The tri was great though, The Man did really well and was in the same group as Jensen Button so we managed to get lots of pics of both of them. Almost made up for getting up so ridiculously early on a Sunday! Anyone who wants to swim 1.5km in the London Docks though has my utmost
JB out of the water with a bag of soggy wetsuit
2hrs 46mins 14secs - well done my Man!
We went to see the vicar for the final time a few weeks ago for our last ‘pre-wedding counselling’. In this session he discussed managing finances, sharing the housework and (recurring theme) having babies. (And slightly unsettlingly coming from the vicar, not letting your partner pressure you into doing things in the bedroom you’d rather not.) I think these sessions, tangential as they often end up being, are a good thing for a couple getting married. Too often you get caught up in the madness of organising the day, what colour will the bridesmaids be wearing, what to have for the starter, how much the florist is charging you, but very rarely do people actually ask you how you feel about getting married, or do you actually think properly about what you are doing.
My friend Clare lent me a book called The Conscious Bride which has some interesting things to say, and some interesting quotes from other brides. One bride was saying that she organised her wedding in three months, but actually in the end wished she’s taken the usual year or so, just to allow herself time to get her head around the big change happening in her life.
I can’t speak for the chaps but presume this happens to some extent as well, but it’s a weird change of identity getting married. For girls, if they decide to change their surnames, it’s a huge deal. I can see myself in some of the descriptions in the book – initial excitement, then resistance and kick-back against my fiancé for the changes he’s inflicting on me, then a gradual come-around to accepting the different identity I’ll be taking on as a wife. I don’t know if this simile was due to corporate brainwashing, but I felt like a piechart being stabbed by a new piece of pie.
1. Me, whole and happy being me, finally (after 30-ahem
2. Man comes along and wants to be permanent part my life. Thin end of the wedge. Pointy and a little ouchy. Requiring rearranging of my nice complete pie.
3. Gradual acceptance of man in my life.
4. Full integration.
Now this makes it seem that having The Man in my life was a bit unwelcome, which is not at all the case, it’s always been fantastic being with him. The final pie is much shinier and bouncier. In fact, I’m sure if he thought about it he went through pretty much the same thing. The first part of the transition stage was a bit odd though; even though you're having lots of fun together it takes time to let that new piece of pie settle in. Now he’s a fantastic part of my pie. Life. You know what I mean. It just takes a little while for change to happen. I find the idea of spending the rest of my life with him hugely exciting. Do-a-little-dance-and-say-yay! exciting in fact. We shall see what the future brings but I know whatever happens we’ll both be there supporting each other and being proud of each other. You can put the bucket down now I've finished.
In other news, one of the dogs at home had a litter of five puppies. Here’s some when they’re just waking up and looking a bit grumpy. They are complete timewasters and brilliant fun and they grow so fast!
And a cardigan was knitted all the way up to the neck but then was frogged completely because it was too small. Amazing how many hours’ work can be destroyed with the aid of a wool-winder in five minutes flat. Sigh.
No comments:
Post a Comment