"A Photograph is Memory in the Raw": How a Domestic Goddess Handles Her Adonis

The pilot light in the boiler went off.

The heating switched off, hot water was out of the question and a general panic ensued for a couple of hours (but mainly just between Elisa and I as noone else had noticed). After resetting the boiler umpteen times, we managed to spark some life in the ol' gal and she was back in action providing heat and comfort once again. This is just the latest episode in the ongoing "Stuff that keeps breaking in this house saga", a few days ago I fixed the hinges in my wardrobe with a pair of tweezers, weeks before that I'd scrubbed mould off the ceiling, and before that I got the joy of reattaching the toilet seat to the toilet (no tweezers there, just bare hands. Mmmm mmm.) Not even mentioning dealing with extracting a small-medium build dog's toupee from the bristles of the hoover. If I have learned one thing from this year living out of halls its that I am perfectly capable of dealing with minor domestic crises- my mother would be so proud.

Anyway this entire nightmare of a house reminded me of when my Dad foolishly left me and Mum at home while he was away on holiday, and in the course of ONE night, my mother had removed all the carpeting from the living room and hallway, set down a layer of that green insulating board, fitted new laminate flooring and varnished it. Single handedly. In one night. As in, I went to bed, entered a coma, and woke up to new flooring. I was amazed and Mum was beyond pleased with herself, smug for the rest of Dad's absence. But when he came back, he declared his hate of wooden floorings. He's a traditional soul who believes firmly that a good quality carpet is the staple of a good family home. That sort. Mum was not so pleased with this reaction.

My mum is the true definition of "Domestic Goddess", she cooks, she cleans, she plays accountant/therapist/cheer squad/ babysitter and mother day after day without much complaint (she enjoys relishing a little sympathy and gratitude from time to time, it gets her a free manicure and lemon drizzle cake if she plays it just right). Whilst keeping the household running, and making sure the family is firmly knitted together, don't go thinking my Mother is a doormat of the family or re-enacting that furiously annoying image of "Suzy homemaker", she very DEFINITELY undertakes the "-Goddess" part of the phrase. When Dad showed his ingratitude of what she considered to be an awesome renovation (it so was Dad, you fool) Mum (a.k.a Betty for those who don't know, dig that awesome name) didn't wilt and or look downtrodden, heck no. She ripped him a new one, and then educated him on why he was wrong and would be sleeping on the couch that night (easier to clean, more insulating than carpet, more fashionable etc). Afterall, what Goddess would opt to shrivel in the face of criticism and submit to a mere mortal's will rather than do a little smiting? Geez, come on.

My Mother, the awesome force. The woman who can take on a million chores in a day, lift you up when you're down in the dumps but put you back in your place when you get all knobbish, is my idol. If I had to single out one parenting technique that she pulled off well, it's how to keep people grounded. I will never be able to say how much I appreciate her keeping me in check when I'm away with the fairies, and the way she's taught me to reflect on myself when I notice the warning signs that something is on the brink of going wrong. I think that's invaluable, seeing as it's hard to really be critical of yourself without being too harsh, but also not just covering up everything with "that's not actually a problem though" and ignoring things at jeopardy. The balance between what we want to believe and what we have to realise. The battle between the Fellowship and Sauron. Good VS Evil. Aaaah reality checks. So Mum takes a "No B-S" approach to nearly everything, unless she's conning the Sky call center to give us a few free channels, and orchestrates it with such a flair that there really is no getting past her. It overlaps with this psychic ability of knowing when someone needs to hear a little cushioning "no, you're not being unreasonable" and the ever-honest "he was an ugly mug anyway, I never liked him, you just can't trust someone with {insert physical characteristic here}".

In the spirit of godesslyness, what do you do when your Adonis turns out to be nothing but a Narcissus (read: Jackass)?

Momma told me the following.

1. If you're right, educate the fool. There's no point in having a fight and making up unless you TEACH him why he's wrong, so then he has no excuse to do x/y/z again in ignorance. If he does it again despite knowing better, rip him a new one, you are not to be pushed over.

2. If he's right, be a dignified loser. This happened recently. I was crabby because I'd had a shitty day. Lover was crabby because he'd had a shitty day. Result was that we were sniping at each other and winding each other up= both in the wrong. We decided to quit while we were ahead, hung up, had the night to ourselves (I steamed a little bit, passive agressively made penguin costumes) and went to bed. The next day we started with an apology and a do-over, and it was fine. There's no point in throwing yourself at someone's feet the moment you've had a fight. Yes its nice to clear the air straight away, but you need time to reflect on a) how serious is this? b) how relevant is this? Is there anything more to it? c) you need to FEEL an emotion. Take time to feel angry/pissed off/indignant/hormonal, but at least let yourself come face to face with it. Sublimating the negative doesn't make it go away, it'll only fester in some other part of your life, or come back to bite you in the ass at some later date. "Sooner rather than later " lovers.

3. If he's being unduly demanding, make him do it himself. There's a fine yet dramatic difference between being a "Domestic Goddess" and just a slave. And saying "you're doing it because you want to do it" is a cheap line. You shouldn't do anything to validate your own existence on somebody else's terms. If I'm making you burritos, re-fried beans and nachos, I'm doing it because it satisfies my craving for the aforementioned/its a special occasion and you deserve a treat/ I have a killer new recipe. It's not me over-stretching myself just to hear a "Cheers love". Note: I don't feed my man crap just because I can't be bothered to cook, I'll always feed him well, but not because it "makes me a better woman". I'm also not a die-hard feminist.

4. If you're being unduly demanding, quit it. Review: are you standing up on account of your principles or being a bit high-maintenance. Is it reasonable to expect someone to call you more than twice a day? (I say twice, because Beau never picks up on the first call when his phone is on silent. The first set of vibrations are fobbed off as an itch/muscle spasm, the second set is the "oh shit, that was my phone" realisation). I knew someone who called their loverman upwards of 4 times a day, and when he went on holiday, I was called, to call my boyfriend, to call her boyfriend, to call her. He was still in Europe. It was the second day of a 4 day holiday. It was nuts. Turns out she just wanted to have a little chat, see how he was- he was the same he'd been that morning. Nuts.

They aren't techniques lacking compassion, there's equal chance for both sides to be right/wrong as long as you don't drag in lots of tiny "but, I....I thought he...but what if?"s that are utterly unhelpful. And usually all in your head. I pity Alex for the first year at uni I put him through, yeesh, all the fuzzcrap was exhausting- it's a wonder I didn't get the axe after that. Luckily, Mum gave me the whole "You really want a relationship like this for the rest of your life? Do you see you guys making it to the alter bickering like this? Do you see yourself at the alter with anyone like this? You want him? You want anyone?" talk and straightened me out. We now operate on a no B-S policy. I don't get away with things/ get to kick up a fuss because I'm a girly girl, but he also doesn't get to be spoiled by me just because he's my man. I cook burritos, he makes cajun pasta. He goes off and does his own thing, I go off and do my own thing. We get back to each other and he brings flowers, I bring out the nice knickers.

"Alex, that tone of voice is patronising and winds me up, stop now before I hang up."

"Sorry. Lilly, I would love to spend time with you, but if you're not talking and have only called me for the sake of having me around, I'd rather go to bed."

"Sorry. Night!"