12 hours Ago By Maureen Scurfield
DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: My upstairs neighbours think they can mask their raucous sex with loud music — wrong. Beethoven’s fifth symphony isn’t masking anything, nor is the pounding rock music that starts up right after it. My wife and I know it’s a playlist because all the songs come in a predictable order.
Read this article for free: Already have an account? To continue reading, please subscribe: * DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: My upstairs neighbours think they can mask their raucous sex with loud music — wrong. Beethoven’s fifth symphony isn’t masking anything, nor is the pounding rock music that starts up right after it. My wife and I know it’s a playlist because all the songs come in a predictable order.
Read unlimited articles for free today: Already have an account? Opinion DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: My upstairs neighbours think they can mask their raucous sex with loud music — wrong. Beethoven’s fifth symphony isn’t masking anything, nor is the pounding rock music that starts up right after it. My wife and I know it’s a playlist because all the songs come in a predictable order.
If it weren’t so annoying, it would be funny, and we could scream and holler along with it. What should we do now? — Captive Audience, Osborne Village Write this couple a humorous note about synchronizing your musical sex sessions with them. Suggest the most convenient time, giving them a 60-minute window.
Tell them if they prefer to have shorter sex sessions “totally in sync,” you’ll only be available at 4:30 a.m. — a ridiculous hour — so there’s little danger they’ll take you up on it.
If you see them in the parking lot, there’s no need to talk. Just wink. You can come out on top in this little game.
Dear Miss Lonelyhearts: My wife is dying to get pregnant, and she wants twins because she’s a twin herself. I just want one baby at a time — that’s more than enough. I keep reminding her two is a lot to breastfeed, cuddle, change diapers — the works.
She points to me and then to herself, and says slowly, like she’s addressing a nitwit, “There are two healthy adults to do the work here.” I wish she would relax and enjoy our recent marriage with no family-launching thoughts for now, but she’s 33 and absolutely possessed with the idea of having twins. It’s gotten to the point where her brain has started spotting two of everything: two robins in a tree, two red cars that look exactly the same, etc.
Oh, come on. I yelled at her yesterday, the psychologist in me coming out. “That’s just your brain’s reticular activator scanning for matching things.
It’s nothing more.” She started to cry. It was the first time I ever yelled at her and she was upset.
Suddenly I felt awful. I never intended to yell at my wife like my dad did with his wives. Am I totally losing my cool this early in my own marriage and towards my sweet woman who never raises her voice? Help me.
— Feeling Ashamed, Selkirk You may have an insecure spot inside you, a feeling like you’re also starting to lose control. It started showing when you panicked at your wife’s brain pointing out twin everything. For a split second, you may have started accepting the idea that twins are possible, and they’re everywhere.
Gamblers waste a lot of time trying to invoke help from the universe. Your wife was doing that in her own way by trying to normalize the magical idea that “twin everything” is happening all around her — so why not in an upcoming childbirth experience? If she does conceive, there will be a time in the first few months when it becomes clear how many kids are on the way. My suggestion to both of you to aid in being able to start feeling calm and in control is to repeat this mantra to each other, starting now: “We’ll be happy if there’s one healthy baby or more — and we’ll cope just fine.
” That will also help you build a greater feeling of unity, strength and control as a couple. Please send your questions and comments to [email protected] or Miss Lonelyhearts c/o the Winnipeg Free Press, 1355 Mountain Ave.
, Winnipeg, MB, R2X 3B6. Maureen Scurfield writes the Miss Lonelyhearts advice column. Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism.
If you are not a paid reader, please consider . Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.
Maureen Scurfield writes the Miss Lonelyhearts advice column. Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider .
Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support. Advertisement.
