A study has shown that January 8th is the busiest day of the year for divorce lawyers when up to one in five couples will enquire about divorce after the pressures of Christmas. The enforced intimacy of Christmas, coupled with the start of a new year is thought to be the main trigger.
Just read this and it scared the crap out of me. I decided to not do the Christmas lunch with the outlaws this year as it is just too stressful and really not worth my sanity. We therefore had a really good Christmas with a good friend. Just us. No politics and family grudges — just good old fun. But there were times when my irritation levels got out of hand and I was a mean old cow (all work stress) — all things a stable happy marriage can and should cope with, right? Except it got me thinking… how many Christmases can and will my happy stable marriage cope with before I also end up at a divorce lawyer on 8 January? What can I do to minimise the stress and irritation levels during this time? How many Christmases of being screeched at by a mean old cow will my DH tolerate before he does an 8th of January?
Yikes! I have resolved to be a nicer person at home over December and rather screech at the people I should be screeching at (journos at work who are late with delivering their copy and causing me to work well into the night almost every night) than my sweet family!
So here’s to a nicer, calmer, gentler me come Christmas 2010. I so don’t want to be a January 8 special.
Pic of Lord Muck ‘doing lunch’ days before Christmas.
I also found this really odd gift idea. Divorce vouchers! It reads:
Need a gift idea for that couple next door that never seems to stop arguing and fighting? A London, England law firm has come up with a gift idea for unhappy couples – divorce vouchers.
With the United Kingdom having one of the highest divorce rates in the world, it was only a matter of time before lawyers started looking at ways to lure in unhappy couples. The London law firm, Lloyd Platt & Company is now offering vouchers to couples for half-hour or hour-long advice sessions with a lawyer. According to Reuters, the law firm normally charges about $530 per hour long session with a lawyer but the vouchers run at approximately $200 for a half-hour session. The company has reportedly sold 60 of the vouchers since the start of the offer three weeks ago. In an interview with the Telegraph, senior partner Vanessa Lloyd Platt said, “Christmas can be a very stressful time for families as we have always seen by the huge increase of people seeking advice in January. The vouchers seem to appeal to an enormously wide spread spectrum of people looking for that ‘must have’ gift for Christmas.”
I know a couple of people who could do with these vouchers!
My first blogname was: I’m a Mommy. Help!
That was exactly how I felt. Once I’d settled in with lots of help and love from you guys, I changed it to Big Tom’s Mom. The nurses at the hospital where T was born callled him that as he was the biggest baby in the nursery by 2,1 kgs. I just think we had a crop of small babies with us… 4,3 isn’t that big… (she says now after she’d forgotten what 17 hours of trying to get him out felt like!)
The blog names I’d like to know the meaning of:
Mom & Moody
I have a friend who has a husband who is insanely rich. He cheats and treats her like dirt but she stays because she was told that it’s better to cry in an Audi Q7 than to cry in a little Polo Playa. Me? I’d rather laugh in a donkey cart than cry in a Chrysler 300C/ Volkswagen Touareg or any of those other big, expensive cars.
He takes her on expensive holidays overseas and of course a mistress or two always goes along(separately, of course) but she ‘doesn’t know’ (everyone else does). She has the most expensive EVERYTHING and loves rubbing it in our (read poor friends who live from payday to payday with just a little money (compared to them) saved in policies and stuff) faces.
What’s your take on this? Are you laughing in a hatchback or are you crying in a R1 million car? Or are you lucky enough to be laughing in a R1 million car?
It’s been HOT in Cape Town. So the only way to sleep is nekkid with a cool Egyptian cotton sheet. No problem. Unless you’re sharing your bed with a boisterous 7-week-old kitten. with claws and teeth. who wakes up to play every two hours. and I think still missing his mommy on account of all the mewling. DH has been muttering that just as we got the toddler to sleep in its own room — right through the night… I go and get a psycho kitty who insists on sleeping on DH’s chest or head! Shame. poor man — he was last seen heading into the lounge with a sheet and a pillow!
We have scratches in places we never ever in our wildest bonking sessions inflicted on each other! Hmmm those were the days – but, I digress. We have to do a whole lot of preventative wiggling, squirming and dancing in bed to avoid injury to delicate parts. Just trying to sleep is a workout! Oh the joys. And in true feline form, Lord Muck is in the middle of us — spread out like a lopsided Sphinx!
We have a new baby in our home! He’s a gorgeous, fluffy, mewling litte cutie. He’s seven weeks old and Thomas has named him Nala. I was getting broody and this is as far as my DH would indulge me.
Just realised this morning how quickly Thomas has progressed from little Avent sippy cup – to the grown-up 360 degree Amadeus cup that helps with their drinking out of a cup skill and now to the very grown-up Tommee Tippee straw sipper. Where has the time gone? 😦
Warning – a feeling sorry for myself post (yup, PMSing at the moment)
I’ve always been big-boned, too short for my weight etc. Have battled the bulge since the onset of puberty. But once I left my twenties behind I sort of made peace with it and decided to love my body. I met husband when I was 28 and although I was still insecure then, I was being loved by a hottie and was glowing.
Once Thomas arrived there was no time for body issues as there was the ‘baby issue’ to take care of. I must admit I also chilled out a lot after Thomas as I was in awe of what my body had done. I’m mostly at peace with my rolls and stretchmarks that look like fishmoths – they’re so pale and grey! But every now and then something happens that takes me right back to the tween who was being teased at junior school, the teen who was made to feel revolting because she didn’t conform to what hormonal teen boys thought was hot and the young woman who felt like a whale because she didn’t look like a Cosmo girl. Why is it that no matter how successful, happy and fulfilled you are – that little bullied/teased child from your childhood always makes an appearance and wrecks the party?
That something happened last week and I’m still feeling funny about it. Will obviously build a bridge and get over it like I’ve learnt to do but I just needed to tell someone. Thanks for listening.