My hubby and I had our first child last year, and we're so happy and proud to be the creators of the most adorable creature either of us has ever seen, but our marriage is tanking. We aren't naive; we expected change. But we're both stressed and exhausted and we never have sex. Our lives seem like one big dull, diaper-changing, kid-focused routine. The scariest thought keeps crossing my mind: What if our marriage can't survive our having a kid?
--Bundle Of Worry
Dr. Seuss is not a couples therapist. "Mr. Brown Can Moo! Can You?" needs to be followed up, at least one night a week, by Mommy and Daddy making some sounds that don't come from the horsie, the rooster, or the hippo.
The advice to have "date night" that you probably see everywhere but the bottom of your shoe is right on. Where it misses is in how to do it and why. Researchers have actually quantified where happiness comes from (no, not from stoned leprechauns passing around a bottomless bag of Doritos at the end of the rainbow). According to studies looking at fraternal and identical twins raised together and apart, how happy you are appears to be as much as 50 percent genetic. About 10 percent of your happiness level stems from your life circumstances (stuff like your health, income, and the fact that you are now parents and feel like you haven't had a good night's sleep since John Quincy Adams was president).
The good news is, about 40 percent of your happiness is within your control, through how you think and activities you can do (like date night). The bad news on the good news is something called "the hedonic treadmill," which is not a new form of torture at the gym. It's researchers' cute name for how we quickly adapt to both positive and negative changes in our lives and pop right back to our baseline level of happiness or mopeyness. This means it might not be enough to drag your weary, bleary parental cabooses out to dinner every Wednesday night. Sure, that's better than sitting home fretting that your kid won't get early admission to Harvard, but research by positive psychologists Dr. Kennon M. Sheldon and Dr. Sonja Lyubomirsky finds that variety -- "a continual stream of fresh, positive experiences" -- is key in increasing and sustaining happiness.
So, you need to go out on a variety of date nights -- changing up your activity every week and taking turns planning it so one of you will always be surprised. Lyubomirsky talked on my radio show about having Grandma babysit her toddler overnight and taking off with her husband to a hotel just a few miles from their house. (If you can't afford babysitters, or Grandma's six states away, trade babysitting with friends with a kid around the same age.) You don't have to do anything elaborate or expensive. You can borrow a Wii and ski the Swiss Alps from your living room rug, have a picnic dinner and then ride the Ferris wheel, or just go get hot dogs and make out in the car.
Keeping your sex life alive is what differentiates you two from very tired roommates who once got drunk, hooked up, and forgot birth control. Like many new parents, you probably think you're too exhausted to have sex, but maybe you're just too exhausted to have the spontaneous sex marathons you had before the kid came. First, forget the idea of spontaneity. Parental sex needs to be scheduled sex, or you'll probably never have it. You should also redefine sex as something along the lines of "doing things together naked." (Think of it as a snack-sized version of your former sex life.) Remember, the point isn't breaking endurance records; it's getting started making out and then having as much sexual activity as you can stay awake for.
I know, having a baby looks so idyllic in picture books. The stork drops him off one day, and then on the next page, he's 5. In real life, there are back-to-back trips to Poison Control, meaningful conversations about the day's shade of poo, and hopes that people will think you're just holding the baby for some other lady when he's screaming his lungs out on a plane. But, surely there are good times in between. And according to the research, another way to be measurably happier is expressing gratitude -- taking moments throughout the day to appreciate what you have and to express appreciation to each other. Put in some effort to be happy and maybe you'll not only stop fretting about divorce, you'll start having reckless sex (with each other), and before long, your husband will be taking time off from worrying that your 2-year-old doesn't have enough extracurriculars to read Dickens to your womb.
November 20, 2012You wrote in your column, "Men, especially, are compelled to ditch what's chasing them and chase what's trying to ditch them." It seems you're advising that the simple desire to love a man must be approached without authenticity and personal integrity. Must a woman really scheme to get a man, using a painfully conscious strategy based on men's psychological makeup, and wait and wait like Cinderella until he reaches out to her?
--Truth-Teller
For a woman of character, honesty is the best policy -- except when judicious honesty is a better policy, like on the second date, when you refrain from telling a guy that you and he should pick out side-by-side burial plots: "The moment I saw you, I just knew I wanted to decompose next to you!"
You think of employing restraint as "scheming." Um, scheming is talking a guy into a $10 million insurance policy and then sending him skydiving with a busted parachute. The notion that it's morally bankrupt to refrain from chasing a man is an idea out of some future gender-neutral utopia where everyone wears "Star Trek" uniforms, eats single little cubes of lunch, and grows babies in a Mason jar in their front room.
As I've written before, any sexual encounter had a hefty potential cost for a woman during the Stone Age -- a particularly crappy time to be a single mother. Because of this, women evolved to be choosier about partners, and men coevolved to expect that of them. Times have changed, but our psychology really hasn't. So, when a woman throws herself at a man like a big flopping flounder, he's likely to duck -- suspecting that she probably isn't worth having (for anything beyond a quick romp) if she's so easy to get. This is unfortunate, but whining endlessly about it is an ineffective strategy for getting what you want, unless what you want are polyps on your vocal cords.
What you're really arguing for is, "Why shouldn't I be able to throw all self-discipline out the window and have the man I want drop down my chimney like Santa?" In a similar vein, I often wonder why I've been unable to become incredibly wealthy by napping. (Welcome to real life. Please visit often in the future.)
The answer is neither throwing yourself at a man nor waiting for him to notice that you dropped your glass slipper. You flirt to indicate that you'd be interested in going out with him, if only he'd ask. Flirting takes patience and self-control, but it isn't exactly a horrible chore. It's playful and fun. Kind of like tag. You run a little, and if all goes well, the guy chases you. Men just love to chase things -- women, animals, purse-snatchers. In the U.K., they even have a tradition of chasing a big wheel of cheese down a hill. Wait -- don't get ideas. You will need to flip your hair and make eye contact and teasing remarks. You can't just throw yourself down a grassy incline.
Thanks to recent medical issues, my husband of 10 years can no longer get an erection, and our sex life has dried up. Sitting side by side on the couch watching the Food Network is, no doubt, a marvelous way to spend an evening; it's just that we thought those kinds of evenings were a bit further down the road for us. No offense, but writing you this has been the most romantic thing we've done as a couple in quite some time. Help!
--Prematurely Old
So, his penis refuses to stand up anymore: "Is that a piece of lasagna in your pocket...?" As devastating as this may seem, it's no reason to have a funeral for your entire sex life. (If your stove broke, would you stop eating?)
Chances are, your retirement from sex has less to do with recent penile developments than believing that the only "real" sex is the hot dog into the Lincoln Tunnel variety. Sex therapist Dr. Marty Klein points out in Sexual Intelligence that many people make the mistake of defining what sex is by how their bodies work at 18 or 25, and then, ridiculously, cling to that vision into their 30s, 40s, and beyond, when they have far different bodies.
Because physical intimacy is pretty essential for maintaining emotional intimacy, thinking this way can be relationship-wrecking. Turn off the TV and start making out and doing the kajillion sex things that don't require perfectly functioning hydraulics. Watching Paula Deen re-enact "Last Tango in Paris" with a pork chop has its merits, but exploring Klein's advice -- that "there isn't any part of your body that can't be erotically charged" -- should prove far sexier and a lot less likely to give you diabetes.
I married a domineering man 20 years my senior. We have two college-age kids. I've spent the past 22 years (half my life) navigating his ill-temperedness and high expectations, and my life is often chaotic and unhappy. For nine months, I've been infatuated with my super-hot 25-year-old co-worker, "Dax." I've tried to distance myself, but my husband met Dax, saw how buff Dax is, and offered him a landscaping job at our home! Because my husband is such a jerk, I was sure he'd drive Dax away, but he and Dax have great rapport! Dax laughs off my husband's snide comments and teases back and even flirts with me in front of him. He's now joining us for dinner, my husband's making him egg sandwiches in the morning, and my daughter called him "kinda like a sister." I'm having intense sexual fantasies, and my marital love life has perked up because I'm constantly turned on. My rational mind says this is a runaway train, and my crush-addled brain is trying to arrange alone time with him. I fantasize that my hubby will run away with someone so I can be with Dax.
--Lust-Whacked
Be careful what you wish for. The way things are going, it shouldn't be long before you come down to the breakfast table and walk in on your husband cutting up egg sandwiches and playfully popping them in Dax's mouth.
In fact, it seems your cabana boy needs a sign-up sheet. When he isn't busy removing his shirt in your backyard and letting sweat glisten on his taut pecs and drip down to his tight abs, he's got tease-offs with your husband. Then, it's off to the mall for a little shoe shopping with your daughter -- before sitting down for the family dinner. An aspiring two-timing wife just can't get a sex rendezvous in edgewise!
So, your husband is "ill-tempered" and "domineering" -- and apparently has been for 22 years. By all means, do nothing about that. (If only snubbing your problems would make them hang their little heads and slink away.) Of course, getting naked in the tool shed with a sexalicious lawnboy is loads more fun than getting emotionally naked with your husband and some disapproving therapist. The thing is, fair play in a marriage involves sticking to that boring "forsake all others" business until you've notified your spouse that you want out of your contract. And no, letting him catch you in bed with your lawn intern doesn't count as notification.
It isn't too late to take the step you should've when you first started feeling miserable in your marriage -- do that adult thing and use your words. Tell your husband how unhappy you are -- in a way that motivates him to take action and makes him feel that he may lose you if he doesn't change. Think of this as triggering a positive crisis -- positive in that it gives you a shot at turning a despot into a husband and a dictatorship into a partnership. You may ultimately decide to end your marriage, but at least you'll do it in a way that doesn't leave your kids with a sordid story of how Mom left Dad for the lawn guy and then the lawn guy left Mom for a hot 22-year-old with crabgrass.
I do some volunteer work, and I've fallen hard for this guy who volunteers with me, and he seems to be into me, too. The thing is, I'm a vegetarian, and he appears to mainly subsist on cheeseburgers. He seems to be a great guy, but is this doomed before it starts?
--Veggie Girl
The question isn't whether opposites attract. The question is, Would they spend the entire evening fighting over whether one's chicken bone touched the other's frying pan? The answer to that question hinges on your answer to a few more questions, like, Why are you a vegetarian? Do you hear "medium-rare" and think "morally bankrupt," or do you just think meat is icky? And let's say you're okay with the ethics of meat-eating. When you think of kissing the guy, are you imagining his lips on yours or around that chopped dead cow? Next, consider that cooking together would probably be more like cooking separately together but with shared meat stench. And finally, be sure you wouldn't eventually feel compelled to bully him into becoming a meatless meatball eater, like by starting a cute mealtime ritual of estimating what percentage of the rainforest was destroyed by farting cows to put that steak on his plate. Thanks, hope you enjoy your dinner, too.
Seven months ago, when I met my boyfriend, I had no idea he had so many female friends. I'm 26; he's 30. I understand having opposite-sex friends to get perspective on dating, but he's like one of their girlfriends. He gabs on the phone with them constantly, and they treat him like their little teddy bear, inviting him to baby showers, bringing him leftovers, and baking him cookies. He only understands my jealousy as fear that he will cheat. But, these are married girls he's known for years, and he's not a sleazeball. I'm not scared of catching him in bed with another woman; I'm terrified I'll overhear him discussing what color she should paint the baby's room. I know he won't be comfortable telling his girlfriends that he picks out nail polish with only one woman from now on -- me! I don't feel he needs these relationships when he's in a serious relationship, and it isn't their job to take care of him.
--Feeling Inadequate
He isn't just your man; he's the married hens' pet mandroid. Kind of like their own super-adorable version of "The Terminator": "I'll be back...to help you pick out panty liners!"
From the way you describe the guy, it sounds like his testosterone level is somewhere between zero and "crying softly while hiding under the bed." But you apparently didn't find him under-manly when you started dating him and apparently don't now; you're just upset to learn that he's been moonlighting as a gay decorator.
Odd as it is to have a boyfriend whose homies are a bunch of suburban homemakers, outside friendships can help keep a relationship alive. (No one person shares their partner's every interest or meets their every need.) Outside friendships can also go too far -- like if your boyfriend's confiding things he'd otherwise confide in you, ditching you to hang with them, or answering the phone during sex as their first responder for nail polish emergencies: "Definitely 'Baby's Breath' over that trampy 'Seashell Pink'!"
If you aren't icked out because he likes scrapbooking and sipping chard with the ladies, and you don't feel shortchanged in time, energy, and attention, maybe the real problem is insecurity on your part. It is understandable that you feel a little jealous. When you get into a relationship with a guy, you expect to be his one-and-only, and not feel like you need to get in line behind the housewife harem bringing him plates of homemade brownies.
Stamping your foot and ordering him to ditch the biddies is a bad idea. Even if you got him to cave, resentment would surely rise up in him to fill the void. What you can do is tell him what you need. Explain that you aren't worried he'll cheat, just anxious that he's got a bunch of women in his life who mean a lot to him, who do kinda girlfriendy things for him, who have a history with him that you don't. Get him to tell you what he sees in you and why he's with you. This should help you recognize that these women are special to him, but not special-special, like you, which should help you rest easier when he comes home smelling like he spent the night singing into hairbrushes with the girls.
Men apparently see the organic grocery's salad bar as the new singles bar. Sorry, but after a long day, I want to load up my container in peace, not get hit on with "So, what's on the menu tonight?" or "You know, I make a mean kale salad." (Didn't know, don't care.) I'm getting so annoyed at this always happening that I'm tempted to say to the next guy, "What makes you think I want to have a conversation with you?"
--Girl, Interrupted
Sadly, shopping local often involves ducking the locals. (If only the salad bar came with a sleaze guard.) Though you could pelt these guys with croutons or cutting remarks, venting anger actually makes it worse -- biochemically and psychologically. Wearing a big rock on your finger should stop some men from approaching, and mentioning "my husband" should chase away any who already have. You'll ultimately feel better if you make the tiny effort to ditch them with dignity; treat them like they have value as human beings (if annoying ones) and like their feelings matter. You might also consider yourself lucky. The day may come when men look at you with all the longing they have for a bench. At that point, you'll still be complaining: "What's the world come to when a little old lady spends six hours getting a box of sprouts without attracting a single guy wanting to do wheatgrass shots off her abs?"