeals, loud bangs and the thunder of little feet echoed throughout the house as I continued to converse with my friend. Popular came to inform me that Whiney had locked herself in Bossy's room to cry because the other girl's weren't playing fair. I chose to tackle that issue later as I continued my conversation. Girls screamed past us and I could feel the wind from their movement. Bratty and Shorty came to me in tears because Bossy's big brother, Bratty and Meanie had scared them in my closet by turning off the light and holding the door shut.
Still, I chose to believe they were having fun until my oldest son came to me.
"Mom?"
"Yes Garret, what now?"
"I think you may want to check out Levi's room."
Levi was my second born son. I sat there for a minute trying to absorb what he just said when the family dog, Sophia, jumped into my lap. I reached to pet her and felt something sticky and thick. I raised my hand to observe and determine what was all over my dog when Garret responded, "I think it's cheez whiz. It's everywhere back here."
I looked down and my little black dog was covered in an orange substance. My friend immediately began to laugh as I leaped from the couch.
I burst into Levi's room and saw Sporty, Bossy and Sweety sitting on the bed. Cheez Whiz is on the carpet, the bed frame, the dog, the dresser, the comforter and the wall. On the wall there is a perfect cheez whiz hand print. I'm stunned as I see a flash out of the corner of my eye. Marie is standing in the doorway laughing to the point of tears and snapping pictures.
"What happened, who did this, what is this!!!???" I asked in an exclaimed way.
Sporty and Bossy quickly pointed to Sweety without saying a word. Not Sweety. Sweety was the quietest, most polite child in the den of the Devil's Disciples. Yet when I asked Sweety if she was the one that pressed her cheez whiz covered hand against the wall and had covered the dog in cheese, she answered yes.
After my friend left, the remainder of the night was spent corralling nine insane girls into the living room, keeping them still, attempting to quiet the room and struggling to get some sleep.
The following day after all the girls left, I found myself in my bed asleep for three hours. It was the first time in birthday history that I had to take a nap after a party!
Visitors
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
Sophia's Babies
Sophia has always been an interesting and somewhat peculiar character in our family. When you say her name, she raises her top lip and appears to smile.
We used to have to fill pie pans full of ice water for her to soak her feet in. Sophia can sometimes have traits similair to a cat. There are times that she will bring "gifts" to our door. These gifts are usually small, dead, smelly and unrecognizable.
All in all, Sophie, as we call her most of the time, has been a fun dog to have around.
One thing Sophia has always loved are her toys. Her favorite toy is her first toy we ever bought for her. It was a bright white pineapple with a squeaker in the center. She loved the pineapple and three years later, she still has this pineapple although it is now a dark gray, deflated, squeakerless toy. But she still loves it.
Recently we began adding toys to her collection. She has two polka-dot cloth squeaky bones, a squeaky hedgehog, a plastic spiky football and a rubber dumbell. Since adding these new toys to her collection, Sophie began nesting. She hides these "babies" everywhere. We started calling them babies because surprisingly, Sophie started lactating last week. She cries if you pick them up, cries if she loses one, cries if we move them, cries if she leaves one outside and basically just cries for the sake of crying. She even cries over the dead pineapple baby.
(Dead pineapple baby!)
At night, we gather all her "babies" together and put them in her bed in the laundry room and she jumps in to surround herself with them for a good nights sleep. I'm a little confused over what to do or if I should do anything. It really is amazing how much of a personality animals can have and how particular they can be about some things. I also just recently had to move our pet rabbit back to the edge of the living room where all the activity is because after moving her to the corner of the room for one week, she spent everyday turning over her litter box and emptying her food bowl in an extremely agressive way. Once I moved her back to "her spot", she was back to normal. Crazy animals!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
My Mother's Hands
When I was a child my mother's hands were very busy. They spent many hours cooking meals and scrubbing dishes. I would stand on a chair next to my mom and take the soapy plates from her hands and dip them in the clear water before stacking them beside the sink.
My mother's hands were always busy wiping away tears and applying bandages to scraped knees. I can vividly recall sitting on a chair with my arm extended as my mother's hands gently spread antibiotic cream over a fresh cut on my finger. I examined the differences between my dimpled smooth hand to her older more mature hand as she placed the band aid on my cut.
Her hand is what I would grab hold of when I didn't want to get lost, feared the dark, needed support, or wanted a friend.
As I aged, so did my mother's hands. Not needing to be used as a guide anymore, they began turn pages of books again, knit, crochet and garden. I distanced myself from her hands as I grew and as a result, they began to age and wrinkle.
Time passed and before long my mom was again using her hands to cradle babies. Grandchildren would busy the hands of a woman who craved the ability to nurture. Once again, small hands were looking for guidance, a light in the dark, support and a friend. She was able to provide all of that and more as her hands got busy knitting sweaters and turning the pages of picture books for the next generation.
The grandchildren began to grow as well and my mother's hands continued to age. Small spots began to form on the top and the skin started to darken around the nails but still they remained busy wiping tears and applying bandages.
More time would pass and my mom would become very ill in a short amount of time. Suddenly, those same hands would wipe away her own tears and search for another looking for comfort and reassurance. I held her hand, now older and smaller. The skin seemed more loose and it didn't seem as strong as it did when I was a child.
No time would pass and I would find myself holding my mother's hand for the last time. A hand that wouldn't hold back as I squeezed tightly and said goodbye. Hands that would no longer offer guidance as my tears showered them. Hands that I would never see again.
Time passed and I took my children to the park. We walked through the grass as my youngest daughter ran up to me and grabbed my hand. She held up our hands together and said, "Look how much bigger your hand is than mine!"
I glanced down and saw my mother's hand.
My mother's hands were always busy wiping away tears and applying bandages to scraped knees. I can vividly recall sitting on a chair with my arm extended as my mother's hands gently spread antibiotic cream over a fresh cut on my finger. I examined the differences between my dimpled smooth hand to her older more mature hand as she placed the band aid on my cut.
Her hand is what I would grab hold of when I didn't want to get lost, feared the dark, needed support, or wanted a friend.
As I aged, so did my mother's hands. Not needing to be used as a guide anymore, they began turn pages of books again, knit, crochet and garden. I distanced myself from her hands as I grew and as a result, they began to age and wrinkle.
Time passed and before long my mom was again using her hands to cradle babies. Grandchildren would busy the hands of a woman who craved the ability to nurture. Once again, small hands were looking for guidance, a light in the dark, support and a friend. She was able to provide all of that and more as her hands got busy knitting sweaters and turning the pages of picture books for the next generation.
The grandchildren began to grow as well and my mother's hands continued to age. Small spots began to form on the top and the skin started to darken around the nails but still they remained busy wiping tears and applying bandages.
More time would pass and my mom would become very ill in a short amount of time. Suddenly, those same hands would wipe away her own tears and search for another looking for comfort and reassurance. I held her hand, now older and smaller. The skin seemed more loose and it didn't seem as strong as it did when I was a child.
No time would pass and I would find myself holding my mother's hand for the last time. A hand that wouldn't hold back as I squeezed tightly and said goodbye. Hands that would no longer offer guidance as my tears showered them. Hands that I would never see again.
Time passed and I took my children to the park. We walked through the grass as my youngest daughter ran up to me and grabbed my hand. She held up our hands together and said, "Look how much bigger your hand is than mine!"
I glanced down and saw my mother's hand.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Marriage Advice from a Divorced Woman
Most people don't want to listen to parenting advice from those that have never raised a child and I suspect the same to be true of taking advice from divorced people. But those of us who have survived the amputation of our pride, dignity and self esteem caused from the divorce are a different breed then the know-it-all non-parent parenting advisors we've all come to question.
I spent ten years in a marriage that began far too soon but it wasn't all bad otherwise I wouldn't have stayed for even one year. I don't know about you but I feel like I should get the privelege of distributing one strong tip per year of marriage. Don't you think it's an earned privelege that may help current young couples or at least bring a smile to their face as they look at each other and say, "That will never happen to us!"
1. Never pass gas in front of your spouse. Now unfortunately this only applies to women because for men it's perfectly acceptable after the second date. Honestly, it can seem very unlady-like and it's definitely a turn off for the man. Now on the flip side of that you can always feel free to use their disgust to your advantage. Are there times that you're just not "in the mood"? Usually it's when you're cooking dinner, reading in bed or trying to fold clothes. These are the times that popping off a little gas bomb could help you without encountering an argument. Men will quickly scramble away in search of a sports channel or power tool to avoid you witnessing their disgust. Result: You get to continue reading your book, cooking dinner or folding clothes.
2. Don't get too comfortable with each other. Again, this applies more to the women. If you begin showing signs of being "too comfortable" around your man you will soon find yourself involved in interesting situations. When a man knows that he can burp, fart, blow snot straight from his nose to the ground and make noises while sitting on the toilet all in your presence then physical aid and advice is not far behind. A man that feels completely comfortable with you will have no problem peeling off his sock in front of you, tossing his shriveled smelly foot in the air and asking you to look at the sore on the bottom of his third toe. A comfortable man will not hesitate to ask you to squeeze the infected hair on his back and administer alcohol and antibiotic cream to the area. A man at ease with his mate will not think twice about asking you to investigate the contents of the toilet bowl after making a deposit to see if you think the contents are "normal". Now I have to admit after you have kids this is much easier to endure.
3. Never pretend that single friends are okay to go out with alone. Single friends are your enemy. Single friends are out at night looking for single women or men and if your mate is out with him/her then who do you think they're mingling with? Single friends are like a horrible religious cult. Once they are out of your presence they will preach relentlessly to your mate about the joys of freedom and the single life. They will visit your house, eat your food, and laugh at your jokes but make no mistake...they are the enemy.
4. In-laws should be called Out-laws. These people will turn on you in a second! In-laws will always take the side of their child. Now they may act differently when you're around and there's an argument taking place but in private quarters, they are siding with their son or daughter. I also feel compelled to tell you that once the grandchildren are born, you're both out. Husband and wife are invisible and the grandchildren become the new focus. Once in-laws become grandparents, you're marital problems are abandoned which could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on your situation.
5. Don't try to break old habits developed in childhood. Men are especially impossible and guilty of the inability to change old habits. This is mostly due to their mothers. Tossing their clothes on the bedroom floor and dumping food in the sink is among a few of the childhood habits you will have to deal with. I really don't have any advice here because nothing will work so my advice is to just accept and deal with some of these disorders instilled by the mothers of these men and move on to bigger issues. I tried everything. After years of asking, begging, pleading and fussing about food being dumped in the sink, I finally snapped. We didn't have a garbage disposal so I had to manually scoop this slimy, soggy wet food out of the sink by hand. One afternoon we had beef stew for dinner. I cooked, we ate, and all the dishes went into the sink. I bathed the kids, read the bedtime stories and relaxed for a while as my husband ventured off to bed. I returned to the kitchen to begin the dishes but the water wouldn't drain because there were large carrots and potatoes lodged in the drain. I always emptied the kids and my bowls so I knew it could only be from one bowl. HIS bowl. I calmly reached into the drawer and pulled out a large soup spoon. I used the soup spoon to scoop out a large portion of the soggy food and slowly walked into the bedroom where my sleeping husband lay. I gently dropped the large spoon full of food into his left work boot and returned to the kitchen to finish the dishes. I wouldn't hear another word until 6am the following morning as I listened to my husband yell out in anger after shoving his foot into a beef stew filled boot. Result: He still dumped food in the sink although it was a while later.
6. Don't leave with food during an argument. Since we're on the subject of food I have to express the importance of food to a man. One of the biggest arguments I had with my ex-husband was just before dinner time. He stomped off to the bathroom to take his bath because he had worked in construction all day. We continued to argue from separate rooms and when I walked into the kitchen to begin making hamburgers I quickly decided I wasn't going to cook for him. I made the decision to scoop up the thawed hamburger meat, potatoes and other vegetables and make my way to my mother's house to cook there for me and the babies. Unfortunately I announced my plans throughout the house and this didn't sit well with the ogre in the tub. Shampoo and conditioner bottles whizzed past me as I walked out the door and the crazed shoutings of a hungry construction worker echoed through the neighborhood.
7. Never force a personal activity on the other. Sometimes it's just better to go alone. Honestly, you're going to have a better time by yourself if your partner didn't want to go in the first place. There's nothing more unpleasant than being at a function with someone that is miserable. Just leave them at home. If they don't like parades and they've told you they don't like parades then don't drag them to a parade. You won't have fun, I promise. Find a friend or family member that enjoys that particular activity and leave your spouse at home. Give him/her a chore. Maybe they can do dishes or mow the lawn while you're gone.
8. Don't befriend your spouses ex. The ex-wife or husband of your spouse is not your friend. They're divorced for a reason and like it or not, there are sore feelings on one or both sides. You can definitely be civil and gracious but don't start inviting the ex to parties and events. I totally believe that it is better to get along but that doesn't mean you have to start going to the movies with the ex.
The ex-spouse is not a whole lot different than the out-laws except they don't warm up when another child is born. This is only viewed as a threat to them. If you're lucky you'll meet a mate that has an ex that isn't crazy and all will be well but for those of us that aren't so lucky, we'll be cursed with a crazy psychotic that's out for blood. Be cautious and be alert and you'll survive the ex.
9. Make a list of things that annoy you and a list of things you adore. Both parties can have fun at this. After years of marriage you're probably pretty clear on what bugs the crap out of you the most. Share that with your mate. I actually never had the opportunity to do this activity but wish I had. My list would have included things like:
I can't stand the way you scratch yourself at night.
I don't like that pair of jeans you wear all the time.
I hate the way you pronounce battery.
I love the way glance at me from across the room.
I appreciate your determination to get that broken motorcycle to work.
I admire your passion for animals.
10. Make love in anger. The best way to get rid of all that anger is to use that energy and stress as a release. The whole "never go to bed angry" actually does make sense. There's a lot of adreniline that comes from your arguments. Use that adreneline and apply it to the bedroom. The real issue can be readdressed the next day when both people have a more clear head.
I spent ten years in a marriage that began far too soon but it wasn't all bad otherwise I wouldn't have stayed for even one year. I don't know about you but I feel like I should get the privelege of distributing one strong tip per year of marriage. Don't you think it's an earned privelege that may help current young couples or at least bring a smile to their face as they look at each other and say, "That will never happen to us!"
1. Never pass gas in front of your spouse. Now unfortunately this only applies to women because for men it's perfectly acceptable after the second date. Honestly, it can seem very unlady-like and it's definitely a turn off for the man. Now on the flip side of that you can always feel free to use their disgust to your advantage. Are there times that you're just not "in the mood"? Usually it's when you're cooking dinner, reading in bed or trying to fold clothes. These are the times that popping off a little gas bomb could help you without encountering an argument. Men will quickly scramble away in search of a sports channel or power tool to avoid you witnessing their disgust. Result: You get to continue reading your book, cooking dinner or folding clothes.
2. Don't get too comfortable with each other. Again, this applies more to the women. If you begin showing signs of being "too comfortable" around your man you will soon find yourself involved in interesting situations. When a man knows that he can burp, fart, blow snot straight from his nose to the ground and make noises while sitting on the toilet all in your presence then physical aid and advice is not far behind. A man that feels completely comfortable with you will have no problem peeling off his sock in front of you, tossing his shriveled smelly foot in the air and asking you to look at the sore on the bottom of his third toe. A comfortable man will not hesitate to ask you to squeeze the infected hair on his back and administer alcohol and antibiotic cream to the area. A man at ease with his mate will not think twice about asking you to investigate the contents of the toilet bowl after making a deposit to see if you think the contents are "normal". Now I have to admit after you have kids this is much easier to endure.
3. Never pretend that single friends are okay to go out with alone. Single friends are your enemy. Single friends are out at night looking for single women or men and if your mate is out with him/her then who do you think they're mingling with? Single friends are like a horrible religious cult. Once they are out of your presence they will preach relentlessly to your mate about the joys of freedom and the single life. They will visit your house, eat your food, and laugh at your jokes but make no mistake...they are the enemy.
4. In-laws should be called Out-laws. These people will turn on you in a second! In-laws will always take the side of their child. Now they may act differently when you're around and there's an argument taking place but in private quarters, they are siding with their son or daughter. I also feel compelled to tell you that once the grandchildren are born, you're both out. Husband and wife are invisible and the grandchildren become the new focus. Once in-laws become grandparents, you're marital problems are abandoned which could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on your situation.
5. Don't try to break old habits developed in childhood. Men are especially impossible and guilty of the inability to change old habits. This is mostly due to their mothers. Tossing their clothes on the bedroom floor and dumping food in the sink is among a few of the childhood habits you will have to deal with. I really don't have any advice here because nothing will work so my advice is to just accept and deal with some of these disorders instilled by the mothers of these men and move on to bigger issues. I tried everything. After years of asking, begging, pleading and fussing about food being dumped in the sink, I finally snapped. We didn't have a garbage disposal so I had to manually scoop this slimy, soggy wet food out of the sink by hand. One afternoon we had beef stew for dinner. I cooked, we ate, and all the dishes went into the sink. I bathed the kids, read the bedtime stories and relaxed for a while as my husband ventured off to bed. I returned to the kitchen to begin the dishes but the water wouldn't drain because there were large carrots and potatoes lodged in the drain. I always emptied the kids and my bowls so I knew it could only be from one bowl. HIS bowl. I calmly reached into the drawer and pulled out a large soup spoon. I used the soup spoon to scoop out a large portion of the soggy food and slowly walked into the bedroom where my sleeping husband lay. I gently dropped the large spoon full of food into his left work boot and returned to the kitchen to finish the dishes. I wouldn't hear another word until 6am the following morning as I listened to my husband yell out in anger after shoving his foot into a beef stew filled boot. Result: He still dumped food in the sink although it was a while later.
6. Don't leave with food during an argument. Since we're on the subject of food I have to express the importance of food to a man. One of the biggest arguments I had with my ex-husband was just before dinner time. He stomped off to the bathroom to take his bath because he had worked in construction all day. We continued to argue from separate rooms and when I walked into the kitchen to begin making hamburgers I quickly decided I wasn't going to cook for him. I made the decision to scoop up the thawed hamburger meat, potatoes and other vegetables and make my way to my mother's house to cook there for me and the babies. Unfortunately I announced my plans throughout the house and this didn't sit well with the ogre in the tub. Shampoo and conditioner bottles whizzed past me as I walked out the door and the crazed shoutings of a hungry construction worker echoed through the neighborhood.
7. Never force a personal activity on the other. Sometimes it's just better to go alone. Honestly, you're going to have a better time by yourself if your partner didn't want to go in the first place. There's nothing more unpleasant than being at a function with someone that is miserable. Just leave them at home. If they don't like parades and they've told you they don't like parades then don't drag them to a parade. You won't have fun, I promise. Find a friend or family member that enjoys that particular activity and leave your spouse at home. Give him/her a chore. Maybe they can do dishes or mow the lawn while you're gone.
8. Don't befriend your spouses ex. The ex-wife or husband of your spouse is not your friend. They're divorced for a reason and like it or not, there are sore feelings on one or both sides. You can definitely be civil and gracious but don't start inviting the ex to parties and events. I totally believe that it is better to get along but that doesn't mean you have to start going to the movies with the ex.
The ex-spouse is not a whole lot different than the out-laws except they don't warm up when another child is born. This is only viewed as a threat to them. If you're lucky you'll meet a mate that has an ex that isn't crazy and all will be well but for those of us that aren't so lucky, we'll be cursed with a crazy psychotic that's out for blood. Be cautious and be alert and you'll survive the ex.
9. Make a list of things that annoy you and a list of things you adore. Both parties can have fun at this. After years of marriage you're probably pretty clear on what bugs the crap out of you the most. Share that with your mate. I actually never had the opportunity to do this activity but wish I had. My list would have included things like:
I can't stand the way you scratch yourself at night.
I don't like that pair of jeans you wear all the time.
I hate the way you pronounce battery.
I love the way glance at me from across the room.
I appreciate your determination to get that broken motorcycle to work.
I admire your passion for animals.
10. Make love in anger. The best way to get rid of all that anger is to use that energy and stress as a release. The whole "never go to bed angry" actually does make sense. There's a lot of adreniline that comes from your arguments. Use that adreneline and apply it to the bedroom. The real issue can be readdressed the next day when both people have a more clear head.
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