Happy Valentines Day for the Old and Wrinkly Ones

Some say that love is a warm and fuzzy feeling, the need to be with that special someone for the rest of your life, a burning desire to get as close as physically possible and bear the fruits of your love in the form of many little munchkins…

I say that love is like walking across a tightrope between two buildings while balancing twenty-six dirty nappies in one hand and a tray of chicken nuggets and chippies in the other and wearing a fat suit following thirty-six hours of no sleep. And still smiling at the other end.

When I met my husband, I was a size six. I had abs, long luscious golden locks, and perky breasts. Now I have a pouch that could house a small joey, mousy brown hair and floppy sock breasts with big giant nipples. When I take my bra off I could find a whole collection of Lego, hair clips and Cheerios. Love is what my husband still has for me, despite all these changes in the bargain along the way.

Love is ageing alongside one another, changing so gradually that neither of you notice these changes and beg the marriage gods for a refund. Love is sacrificing designer handbags and European holidays for a nappy bag and a trip to the zoo and still wanting to take photos to preserve the precious memories. Love is about getting three hours sleep and finding a smile inside when you’re woken by a one-year old blowing raspberries on your flabby belly. Raspberries ALWAYS sound better when there’s a bit of give in the skin’s elasticity. I do it for her. Really, I do.

Love is that coffee and shortbread that you hurriedly share after the kids are in bed, while both hoping that it lasts forever. It’s walking around MovieWorld the day after tearing your hamstring clean off the bone. It’s the way I feel right now and every second of every day of my life without exception and I would never change a thing.

Love is a smile, open and free

Love is an embrace, especially for me

Love is my cocoon, warm and secure

Love infects me with a passion, of which I want no cure.

My sweetheart’s love is balmy and thrilling

We share passion, excitement, our love is fulfilling

Like the apples fallen from the abundant tree

Our love has created cherished hearts three.

The love of our cherubs is innocent and bright

Unconditional and constant as the stars at night

Always forgiving, never a grudge to be held

To protect them forever, I am always compelled.

Love is acknowledging how blessed we may be

And never assuming its loyalty

We give and receive in equal shares

Showing our love that nothing else compares.


Love and Laughter

My husband rocks. No, really. I’ve not been hacked, it’s still me and he honestly rocks!

I was thinking today of all the times he’s made me wet my pants over the years. Sometimes it’s been begrudgingly on my part. You know when someone is being so cheeky that you try to keep a straight face, but inside you’re just bursting to cry with laughter? There have been many times where I’ve tried to be angry at him but it very rarely works. He just makes me laugh.

First, there is the “car-waft”. When we were first dating and we’d pull up to traffic lights in the car, he would promptly wind down his window while fanning his face and pointing at me. If the car was close enough, he’d even tell them “Awwwww she farted!” No matter how many times you’d shake your head and deny it, you could tell by the look in their eyes that these people do not believe you. After all, even if you DID do it, you’d still be denying it.

Next is the “salad sandwich”. My husband is Lebanese and I am English. His family and friends are the most welcoming and hospitable people I have ever met. If you shiver, they will try to force you to take the jumper off their shoulders. They often show their love through food, and much of their lives revolve around sumptuous feasts. Even to this day, when we pull out the barbecue to cook the kids a few sausages for dinner, my in-laws start asking who we’re inviting to the “barbecue”. And it’s said like you’d say “wedding” or “christening”. Anyway, whenever we would visit his friends who still lived at home (and even his parents in the early days), they would always offer us food. I’d politely shake my head and say “No thank you” and hubby would say “She was just saying she wants a salad sandwich”. The lady of the house would always without fail, excitedly reply with “You want a salad sandwich? I make for you!” I’d then smile and explain that no, we had eaten on our way over, then he would lean forward and say “She’s shy, she’s going to tell you she doesn’t want one, but she really does”. This would then result in AT LEAST twenty minutes of “Are you sure?” and “I’m happy to make one for you” while hubby would sit opposite me snickering at my discomfort.

Another one he’s got me with over the years is the “shopping list edit”. Imagine this: You’re heading out to the local supermarket with several items on your list. You have a toddler who sits in the trolley scribbling on the shopping list, and then you bump into someone you know. You’re stood there chatting away and they look down at the note pad with the shopping list and scribbles and you realise hubby has added a special item which won’t be found in the medication aisle next to the condoms. Your list now looks like this:

* Bread

* Milk

* D**k suck

* Baked Beans

* Yoghurt…

You’re smiling at the person in front of you while they look down at the notepad encouraging your toddler to keep drawing. The only thing you can do is start jolting the shopping trolley from side to side in the hope that their eyes can’t focus enough to make out the new addition to your shopping list. – Not. Cool. (My son’s neck is getting better by the day, I promise).

I’m sure there are more, but I’ll leave you with those gems for now. And it has to be said: Sorry ladies, he’s taken! 😛