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"As the mother of a six and four year old, I often reflect on how I was raised. And let me tell you, I&amp;#039;ve got baggage. A lot of it. Sometimes my arms are so heavy from lugging around those memories it&amp;#039;s amazing I don&amp;#039;t pass out and die from the weight. All those kisses. All that unconditional love. All those summers spent swimming in the pool, being wrapped up in warm towels, and watching Star Wars or Smokey and the Bandit on &amp;quot;modern&amp;quot; projection screens with video tapes the size of pizza boxes that could smush an unsuspecting chihuahua. My folks were those crazy bastards who could never say no to a neighbor kid. They always had a full fridge of food. They emphasized kindness over material possessions. And, never to be underestimated, they were forever making plans for their next get together. Yep, with goodwill at their souls&amp;#039; foundation, my parents were pure evil. After all, how could I possibly fill those shoes for my own children? The same goes for my marriage. I grew up watching romantic comedies. I had visions in my head of glamorous vacations and a shiny home. Sure, I wanted to be grounded with someone solid, but deep inside, I wanted that extra rush of bling. Working in Hollywood certainly didn&amp;#039;t help dissuade me. Budgets, ailing parents and camping didn&amp;#039;t affect successful writers. One might say that I&amp;#039;m disappointed in the reality of my life. And for a brief time, I was. Where were my residual checks? Why were we not renting that Balboa beach house every summer? However, unlike when I was a kid and could simply wake up Christmas morning, all the presents wrapped neatly under the fir, it&amp;#039;s time for me to be the adult. I get to make the magic. Sure, it&amp;#039;s Rex&amp;#039;s job to do some of that. (Just this past Sunday he brought me coffee in bed. Heaven.) But as a mom and wife, presents don&amp;#039;t just appear. Sometimes I have to order them. Take last weekend. I was emotionally spent from a long week of Rex on business combined with hospital visits. I needed some TLC. Friends weren&amp;#039;t going to cut it. I needed it from my husband. I arranged for Sis to babysit. I then nicely, but firmly, informed Rex, &amp;quot;Don&amp;#039;t disappoint me. I need you to take me out for these three hours. And we&amp;#039;re going to focus all on me.&amp;quot; And guess what? He did. Was it as romantic as a leading man from scriptwriting days who&amp;#039;d whisk me off to Paris for the weekend? Clearly not. But a strip mall with someone who has my back when I ask for a scratch works perfectly. (But Paris ain&amp;#039;t out of the question... give me a few years!) How about you? Do you ask for what you want in your marriage? If not, why not? More on this topic Wednesday. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a2810/adult-rated-romance/>