WE MOVED!!!!

You might have noticed a bit of, well, inactivity on this site of late. It is not that I am trying to ignore you. Not at all.

I have, however, been in the midst of a cross-country move from Vancouver, British Columbia to Toronto, Ontario. From the time we signed the paperwork agreeing to the relocation to the time the movers showed up on our front door step was a mere five weeks. That didn’t seem all that absurd to me when we signed the papers - I was so utterly naïve!!

As you can well imagine, the past couple months have been completely chaotic and it has been all I can do to keep up with my coaching appointments. And needless to say (although I will spell it out for you) writing my blog has slipped off the radar completely.

I am pleased to announce that I am (somewhat) settled. Eric and I are indeed in Toronto (Riley’s trip to Texas turned out to be amazing timing) but we are living in a hotel since our house will not be ready until October. All of our things are tucked away in a couple of containers at the mover’s storage facility so we don’t feel completely at home, but at least we are parked in one place for six weeks.

The good news is that I have a list of blog posts that I cannot wait to write. Stay tuned!

The Flat Tire

Last week, when I was driving Riley to school, I heard a weird noise coming from the wheel well that even I, who is not in any way mechanically inclined, knew was not a good sign.

I pulled over at the next safe place and got out of the car to inspect the damage. Sure enough, the wheel was flat. Making a quick phone call to the school to tell them that Riley would be late was easy. Figuring out how to proceed was more difficult. Eric was out of town, and (to be brutally honest) I forgot in the panic of the moment that we had Roadstar Assistance because I have never used it before.

I did briefly consider changing it myself. To my father’s defense, he had taught me how to change a tire as one of the rites of passage that every teenage girl should undergo. But that was back in high school (eons ago) and I knew for a fact that my tires had been put on with pneumatic tools. Even if I could remember what to do, I seriously doubted that I had the strength to do it.

Even though he was far away, Eric did prove to be extraordinarily helpful. He hopped on the internet and got me the name and number of our tire shop and recommended I call them. When the man picked up the phone, I threw myself on his mercy. I played the “husband out of town” and “five-year-old in the backseat” cards like a champ.

“Where are you?”, he asked after he had explained that he probably couldn’t help because he had a guy out sick and another out of the shop. When I told him, he said, “Hang on, I think my guy is two blocks from you!” Sure enough, my knight in shining armor (or at least a ball cap and big truck) showed up five minutes later.

Within moments, he had the spare on my car and was heading back to the shop to start fixing my tire. The problem? It had gotten screwed. Literally. Evidently, I had run over the screw at one of the many construction sites around our house. What a humorous way to start the day.

You might be wondering how this story has anything to do with passion. Here’s the deal: I had rushed out of the house that morning without any makeup on. To you, that might not be a big deal. In fact, that might be how you start every morning (especially if you are a reader of the male persuasion). But I grew up in Texas. And Texan women of my generation don’t go to the grocery store to pick up a gallon of milk without putting on makeup. It’s just what we do.

As a result of this upbringing, there are at most 3 times a year that I will venture out without a full complement of makeup. This was one of those times…and I got caught with a flat tire. I felt decidedly unattractive.

The gentlemen at the tire store didn’t seem to notice. I suppose the fact that I live in British Columbia, wherein makeup is definitely optional, made me blend in better.

The next day, I went back to the tire shop to get my winter tires removed (which technically was before the official start of summer, so I felt okay about that). Since I had clients to meet and things to do, I looked, well, normal. When I eneterd the store, the guy at the front desk looked somewhat surprised and said, “You look different today.” I responded, “You caught me on a bad day yesterday.” And then he said something that amazed me, “Funny, I thought I caught you on a great day.”

Now, he could have been being kind. After all, they do give superb customer service at this shop (as evidenced by my rescue the day before) and so maybe it is second nature to assuage the embarrassment of female patrons.

Or maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe how I see myself isn’t how others see me. Maybe what I personally find “attractive” doesn’t register as necessary or even as “attractive” for others.

When I am teaching clients on the importance of attractiveness, I always stress how important it is to ask your spouse what s/he finds attractive. Taking care of yourself and putting effort into how you appear is important to keep the passion alive in your relationship but how this looks is different to everyone. You could spend hours of time on something that you think makes you look hot but your spouse doesn’t give a rip. In that process, you might be overlooking what really matters to him/her. So, how do you know for sure? Ask.

All things considered, I am glad that I had a flat that day. I was able to experience, with fresh eyes, things that I tell my clients.  And if you’re going to be wrong about something, being seen as attractive when you don’t think you are is a pretty decent thing to be wrong on.  Maybe I don’t always have to be right!!

What about you?   Are you sure you know what your lover finds attractive?

My First Mammogram

I have had plenty of scary moments in my life.  I left my family to attend law school in Scotland when I was 17 years old. I told a boss “no” when his request violated my moral integrity…and then had to pay the consequences of my decision.  I stood vigil and watched as my father took his last breath - knowing it would make me an orphan.  I listened to the sound of mortars and watched tracer fire streaking overhead as rebels fought government forces in the African country we were visiting.  I prayed and held onto my infant daughter when our airplane couldn’t get its landing gear down in time to land.  I tried to wrap my mind around what the doctor was telling me when he said that our one-year old had a potentially life-threatening condition.  Yes, I have had many scary moments.

Yesterday provided another. Yesterday, I had my first mammogram.

Now, you might think that going to get my boobs squished shouldn’t even crack the above list. But for me, it was loaded with emotional overtones.

My mother died of ovarian cancer when I was 18 and her sister, my maternal aunt, is a two-time breast cancer survivor. In case you are unaware, geneticists link those two cancers together and say they can run in families. After much agonizing, I decided not had the testing done to see if the genetic marker is present in my family. For me, I simply do not want to live with a label stamped on my forehead.

But just because I have made this choice does not mean that I choose inaction. There are plenty of positive things I can do which will be much more personally productive than taking a test. For example, I limit the amount of sugar that I put into my body. I also watch the types of protein that I eat. I pay close attention to my body and listen to what it is telling me. Of course, some days I am better than others in making good choices.

But as I make these choices, I stand up to my fear. I choose to see it for what it is and refuse to allow it to control me. I think that, when it came to having a mammogram, I was deeply afraid of a number of things, but one fear that got me sweating (and you can’t wear deodorant to the exam) was the pain.

I had been told that mammograms were extremely painful. That was not my experience. I had a technician who was very attuned to making me feel as comfortable as possible. Contrary to what I had envisioned, there was not a plate that came slamming down on my breast. The technician slowly moved the plates into place and then fine-tuned the compression with a hand control. While I can definitively say it was not the most comfortable situation I have found myself in, it was not entirely unpleasant either.

At one point in the exam, I mentioned this to the tech. “This isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be!” She then told me that so many women who come in for their first mammogram are terrified. Terrified of a painful experience. Terrified of what the doctor might find. Terrified of being naked. Terrified to have their breasts touched by a complete stranger.

In that moment, it occurred to me that when we enter the mammography room, we are coming face to face with our views on our breasts. If we are not truly comfortable in our skin, this is one place where it is going to come out in full force.

At best, most of us have an ambiguous relationship with our breasts. They are too small or too saggy or have stretch marks on them. Sure, they are functional when the babies come along. And the boys like them too. But many of us stuff them in poorly sized bras, manhandle them once a month to look for lumps and tolerate the attention that they receive from everyone else who is trying to get a piece of the action. Placing them into a machine - even if it is the responsible thing to do - seems like part of the continuum of function rather than embracing the feminine.

Modern-day culture has done little to encourage the feminine aspects of our breasts. Dr. Christiane Northrup humorously says that we are taught to believe that they are just pre-cancerous lumps that hang from our chest. The admonitions that we receive from the fashion industry are that we need to change in order to be “good enough”. The porn industry has made things even worse: if you aren’t a DD, then you can forget having a man look at you longingly. And coming from our North American puritanical roots there is a strong undercurrent that says whatever the size, they should be covered and hidden from view - even strapped down like their very existence is an embarrassment.

These are all distortions of how we should view our breasts. They are a beautiful part of our femininity. Regardless of their size or shape, they set us apart from men and children. For centuries, they have been worshiped in art. They are adored in the Bible. (Yes, you heard me correctly, the Bible.) I think it is time for us to see them from this perspective.

When was the last time you looked at your naked self in the mirror and said, “I love you”? Does that sound absurd? Think of it this way: how we view ourselves comes from our belief system. If we believe that we are beautiful and wonderful just as we are, then we will be able to fully embrace our femininity. And that begins with the messages that we send ourselves.

A very interesting thing begins to happen when we learn to love our breasts (and our bodies by extension). The fear dissipates. Instead of looking for something inadequate or wrong, we are enjoying the creation reflected in the mirror. We shift from a critical eye to a loving eye.

And honestly, if “love your neighbor as yourself” is ever going to mean anything, then don’t we have to actually love ourselves??  All of ourselves?

A few days ago my 5-year-old daughter got her pictures taken for her ballet performance.  We dressed her and her friends up in adorable ladybug costumes, increased the size of the hole in the ozone layer with the amount of product we put in their hair, and put a ridiculous amount of makeup on them.  When we finished all this, my daughter looked at herself in the mirror.  After starting at herself for a minute, she threw her arms up, twirled around and shouted, “I’m beautiful, I’M BEAUTIFUL!!”

When was the last time you felt that way about yourself?

That’s too long.  It’s time you remembered what my daughter just learned - sometimes you just need to dance and shout to everyone how beautiful you feel about yourself.  Why don’t you give it a try?

Yes, I mean right now.  And then go schedule your mammogram - it’s a great way to show your boobs exactly how much you love them!

Winning Isn’t Everything

Not too long ago, a dear friend came to visit us. During the course of her stay, we had much discussion about her new career. After years of working in the field of web design, she has taken to has taken up designing board games. She seems to have a natural talent for it; two of her prototypes have a very strong potential to be published in the next year.  Not bad for a newbie designer.

Because my repertoire of games runs the very uncreative gambit from Go Fish to Monopoly, I found this new world to be completely fascinating. The more I learned about the intricacies of the process of publishing games, the more impressed I became. And, of course, you can’t hang out with a game designer without playing a lot of games. So, after Riley was put to bed at night, our friend would pull out various games and we would play.

One game, Dominion, was addictive. We played every chance we could get. The hours would melt away, and I would look at the clock in horror when I realized it was late into the morning hours and we were still playing.

Needless to say, once our friend returned home, Eric and I immediately purchased the game. After all, TV had become incredibly boring in light of the fact that we could collect gold and potions and other such fun baubles.

Fairly quickly, however, I noticed a disturbing trend. Eric and I would play; he would beat me (badly); I would get angry; I would go to bed in a huff. Evidently, my husband’s skill at the game had escaped my notice when there were several people playing and was magnified when it was just the two of us. We were not just playing the game of Dominion on the kitchen table; it was manifesting itself in our relationship too. The fact that he won ALL THE TIME had me seriously pissed off.

Have you ever tried to have sex when you are pissed off? It doesn’t work so well. Pretty soon I noticed that it had been a long time since we had sex. (I will refrain from mentioning a specific time frame here only because I believe that every one should decide for their own relationship how much sex is “enough”. Just take my word that, for us, it was a long time.)

Since we both saw the pattern of drought that was emerging, we would start the evening with the best of intentions. “Let’s play a quick game and then have sex,” I would enthuse. (Why didn’t I reverse the order, you ask? Simply put, our five-year old does not go to sleep immediately at bed time, so we have a “no sex” safety-buffer zone for about an hour after we put her down.)

And then, after one game, I would want another…and another. But by the time my husband had thoroughly trounced me over and over, I was physically and emotionally exhausted and ready to call it an evening. “I don’t like playing with you,” I would pout. Until the next night came and I would ask to play again. Seriously, a therapist would probably have a field-day with me.

I did get me thinking, though. The game of Dominion might seem like a silly example, but there are lots of little irritations that we allow to invade our sex lives:

• He doesn’t pick up his socks and has no clue about the enormous amount of housework that I have to do = No sex for you buddy.
• She is watching her TV shows (again), so I will roll over and fall asleep. Pocket veto.

Really, at the end of the day, there are so many things that get in the way of a good sex life that really shouldn’t get in the way. Isn’t your sex life more important?

Finally, FINALLY, I took a bit of my own advice and decided to do something about this issue. I had a few options:

1)   I could stop playing the game.

2)   I could change my attitude towards winning. My husband, to his defense, was trying to teach me new strategies so that I could get better. He wasn’t being a jerk about the whole thing. Really. No, really.

3)   I could do some work during the “buffer” time, then have sex, then play the game. (And get pissed off or not at that point…either way it wouldn’t have impact on our sex life!)

4)   Try other options that hadn’t yet occurred to me.

Recognizing what we need to change and then going and making that change is challenging. My problem was that I enjoyed the behaviour that ultimately led to my anger. I liked playing the game. I liked trying to win. But the long-term effect was counter-productive for my relationship. So I needed to change.

I personally chose a combination of options 2 and 3. We still play the game, and I still have delusions of beating Eric, but it no longer has a negative impact on our sex life. And in my mind, that is a pretty big win.

And I take my wins where I can get them, because they still aren’t happening in Dominion…but I’m not bitter (anymore)!!

The Greatest Gift

When was the last time you told your children how much you love your spouse?

That’s right.

When was the last time you looked your kids in the eyes and said, “I am so in love with your Dad [or Mom]“?

Are you terrified that they will feel unloved? Are you nervous that they will fall over themselves and say, “Ahhhh, that’s gross!!” Would they be totally confused? What holds you back?

Recently, I had to explain the concept of divorce to my daughter. Our goddaughter is part of a blended family, and so when my daughter asked some probing questions about them, I decided to answer honestly (but with brevity since she is only five). Many of Riley’s schoolmates come from single-parent households, but this was the first time she connected the dots with someone who is really close to our family.

The sadness that Riley felt was palpable. She didn’t understand how two people could marry and then divorce. It was incomprehensible to her that you would not live with the father of your child. In fact, she was so disturbed by the concept that she had another heart-to-heart with her teacher that day at school. I wish we were all so disturbed by divorce. The impact on a family is truly nothing less than devastating.

Kids live with the fear that their mom and dad will split up. This is understandable. They see it on TV (in one of Riley’s favourite shows, the dad is conspicuously absent). It is happening to their friends all around them. Why wouldn’t they wonder if they are next?

I believe that one of the greatest gifts you can give your kids is love for your spouse. Your marital happiness is the foundation of your family unit. And your kids need to hear about it. They need to know that you go on dates because your relationship with each other is precious. They need to see you flirt and cuddle and laugh. They need to hear that you love each other.

I don’t care if you are on your first, second or third marriage…if you are committed to making it work, then talk about how much you love your spouse around your kids.

“Riley, I love your Daddy.”

“Yeah, I know Mom. You tell me that all the time.”

Perhaps she will appreciate it more when she marries. Until then, I will have to keep modeling it for her.

Don’t Wait for the Movie

I love movies.  In fact, I am so ready for Prince of Persia to come out.  I watch them in theaters, I rent them, I watch them on TV.  I honestly love to watch a good movie - action, adventure, “chick-flick”, drama, comedy, documentary, art house, even some foreign films…pretty much anything but horror (and I used to love those too, but as I have gotten older I just can’t do them anymore).  My point is that I love movies.  They are a great way to relax, to escape, and to imagine yourself in another place and time.  They are like books, but without all the time consuming reading!

BUT, and there always seems to be a but, generally speaking, what movies are not intended to be is a form of education.  The things people “learn” from movies is actually fascinating in a horribly morbid way.  If you talk to enough people, you will find that many believe that movies are by their nature “historically accurate”.  That somehow the phrase “based on actual events” implies that everything (or anything) in the movie actually happened - or happens.

Nowhere is this truer than when it comes to relationships and sex.  Whether we realize it or not, we all pick up subtle things from movies that we expect to find in our actual lives.

I was talking with a dear friend the other day and we came up with a couple of laughable “truths” that movies have taught people.  For example:

Sex requires a soundtrack.
Don’t get me wrong…if my husband puts Def Leopard on the iTunes list and hits play then somebody’s getting “lucky”.  I do find that music can set the stage, but how many times in a movie have you seen people orgasm right as the soundtrack hits a powerful crescendo?  OK, how many times has that ever happened in real life??  Besides, how long should a romantic playlist be anyway?  How many songs would cover foreplay, sex and cuddling?  How awkward if the music stopped before you did - “sorry honey, I honestly thought 4 songs would be more than enough…” And what if you finished 2 tracks before your very favorite song came on…

Lets be honest about this one.  Sex does not require a soundtrack - unless of course you are trying to mask the noises from children who might be able to hear you.

Couples always finish together.
Did I mention I love movies?  I love how in movies every woman has an orgasm every time she has sex.  In fact, more often than not couples have amazing simultaneous, face-to-face orgasms every time they have sex.  Fiction is such a wonderful thing.  Most women cannot reach orgasm from vaginal penetration alone, and the rating system doesn’t encourage sex toy product placement to explain how this experience might be possible.

Women never walk around naked after sex.
I have never grabbed the sheets off the bed, wrapped them around me and walked to the kitchen or bathroom after sex.  Are you kidding me?  Then I would have to put the sheet back on the bed after I got back.  Nothing says “we just had good sex” like telling your lover to move his butt so you can put the sheets back on the bed after you tromp to the fridge for a post - coital snack.

You just had sex.  Pretty sure that him seeing you naked falls further down the intimacy scale than having sex with each other.  How many of you grab your husband’s button down dress shirt and put that on to go pee?  I love wearing my husband’s shirts to lounge in.  But again - just had sex, so him seeing me walk naked somewhere is not outside my comfort zone.

A sub-section to this is that in movies the sheets in a bed naturally make a “L” shape allowing his sculpted chest to be completely visible while her voluptuous chest is completely covered while they sit up, side-by-side in bed.  Because obviously women cover up their boobs and men flaunt their nipples and bellybuttons.

Sure - this happens all the time in real life.  Men never keep a t-shirt on in bed.  And women always prefer to go topless with the sheets covering them rather than to put a shirt on.  It is just like my life!  Yours too right?!

Sex makes babies, no matter what.
I want to be clear that sex is how babies are made - mainly.  But there have been a slate of movies that imply that getting pregnant is pretty much assured by having sex once. (Knocked Up, Juno, Secret Life of the American Teenager) As part of a couple who has tried for years to get pregnant, I want to be gentle when I say that’s a load of crap.  Now, if Hollywood were trying to actively reduce pre-marital sex, or dissuade young men and women from participating in sexual relations until they were “ready”, then maybe then I might cut them some slack.  But Hollywood has never been one to poo-poo promiscuity so I just have to call BS on this one.    Sex makes babies.  Sometimes.  And sometimes not.  Even when you want it to.

Only beautiful women have sex.
Luckily it is usually to beautiful men.  Did I mention I am looking forward to Prince of Persia…

Also, these beautiful women can have hours of mind blowing sex (ending with simultaneous orgasm of course), sleep wonderfully for hours afterwards and wake up with fresh breath and immaculate make-up.

Ok, those are some of the myths that get perpetuated through movies, but there are so many more.   I read a great article the other day and one of the issues broached by the author was how some men learn about sex by watching porn movies.  In her role as a counselor, she had a lady come to her that was confused because during sex, her lover would pull his penis out of her and slap her vagina with it, and then put it back in.  She was dumbfounded by this and was too embarrassed to say anything to him.  It just seemed bizarre to her.  Her counselor explained to her that this particular action is often done in porn to enhance the visuals for the camera.  He had obviously watched some pornography and was trying to be “good at sex” by doing what he saw on film.  It has nothing to do with sex, but the female actors usually moan when it is done (no doubt to enhance the audio for the movie) so he must think that women liked it and was trying to please her.  According to the article, the couple had, what I am sure was, an awkward discussion, but they were able to talk about it and put that particular move to bed, so to speak.

Here’s my question to you - what other subtle (or not so subtle) things have you seen portrayed as “normal” in movies that are worlds away from truth in real life?  Join in on this discussion.  You’re guaranteed to get a good giggle out of it.

I Seem to Have Misplaced My Orgasm

I recently received this excellent question from a lady who was attending one of my Passion Salons. She asked:

My question is regards to orgasm. I love having sex with my husband and we have regular sex… but I orgasm maybe twice a year. I suppose it’s possible that my reactions are small or I am unaware with the signs. We have tried many toys to help, lots of oral sex but I am just not there.  Is this possible?  Could I be missing something?

Now while there are numerous ways to approach a situation in which a woman wants to enjoy orgasm more frequently (there are all sorts of psychological, physical and environmental reasons why orgasm might be difficult), there is one strategy that I would like to highlight for the purposes of this blog: LOOK FOR THE EXCEPTIONS.

When we look for exceptions, we realize that there are times when things do go the way we would like them to go, and we analyze the circumstances around these times. For example, he doesn’t always throw his underwear on the floor…occasionally, he will pick it up and put it in the laundry hamper. Or, she doesn’t always feel the need to have a deep heart to heart talk in the middle of a televised ball game.

The power for looking for exceptions is that when you identify the circumstances that produced positive results, you have a much higher chance of duplicating them and thereby getting what you want on a more consistent basis. Perhaps your husband puts up his dirty laundry on days when he is feeling successful. Perhaps your wife lets you watch the whole game uninterrupted (except to bring a beer) when she feels emotionally close to you already.

So, when I was responding to this lady’s question, I asked her, “What is different about the times you are able to orgasm? Are you away on vacation? Are you incredibly aroused? Have you had a drink of wine? Are the kids with the grandparents? Does he make love to you in a certain manner? Where is your mind in these times? Where are you (in water, in a bed, on the floor, etc.)? What position are you in? Did you just have a fight? Did you just have a heart-to-heart conversation? Does he smell a certain way? How much foreplay was there before you reached orgasm?  How long did it take you to reach orgasm?”

Pay attention when things go well. They didn’t just magically end up that way - something produced that effect. When you know what that “something” is, you can make it happen again.  And as my husband likes to say, “to quote G.I. Joe, ‘knowing is half the battle.’”

Sex is Like Typing

Today I converted. Mac has been proselytizing long and hard and has finally won my heart. Perhaps I fell in love the trendy guy who plays Mac in the commercials on TV. Perhaps it is because so many of my friends have Macs. Perhaps it is that every time I sit in my husband’s office, I get jealous because he has a Mac and I do not.

For the last year or so, my husband and I have had an on going discussion about a new computer. It was not a question of “if” but “when”. My laptop was far too old. And while age in and of itself was not enough reason for me to go through the pain of moving my life from one computer to another, the fact that it took 7 minutes to boot up was grating severely on my nerves. (Yes, I timed it.) So, the question turned to the type of computer I would get. I was angling for a Mac, but my husband declared that I was not “Mac Worthy”. I felt like I was stuck in an old Seinfield episode. You know the one…”sponge worthy”.

It is true that I do not do the incredibly tech-y things that Mac is designed for. I am not designing websites; I am writing copy. I am not editing graphics; I am sketching my ideas by hand. All the people who design my sites and edit my graphics have Macs. Technically, I don’t NEED one.

But Macs are sexy. And fast. And you can shut the cover without turning off the entire computer.

Finally, my husband and I came to a compromise. We have a friend who has a lightly-used Mac laptop, and we would buy it off of him. I get the benefits of a Mac without the full weight of the price tag.

So today, I am typing on a new keyboard and getting used to its nuances. I choose the smaller computer intentionally so that I can take it with me on the road. (There is nothing worse than having an idea for a blog and writing it on a scrap of paper that inevitably gets lost.) The downside to a smaller computer is that the keyboard is slightly smaller as well. And I am finding that the “Y” key is sticking a bit. I have to hit it a bit harder to get it to work. But everything else is rainbows and unicorns - just like they promise it will be on the commercials!  All of this reminds me of an illustration I use when teaching clients about sexuality.

Sex is like typing.

If your goal is to be a phenomenal lover, it takes time, practice and feedback to learn how to hit the right keys at the right time to get the desired outcome. If you are not getting feedback, you won’t be a good typist. If you don’t practice, you won’t be a good typist. Our bodies are a lot like this keyboard.

But, let’s change up the illustration a bit. In real life, our “keyboard” actually changes over time. Sometimes, only a couple keys are out of place. If they are keys that we don’t use often such a “q” or “x”, it will probably take us a while to notice. But if the “a” or the “t” suddenly moved places, we will take heed immediately. If someone switched our normal keyboard for a Dvorak keyboard on us, we would probably come unglued.

In our sex lives, we need to realize that change is inevitable. What worked in your sex life when you got married might not work after you have had kids and will most likely not work after menopause. Throw in a chronic illness or job loss or depression and you are getting calls from a completely different playbook altogether.

You can approach these changes in a couple ways:

1. You realize that change is bound to happen and so you shore up your communication skills. That way, when change does come, you have a way to express your needs to your spouse and sort through the challenges together.
2. You can get all pissy and pout about the drain of kids, or getting older, or whatever else is bothering you - with all that free time you’re going to have when you stop having sex altogether.

You get to choose. Do you want to be reactive or proactive?

One last thought. Think of all the new things you will get to try as you take your new “keyboard” out for a whirl over the years. The very fact that change is inevitable forces us to get out of the rut we have fallen in, look at our spouse through new lenses, and learn about each other in a deeper way. This process, when done well, builds incredible intimacy.

Me? I am embracing change today. Good-bye, PC, I will not miss thee.  I’ll learn to live with a sticky Y key.  Worst-case scenario is that I type in “sexy” and only get “sex” on the page.  And getting sex when you weren’t expecting it ain’t all bad!!

Laughter, the Funny Kind with Paddy Ducklow

There are lots of reasons to laugh. First, laughter is fun - and fun is reason enough for all of us to laugh lots.

Secondly, because non-laughers are usually boring and uptight people. The kind of people we don’t want to laugh with anyways.

Thirdly, because laughter cleans out the psycho-social pipes when things are bad.

Now you need to know that there are two kinds of laughter: “laughter, the funny kind” (LFK) and “laughter, the mean kind” (LMK). LFK brings people closer and LMK breaks, butchers and belittles that which is important.

I am talking about LFKs or “laughter, the funny kind.”

Cleaning out the pipes: You saw it in “The Bucket List” when Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson laughed until they cried. Well, they needed to laugh. They were both dying and they were leaving those who wanted them to live. (Go rent the film. You will laugh and cry and get your pipes cleaned all at once.)

The laughing contagion: Do you remember in high school when you couldn’t stop laughing and when your teacher threatened you with “whatever” (you were laughing too hard to remember) and that she began snickering too? Laughter is contagious and that is a good thing. You avoided a detention or writing lines or visiting the principal. The laughter contagion brings people together when they are opposites.

“No laughing matter”: You have heard that truism; that the severity of the situation requires solemnity or reverence or some other form of sadness. However, authorities from the Bible to Reader’s Digest remind us that “laughter is the best medicine.” A best-selling Norman Cousins book and a popular Robin Williams film, “Patch Adams,” teaches us that laughter might even heal people. Still, even if you die, laughter is the best way to go. It’s called “dying well.” It’s a funny way to go.

Getting unstuck: Unsolvable problems are usually better solved through laughter than “serious, urgent, important” strategies (”SUI” sounds like a pig call doesn’t it?). If your life has 20% problems and you invest 80% of your resources in strategies like problem solving, worrying about things, and “daring to discipline,” well, you are likely to add to the unsolvability of it all. Makes you want to laugh. Or cry.

“So what’s this all got to do with sex?” you asked.

Good question. Of course if you have looked at yourself naked recently, laughing is way better than crying!

And if you think about orgasms, erections, the “missionary” position, all that wetness, well, it is pretty funny isn’t it?

And of course, all orgasms don’t call for the “Hallelujah Chorus!” (That’s a joke.)

“So, a guy walks into a bar…”

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Dr. Paddy Ducklow, Psychologist

www.TheDucklows.ca

Paddy is the Erb-Gullison Professor of Family Studies at Carey Theological College (UBC campus) and is in private practice doing marriage, family and sex therapy.

Happy Anniversary!

I just wanted to say a sincere thank you to all of you who have joined me on this adventure of writing, interacting and learning about sex, intimacy and relationships.  Hard to believe that it was a year ago today that we launched this website - after years of “non virtual work”.

If I had known a website was this much fun I would have started it years ago!

Please feel free to leave your favourite memory from the last 12 months or a note about the most impactful thing you learned.

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