rel="nofollow" href="#fb3_img_img_4a982d06-2c1e-5ce9-b56e-21f0e45948d0.jpg" alt=""/> Sort the rest into urgent and non-urgent. Leave all urgent things in the middle of your work space in the kitchen so you can’t do anything until you’ve paid that bill or RSVPed that invitation.
Get a nice container for all non-urgent incoming mail. Ours is a pretty, metal hanging basket, and it’s very narrow so it fills up quickly. As soon as it looks even full-ish we know it’s time to go through it. This means nothing is ever more than a week old when we come to deal with it, which is usually fine—it’s non-urgent, see?
Know who pays which bills. In impressively forward-thinking fashion, my husband pays all the household bills and credit cards. Actually, we only have one credit card, but he still checks the bill and pays it every month. This is so embarrassingly old-fashioned that I cringe as I think of it, but it saves me so much hassle that I am prepared to live with the scolding from ghosts of feminists past. Anyway, I deal with everything else, like baby-sitters, all school correspondence, sorting out school holidays and half-terms, making sure my children get to see a dentist more than twice before they are teenagers, and tons more. This set-up works for us, and it means we avoid most ‘What do you mean, “Have I cancelled the direct debit for the gas”? I didn’t even know we had one’ arguments. Sometimes old-fashioned rocks.
Destroy the evidence. Never throw away any documents that have your bank details or address clearly visible on them. This goes for recycling too. Either get a small shredder for such material or make sure you rip it up into teeny-weeny pieces before throwing it away. Those identity fraudsters are not ashamed to go through your bin.
Be honest. This applies to every chapter of this book, of course: honesty is the bedrock of all relationships, along with firm abs and a man who knows his wife is always right (it’s best you know right from the start that I’m joking when I say things like this, otherwise the next 400 pages won’t go down well at all). Not owning up to the girly lunch and spending spree you enjoyed last month will not only cause trouble when it crops up on the statement, but it will also result in understandably wavering trust on his part. If you love each other there’s nothing you need to hide, or feel so bad about that he won’t forgive you. Honesty, trust and forgiveness—it’s quite simple, and it works.
Family Notice Board: Weddings, funerals and other family gatherings
If there’s one thing guaranteed to create some kind of family ripple, wave or tsunami it’s a family gathering. It’s hard enough just getting along with those in your immediate family, without throwing grannies, aunts, in-laws and lots of alcohol into the mix as well, but it’s occasionally required that the whole gaggle of you get together to celebrate somebody’s birth, death, marriage or whatever.
Enough has been written about such gatherings to fill the hole in the ozone layer, because there is just so much potential for a good story. A bust-up, a reunion, a love affair, a drunken argument, grannies getting sloshed, uncles flirting, mothers weeping—oh, it’s all there when a family gets together, so you had better be prepared for some fireworks.
Weddings
I’ve been to a silly number of weddings in the last ten years, and they have all fallen into two categories: those that allow children, and those that don’t. There is rarely any in-between category, unless the bride and groom are prepared to fight it out with those relatives or friends whose kids have been singled out and banned from attending. ‘No, it’s not because they are evil, noisy, smelly little bastards, but because there isn’t enough room in the chapel’ will never work.
Having kids at a wedding can be lovely: it brings a special kind of ‘Ah, this is what it’s all about’ joy to the occasion, and there are always moments of mirth when a three-month-old burps loudly, or a toddler is heard asking why the bride’s mother is wearing such a disgusting hat. But it can also be a pain in the neck. Nobody wants the ‘I do’ they’ve been rehearsing for three months to be drowned out by screaming, their table decorations to be used as ammunition between rival cousins, or the dance floor to turn into a Wiggles concert.
Never dispute what’s on the invitation. If it says no kids, that’s it.
Never, ever ask if your child can be a bridesmaid, pageboy, flower girl thingy, etc. It’s unbelievably rude, and someone will only get hurt.
Take some sweets for the service that don’t come in noisy wrappers. Oh, and a small book, and an extra dummy if your baby uses them.
Sit by the aisle to facilitate a hasty exit. Near the front is fine, so they can see, but an aisle seat is essential.
Leave immediately if your children start to make noise.
Don’t get there too early. They will be bored before the bride arrives.
Don’t get wrecked at the reception. You still have to be able to look after your kids, even if Jane and Tom did just get hitched. Hic!
Try to find a hotel with a babysitting service near the reception. Then you can really let your hair down without worrying about them (much).
Agree who is taking the kids home before you get there. It is usually me, because I fall asleep at 10 p.m. and am happy to go to bed. My husband likes to be the last man propping up the bar at 3 a.m. More fun, yes, but he looks like shit the next day—hah!
Funerals
Parents often debate whether children should come to funerals, and indeed whether they should know about death at all until they are well beyond the tooth-fairy stage. How much this becomes an issue for your children obviously depends on how many grand-parents and other elderly relatives they have, and lose, as they grow up. Our kids had young parents and so were lucky enough to have four of their great-grandparents still alive until recently. This number has now dwindled to leave only one, very youthful great-grandmother, with the result that they have already been to a number of funerals. We have always been very open and honest about death, preferring to tell it straight rather than making up any ‘going to sleep for a long time/going to heaven’ type of stories, but it’s a personal choice. Here are some death-related tips worth knowing:
Know how much your child can understand. We felt ours could handle the whole Death thing, so we told them. They have never had a problem with it. If you think yours isn’t ready (but remember they are often a lot more matter-of-fact and ready to accept the weirdest of notions than we are) then you’ll have to find some way of explaining it gently, or of keeping schtum.
