romance

The most romantic thing you can do: Be kind

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20160910_133428As I unpacked the box of Imodium from my weekend bag I thought – Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

I organised every element of our third wedding anniversary getaway. I chose the destination – Whitstable and then Margate – I found the hotels, I booked the restaurants, I packed a dress that was going to require ironing before I wore it – the very definition of ‘putting the effort in’ – and put everything in place for the perfect mini-break.

But there are some things that you just can’t plan for, and food poisoning is one of them. Yes, on Thursday afternoon, the bloated feeling I hoped was just down to excessive cheese consumption turned into more quality time with our hotel bathroom than I would wish on anyone. To say this food didn’t agree with me would be an understatement. This was the Brexit to my Remain – it wanted to leave and it wanted to leave right NOW. And as much as I can try and joke about it, I was gutted. I’d been looking forward to this trip for weeks and to lose a third of it to sickness was just very annoying.

When you’ve been together a long time, you start to feel like you need to book in time to be romantic. You schedule hours, days and weekends during which to be your best selves – to watch sunsets, to sip cocktails, to eat dinner without the telly on. To pay the other person your fullest attention and remind them that you really do love them more than your phone/X-Box/cat.

But as wonderful as that kind of organisation can be – and it really can – things don’t always go to plan. And what matters is how you deal with that.

Leon has a lot of experience in this area as I have been accidentally unwell on numerous profoundly inconvenient occasions. It happened on our honeymoon when a dodgy plate of rice caused me to get as close as a human being can to exploding, it happened last year in Malta when I stupidly forgot to drink water in 34 degree heat and discovered just how well a body responds to that (not well, not well at all), and it happened right here in our house when the first oyster I ever consumed ensured that it would also be my last.

Charlotte and Leon Buxton wedding dayHis response is always the same – concern, a couple of gentle reminders that freaking out will only worsen my predicament, and then relentless (slightly irritating at the time, totally wise and sensible in retrospect) instructions to drink copious amounts of water to ensure my continued survival. He then amuses himself doing whatever he likes until I improve. He doesn’t get cross that I ruined the holiday or start asking me for an approximate time at which I’ll be ready to hit the gin again, he just offers quiet reassurance that I’ll be back on the Pringles before I know it and that he’ll be there to peel off the lid. And for that I will always be grateful.

Romance doesn’t always look how you think it will. They don’t tell you when you take your vows that at some point in your life the words “I bought the rehydration sachets you asked for” will be the most romantic sentence you’ve ever heard, but it will, believe me, particularly if your stomach is as weak as mine.

Being romantic isn’t all about buying candlelit dinners and cocktails, although I do recommend a health dose of both. It’s the little acts of kindness that show you care – the text to say ‘Good luck’ before a tricky day, the reassuring hand squeeze across a train carriage table that promises everything will be fine, or the early morning walk into town to buy raspberry flavoured salt replacement solutions that will gradually bring your patient back to life. They may not make it into the photo album, but these are the moments you’ll remember.

This anniversary may not have quite gone to plan but we certainly won’t be forgetting it in a hurry. Not only did it teach us to always choose a hotel that’s near a Boots, but it also reminded us that if we’re kind to each other, we can handle anything. And that’s something I’m up for celebrating every year.

It’s a shame that we missed out on the dinner I had planned and that we didn’t get to see another sunset together, but I can only hope there will be plenty more to come.

And on the plus side, I never did have to iron that dress. Every cloud has a silver lining, you know.

What it’s like to… go on your honeymoon

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IMG_5085What DO people do on their honeymoon? Do newly-weds really all look the same? In desperate pursuit of a new blog post format, I have conducted an interview with myself to find out the answers to all the big honeymoon questions. My effort at least should be appreciated.

Charlotte, good to see you, and may I say, what excellent hair. 
Why thank you, it’s just dry shampoo and two whacks of the hairbrush.
Well, it’s working for you. So, where did you go for the big H. M?
What?
Your honeymoon.
Oh, right. You do know it’s just one word don’t you?
Yeah, course…
Cool…. We went to Bali, Gili Trawangan and Lombok which are all in Indonesia.
Lovely. And were you surrounded by other people on their honeymoon, and forced to feel like getting married was the most generic, predictable thing you could have done?
There were a few around but lots of other people too. Newly-weds are easy to spot – they have very shiny wedding rings that have not yet been tarnished by normal things like cooking or toilet duck; she tends to have freshly manicured nails; and they both look exhausted. That ain’t jet-lag, that’s wed-lag.
I see what you did there, and I like it. So did you give the new surname a test drive whilst you were there?
Oh yes, and it was the perfect opportunity to try out my new signature too – every bicycle hired and fruity mocktail had to be signed for. I think I’ve nailed it now if you want to see?
Oh, that won’t be necessary; I’ve seen a signature before. And what sort of things did you do there?  
Well, aside from the usual sunbathing and whatnot we went to a bird park, saw reptiles, swam in a waterfall, visited a monkey forest, had a surfing lesson… [Charlotte interrupts]
HA! Sorry, I’m just imagining you on a surf board. Hahaha! 
Look, I can prove it *shows above photograph*. I even managed to stand up on the board, I’ll thank you.
No, thank YOU. So have you got any other, sorry, any funny stories from your trip?
Well, not so much funny but I did get a dose of food poisoning, or ‘Bali Belly’ as the guide book calls it, which saw all my bridal serenity go right down the toilet.
Ooh another pun, we are on fire today. That sounds nasty, did you lose much time?
Just a day, thankfully. On the plus side, I got to hear my husband refer to me as his wife a lot. He kept ringing reception to say things like: “My wife’s unwell, please can we have more water?” or “My wife would like a biscuit,” or “Please can I order a pizza? No, it’s for me, I think my wife’s asleep.”
Every cloud, eh. And did you stay in nice places and have the full five star experience?
Oh yes, when in Rome!
Sorry, I thought you said you went to Bali?
We did… Yes, we stayed in lovely places. In one hotel, they’d come into our room when we were out having dinner and leave surprises, like a honeymoon cake or a bath towel rolled into the shape of a duck.
A duck? Wow, that is impressive. A quacking idea, you might say.
No I wouldn’t, I like my puns a little more subtle.
Whatever… So tell me, did you find it hard to leave or were you ready to come home?
Oh no, I really didn’t want to come back – why would I? There’s no way our normal lives could be as good as the honeymoon. It’s all downhill from here.
Well that’s a lovely note to end on. Thank you Charlotte, and good luck with the marriage!
Cheers Charlotte, and to you with the writing gig. Someone should definitely give you a book deal.

You shall not pass! Why the toilet door stays closed

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You shall not passThere isn’t much we haven’t seen each other do.

He’s seen me fall face first into a dinghy.

I’ve seen him take the world’s longest tumble over a suitcase.

He’s seen me choke on blackcurrant squash ’til it came out my nose.

I’ve seen him drink so much whiskey he couldn’t find our bedroom.

He’s seen me learn the hard way that one must put sun cream on all four of one’s cheeks.

I’ve seen him find out that “Wash at 30 degrees” labels are not to be ignored.

There isn’t much we haven’t been witness to in the last eight years. That’s what being in a relationship means – signing up to be the one that gets to see (and laugh at) every single act.

Except one.

Going to the toilet, using the ladies, popping to the little boys’ room, relieving oneself of all that cordial… whatever you want to call it, we do it alone.

In this house, the bathroom door must be respected. Sure, he can wander in and grab his toothbrush when I’m washing my face, and I can interrupt his morning shower to remind him to please put the bin out, but if there’s anything else happening, we steer well clear.

But why be so prudish about something as basic as a little excretion? CHILL OUT GUYS, everybody wees, you might say.

Well yes they do, but that doesn’t mean it requires an audience. If a man uses the loo and there’s nobody there to hear it, does the flush still make a sound? I’m happy to take his word for it.

After this many years together it can be hard to maintain any illusion. We’re not the people we said we were on Date One and we’ve had to come to terms with that; he doesn’t really like Coldplay, he just said that to reel me in, and I don’t like football, I just meant that I would watch David Beckham games. He knows now that women’s legs aren’t permanently smooth (or smooth at all between October and March) and I realise that living with a man who goes to the gym has its sweaty, pungent downsides. But – if nothing else – at least we have spared each other the sight of what we look like when we empty our bodies of waste.

There’s not much privacy in a long term relationship – Why are you shaving like that? Are you sure your phone is charged? What are you doing sitting down when the bin is still overflowing? – so bathroom time is pretty much all we’ve got left.

Like so many things, I guess you just have to find what works for you, whether it’s an open door policy or the threat of divorce if you’re ever caught with your trousers down.

Either way, I recommend making sure you agree on this one. Otherwise, if you need the toilet as frequently as I do, you’ll find that you’re arguing about every 20 minutes.

And that’s just unhealthy.