What’s in a name? Identity vs. Marital Tradition

garden-rose-red-pink-56866Four days ago, I became engaged to The Boy. There were fireworks (literal fireworks, because it was New Years Eve, at midnight) and glasses of champagne leftover cider from Christmas because that was all we had in the house. It was a great time.

Then the wedding planning started, bringing with it a lot of questions and – who are we kidding here? – judgements from relatives.

The Boy and I aren’t your most traditional couple by nature. Oh sure, he wants a church wedding and I want a pretty white dress. I want my father to walk me down the aisle and he wants a stag night to remember (or forget, depending on how much he has to drink).

scroll3Where we differ from blind tradition is deciding which surname to take after we marry. Continue reading

Week 3 | Meet my family (if you dare)

Part of the 52 Week Blog Challenge

Presenting… *drumroll*… the Goodacres.

Meet the Parents

Mum and Dad are quite shy of the Internet, so I won’t put up any photo or embarrassing anecdotes about them. Suffice to say that I get my stubbornness and spark from my mum, my humour and my music taste from my dad, and I love them both a great deal.

And now for the rest of the loonies…

Meet the Siblings

paulaPaula is my older sister and often time the butt of the family’s jokes, because she has a remarkable habit of doing really stupid things without realising why they’re stupid. For instance, I have Syndactyly on my feet, meaning that my toes are joined together. For Christmas one year, she bought me toe-socks, and it wasn’t until I took off my slippers that very morning, she remembered I wouldn’t be able to wear them. She was twenty-seven at the time.

My sister is something of an introvert and surprisingly shy for someone so popular. She’s a great laugh, and always up for playing games and any fun that’s to be had. However, she likes nothing better than sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, a good book, or the next episode of The Walking Dead. She’s a Game of Thrones enthusiast and, as the apron I got her last Christmas declares, the World’s Most Average Cook. (She loves this apron and wears it all the time). She’s incredibly caring, if a bit ditzy, and is well on her way to becoming Mum 2.0 in later life. She also has terrible music taste, but you can’t have everything. Continue reading