The Yummy Mummy’s Family Handbook. Liz Fraser

The Yummy Mummy’s Family Handbook

out of us every so often as they threaten to expose themselves.

Most skeletons in relationships between married people represent past loves. Men we once kissed, relationships we had but have never talked about (because he’s your husband’s best mate, for example) or sexual experiences we’d rather not share. Others involve all sorts of dishonesties from those little white lies we all tell (‘The shoes were seventy-five per cent off—what a bargain!’ What a liar more like…) to the occasional whoppers (‘I’ll have to stay at the office really late tonight to prepare for a meeting tomorrow…’ Hmmm. Funny sort of office, that, where they serve half-price cocktails and where all your friends happen to ‘work’ too.)

Whatever your particular bony friends represent, you have two choices. Option one is to reveal their true identity and own up to the Christmas party kiss, the fact that the new chandelier in the hall wasn’t really a birthday present from your mum and you forked out nearly a grand for it, or that you were once caught shoplifting in Selfridges because you were temporarily out of your mind with PMT and a caffeine rush and just had to have those egg cups. Option two is to leave them where they are, as a sentimental reminder of your former life, because you like having secrets or because you want to avoid the biggest row you have ever had, which may result in permanent scarring.

Here’s some advice to help you decide:

Is the rattling disturbing you? If the presence of a particularly large skeleton makes you anxious, guilty or both, then you should speak up. This kind of stressed state of mind can only breed more unrest, and it’s much better to rid yourself of all the worry and angst, and be done with it. If he can’t handle the fact that it’s in your past, and therefore isn’t a threat, then this is a sign of more serious mistrust and insecurity on his part, which needs addressing.

Ask a friend first. Everybody should have a friend whom they can ask very difficult or embarrassing questions. She, or he, might not be able to advise you much, but at least you can see how someone else reacts to your news. If they stare at you openmouthed and then don’t call for two months, it’s best to close the cupboard door and keep your mouth shut. If they laugh or don’t seem very fazed at all (or own up to something much worse), you are probably good to go for it and confess.

Do you like secrets? Some people actively enjoy having secrets from their partners. It makes them feel they still have a life outside coupledom and it adds a small amount of exciting risk. For these types, sharing a home with a few naughty skeletons isn’t a big deal at all, and they can enjoy their new life without the risk of upsetting their partner when they spill the beans about the time they kissed Lucinda in the locker room when they were fifteen. Shame, because he’d probably enjoy that one…

Little White Lies

Rachel, mother of Isabella, eight, Sara, five, and Daisy, three:

I don’t tell my husband about naughty purchases. I’ll lie and say I got it in the sale, or that somebody gave it to me. It’s silly, because we share money, but because I don’t work I feel guilty—but I need my little treats!

When is a lie not really a lie, but a slight rearrangement of the facts, an embellishment of the truth or a carefully edited version of events? What if telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth would cause more hurt and upset than telling a little, tiny fib?

Well, as with all relationships, whether with a friend, a daughter, a mother or a husband, there are times when not quite telling it exactly as it happened seems like an attractive option. I have often fibbed to my kids that the swimming pool is closed for lessons or that the telly is broken when what I really meant was: ‘I don’t want to take you swimming because I waxed my bikini line yesterday and it’s gone a bit red’, or ‘The telly is all mine tonight because I want to watch Gosford Park again to stop me thinking about the three litres of water I’m retaining in my thighs!’ I don’t worry about this kind of little white lie (LWL). Telling the truth would require hours of explaining myself and apologising, and my life is so crammed with doing things for them that I just have to say NO! and put my own interests first every so often to avoid going insane. Anyway, it’s not in the same league as telling them, oh, I don’t know, that I won an Olympic gold medal at swimming or I invented television, is it? It’s just a convenient, harmless, occasionally convenient untruth.

With husbands, LWLs are more serious, and should be used with caution. The very nature of your relationship means that you should be able to say everything—everything—to each other with-out any fear that you will be sent to the doghouse for a week, or that he will bear a grudge.

This is all to do with trust. If you don’t trust one another 500 per cent and know you will be forgiven the occasional misguided handbag-buying session or catastrophic poker night, then you really are going to have a lot of work on your hands to keep this relationship going for very long.

LWLs erode this trust. Perhaps only a very little bit, but it’s the tiny cracks that always lead to serious splits. Keep things open and honest, and you should have a much stronger partnership to work with.

Confront it. If you feel uncertain about something he’s told you, or feel uneasy or suspicious about something, for goodness’ sake don’t keep it to yourself. I have had a few paranoid moments like this, when I’ve found mobile phone numbers in his trouser pocket as I empty them before a wash, or if he says he’ll be home by 11.30 and is still out at 4 a.m. when I get up to go to the loo. In the wee hours (is that why they’re called that?) everything can seem a bit bleak and I convince myself that he’s in the arms of a childless, nymphomaniac sex-kitten. When I ask, there is always an embarrassingly logical, provable explanation, and I have to eat humble pie for a day. But I’m always glad I asked, and he’s always happy that I did—and to tell me I’m a silly girl who should know better.

Beware of habit-forming. One problem with telling the odd porky is that it can become a habit, and before you know it you have become completely used to bullshitting your way out of many a tight spot, and you lose sight of what’s true and what isn’t. This is a very slippery slope towards almost certain disaster in the marriage department. Keep a check on yourself, and if you think you are falling into bad habits then get a grip and try to mend your ways.

Anita, mother of Shania, nine, and Dan, fire:

Even though I have a job, and should feel absolutely fine about spending my money how I like, I still keep the odd unnecessary purchase a secret from my partner. I think it’s so I can have a moan when he spends money on motorbike magazines when I’d rather keep it for a night out! It’s a bit cheeky I know, but it’s harmless I think.

I see a pattern emerging here…Spending money on little treats for themselves or the home is the main reason the mothers I asked told lies to their partners. If that’s as bad as it gets, then I think they can all sleep soundly, but it does say a lot about their relationships: they feel guilty for spending money frivolously, or on themselves. There’s a whole PhD in there! Happily, not everyone feels they are so answerable to their other halves and can enjoy some guilt-free treats:

Amy, mother of Jess, six, and Will, fire:

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The Yummy Mummy’s Family Handbook. Liz Fraser