Dan Q

Tag: parenting

My Polyamory is Boring

I was chatting to JTR about our shared experiences of being openly polyamorous1 bloggers. Both JTR and I observed that it’s something that we don’t write about often.

We don’t say much about it… even though it’s probably something that, to some readers, would seem interesting and unusual. And also, perhaps, still sufficiently “taboo” that they wouldn’t feel comfortable asking us about it outright, either.

Why is that?

In my case, the single biggest reason that I don’t often write about it is… I think my polyamory is kinda boring!

A family of two white men with beards and one white woman sit at a picnic bench in a barn, alongside their two (blurred) children. They're holding baps with sausages, bacon, or eggs in, and surrounded by canned drinks and takeaway coffee cups. A tote bag nearby gives away that they're at the cafe of Diddly Squat Farm.
From left to right the adults you can see are: (1) me, (2) my metamour2 JTA,3 and (3) my partner (and his wife) Ruth. On each side of her are our two school-aged children.

It’s boring… because it’s established

Part of the reason I think it’s boring is because, well, it’s far from novel! We’ve been doing this for the vast majority of our adult lives:

  • I’ve been in (only) nonmonogamous relationships for about 25 years.
  • The three of us – Ruth, JTA and I – have been together for 19 years
  • Of that, we’ve been cohabiting for 15 years, co-owning property for 13 years, co-parenting for almost as long

To me, this arrangement just feels like everyday life. We all know where we’re at and what we’re about, and we’re by now fuelled by long-established Old Relationship Energy4.

JTA, Ruth and Dan at Ruth and JTA's wedding.
We were already pretty well-established before Ruth & JTA’s fabulous wedding, all those years ago. Gosh, we’ve been doing this a while!

It’s boring… because it’s not scandalous

The second reason my polyamory is boring is because it’s free of drama; free of scandal; free of titillation.

We don’t go to swingers parties. We don’t have a dungeon in our basement5. We don’t revel in jealous chatter or gossip. We don’t spend most of our time naked. We’re not doing some kind of cuckoldry thing. We’re not doing this as part of some kink or fantasy.6

We don’t spend lots of time negotiating boundaries or handling jealousy or working out who needs an STI test: if you catch us discussing something, it’s much more-likely to be how we handle our savings account or who’s taking a kid to their swimming lesson or when’s least-inconvenient for everybody for the car to be serviced. Y’know: boring stuff!

We also only very-rarely “date” outside of our polycule7.

I’m confident that we attract a little gossip from the “school mums” or the nosy neighbours in our quiet rural village. But mostly, I suspect, it’s of the “hey, having a third parent around sounds super convenient: how can I get that?”8 type.

The same adults and children pose in a colourful escape room, with padlocked boxes and banks of light switches visible amongst cat toys.
We’re boring because we’re fundamentally just like any other family. Except with one more adult than is typical.

I love that my polyamory is boring!

Don’t get me wrong: I love that our relationships are unexpectedly-boring.

It’s a reflection of our stability and our commitment that the rest of my trio and I are a comfortably predictable. A perpetual landmark in the eyes of our families, friends, and children. We’re just part of the furniture. Just people, doing our thing, plodding along like everybody else.

Yes, Ruth gets to have a husband and a boyfriend. Yes, we’re all both “in a relationship” and “available to date”. Yes, our kids are raised by three parents (which I personally think is a huge advantage to them, and I imagine that they’d agree). But that’s where the excitement ends. We’re just regular-old common or garden humans.

So that’s the main reason I don’t blog about my polyamory. It’s just not that exciting. Sure: I could talk about how we organise our shared finances or who sleeps where on any given night or how we decided which adult does which part of the school run on which weekday… but it’s all pretty dull. And it’s frankly the kind of thing that any monogamous couple could talk about just as well!

Most successful long-term relationships are boring. Stability and consistency are not exciting.

But if I’m wrong…

…then tell me! There’s a comments form below9: ask whatever you like!10

And if nobody comments… then I’ll know that I’ve convinced you. I’ll know that I’m right. That my relationship structure, however uncommon, isn’t actually that interesting:

My polyamory is boring. And that’s great.

Footnotes

1 Polyamory: the practice of having multiple romantic or sexual partners with the knowledge and consent of everybody involved. I’ll try to keep a glossary going here in the footnotes for any less-commonplace terminology.

2 Metamour: the partner of your partner.

3 I apologise that my metamour JTA’s name is literally one-character different from that of JTR, a completely different person with whom I had the conversation that inspired this post. It annoys me to have to type it, so I’m sure it annoys you to have to read it.

4 Old Relationship Energy (ORE), or Established Relationship Energy, is the contented kind of relationship happiness that comes with time, and trust, and familiarity. It contrasts New Relationship Energy (NRE), which is the buzzy, loved-up kind of excitement common to new relationships and sometimes called the “honeymoon period”. These concepts are common to many relationship styles (and, indeed, the transition from NRE to ORE can be a source of challenges for some relationships), but they’re more-often talked-about in polyamorous circles because their impact is more widely-felt. For example: observing your partner experience NRE with somebody new and remembering when you and they shared the same can be a source of friction or jealousy… or a source of compersion (vicarious joy at somebody else’s love), depending on the people, timing, context, and more.

5 If we did have a basement sex dungeon (which we don’t), it’d have long ago become a swimming pool when our house flooded earlier this year. Sigh.

6 No shade thrown if you are a drama-queen nudist swinger with a sex dungeon and a cuckoldry kink. More power to you. All I’m saying is that’s not us, and therefore – by comparison – we’re pretty boring.

7 Polycule: a network of romantic relationships, or the people within those relationships, that are all connected to one another. The simplest polycule is arguably the dyad: two people in a relationship together. There are probably two possible configurations of three people: a triad, where each party is romantically involved with each of the other two, and a vee – a “V-shaped” polycule where one person is in a relationship with two others, who are not in a relationship with one another. Letters of the alphabet are useful to summarise other polycule shapes too, like an N-shaped or O-shaped quad or a W-shaped or A-shaped quintet, but of course there are many other ways you can permute the people and relationships when you’ve got this number of participants. Some polycules are huge (and, usually, loose, with the most-peripheral people possibly less-likely to be in direct contact with one another); others are relatively small. There’s a philosophical argument that can be made either way about whether a single person is a polycule-of-one.

8 I’ve got to admit, triple-parenting is convenient, sometimes. I have an enormous deal of respect for solo parents because that shit is hard. Two parents is simpler, but three… three sometimes feels like playing on easy-mode. Not always – kids will quickly learn which parent is the one to appeal to if they want an extra half-hour before bedtime or you to buy them a new book, for example, and having more parents gives them more ways to do that! – but sometimes.

9 Don’t want me to know that it was you? You can ask anonymously, if you like. But you do need to type in something that looks like a believable email address to ensure you get past the spam filter. Here’s some throwaway anonymous email addresses if you want one.

10 So long as you’re not a bigot or an arsehole, you can ask whatever you like and I’ll try to answer. Tell me that I’m living in sin or that what I’m doing is bad for my children or that we’re cheating on one another and you’ll find that you don’t make it through the moderation filter.

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Twenty Inches

I let the elder kid choose her lunch. She chose a pizza so huge that each slice is larger than her entire face. Needless to say, she needed a little help with it!

Two preteen children sit in front of an enormous pepperoni pizza.

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A Selfhosted Static Site Editor

My 12-year-old was interested in learning some HTML and CSS and making her own website. If she were anybody else I’d point her at something like Nekoweb as a starter host because their web-based (VSCode-based) “Nekode” text editor makes writing your first static site simple.

But I’ve got a NAS sitting at home on a fibre connection, so I figured: I might as well just host something similar here.

Here’s how I did it:

1. DNS

I pointed her domain at my static IP, plus a subdomain for the “backend” interface. Suppose her site would be at example.net (and www.example.net) with the admin interface at admin.example.net: my DNS configuration might look like this: 

@     10800 IN     A 172.66.147.243
www   10800 IN CNAME example.net.
admin 10800 IN CNAME example.net.

2. Caddy

I’ve got a Caddy webserver acting as a static server and a reverse proxy already, so I just added a new static site with a configuration like this: 

example.net, www.example.net {
  root /volumes/example.net/public
  encode gzip
  templates
  file_server
}
The templates directive means that, if/when she wants to, she could use Caddy’s built-in SSI-like features. Or if she decides someday she’d prefer a static site generator then I can sort her out with shell access or something.

It probably wouldn’t be much harder to set up something like this from scratch on e.g. a Raspberry Pi: Caddy’s fast and easy to get set up.

3. Editor

I used the OpenVSCode Server Docker image to provide a browser-based VSCode interface in which she could edit HTML, CSS and JavaScript and drag-drop files from her local machine. I’m using Unraid on my NAS so I didn’t have to think much about running a new Docker container, but I guess that if I did then I’d have typed something like: 

docker run -d \
  # 7890 is the port on my NAS that I'll proxy Caddy to:
  -p 7890:3000
  # /mnt/user/example.net is the path on my NAS;
  # /example.net is where it'll appear within VSCode:
  -v "/mnt/user/example.net:/example.net" \
  # this tells OpenVSCode-Server to mount the directory to begin with:
  -e OPENVSCODE_SERVER_ROOT=/example.net \
  gitpod/openvscode-server

Now all I needed to do was point Caddy at it. For the time being I simply restricted access to only “computers on my local LAN”, but it’d be easy enough to add authentication using basic auth and/or client certificates if she wanted to be able to work on her site from elsewhere: 

admin.example.net {
  # Restrict access to 192.168.* LAN:
  @allowed {
    remote_ip 192.168.0.0/16
  }
  # Proxy permitted folks to the container:
  handle @allowed {
    reverse_proxy http://nas:7890
  }
  # Block everybody else:
  handle {
    abort
  }
}

That’s literally all it took to put together a web-based editing environment that publishes directly to a static website. And because it’s on my own infrastructure, it’d be trivially easy to modify it in the future if she decided to go in a different direction, e.g. a PHP site, or continuous deployment from a repo, or static site generation from a shell.

That’s all!

Here’s a test site I threw together using exactly this stack, demonstrating the entirely browser-based editing workflow (not shown is drag-and-drop to upload, but I promise that works too!):

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F-Day plus 12

It’s now twelve days since a flood struck my house, causing the ground floor to be submerged under a couple of feet of water and ultimately leading us to kick off an insurance claim process.

A home office with its floor stripped down to poured concrete and an industrial dehumidifier running.
My regular home office of the last six years sits stripped-down, with no flooring, skirting boards, or power (with the exception of the specialised circuit powering an industrial dehumidifier).

And man, a home insurance claim seems to be… slow. For instance, we originally couldn’t even get anybody out to visit us until F-day plus 10 (later improved to F-day plus 7). The insurance company can’t promise that they’ll confirm that they’ll “accept liability” (agree to start paying for anything) until possibly as late as F-day plus 17. Nobody will check for structural damage until F-day plus 191.

Oh, and the insurance company have advised us to look for something like a “12 month let with a 6 month break clause”, which is horrifying. We could be out of our home for up to a year.

Dan, a white man, stands with his arms raised outside a nicely-decorated converted barn.
Right now, though, we’re spending two weeks in this holiday let about half an hour’s drive from our house. It’s pretty nice, except that we have to commute over the ever-congested single-lane Burford Bridge to get the kids to and from school every day2.

Some days it feels like being stuck in a nowhere-place… but simultaneously still having to make the regular everyday stuff keep ticking over. Visiting the house- currently stripped of anything damp and full of drying equipment – feels like stepping onto another planet… or like one of those dreams where you’re somewhere familiar except it’s wrong somehow.

But spending time away from it, “as if” on holiday except-not, is weird too: like we’re accepting the ambiguity; leaning-in to limbo. Especially while we’re waiting for the insurance company to do their initial things, it feels like life is both on hold, and not-allowed to be on hold.

A nervous-looking French Bulldog in a teal jumper looks up from under a desk.
The dog gets it. I had to take her to the house for a while on Monday3 and she spent the whole time leaning against my feet for reassurance.

And I worry that by the time they’re committed to paying for us to stay somewhere else for at least half a year, they lose any incentive they might have to contract for speed. There’s no hurry any more. We’re expected to just press pause on our home, but carry on with our lives regardless, pretending that everything’s normal.

So yeah, it’s a weird time.

Footnotes

1 I’m totally committed to this way of counting the progress, which I started on F-day plus 3. I get the feeling like it might be a worthwhile way of keeping track of how long all of this takes.

2 Normally, the younger and older child are able to get to school on foot or via a bus that stops virtually outside our house, each day, so an hour-plus round-trip to their schools and back up to twice a day is a bit of a drag! We’re managing to make it work with a little creativity, but I wouldn’t want to make it a long-term plan!

3 And do some work from there, amidst the jet engine-like noise of the dehumidifiers!

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“I’m glad I’m not the only one”

Still at MegaConLive. I’ve not done this kind of con before (and still wouldn’t, were it not for my tweenager and her various obsessions). Not my jam, and that’s fine.

But if there’s one thing for which I can sing it’s praises: everybody we’ve met is super friendly and nice. Sure, you can loudly telegraph your fandoms and identities via cosplay, accessories, masks, badges, bracelets or whatever… but it’s also just a friendly community of folks to just talk to.

The fashion choices are, more than anything, just an excuse to engage: a way to say “hey, here’s a conversation starter if you’d like to talk to me!”

Overheard a conversation between my kid and another of a similar age, and there was a heartwarming moment where the other kid said, “oh wow, I thought I was the only one!” Adorbs.

Convention stage with MegaConLive branding.

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MegaConLive London

My 12-year-old’s persuaded me to take her to MegaConLive London this weekend.

As somebody who doesn’t pay much attention to the pop culture circles represented by such an event (and hasn’t for 15+ years, or whenever it was that Asdfbook came out?)… have you got any advice for me, Internet?

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67 Bananas

I think my “six seven”-obsessed younger child was in the kitchen with a biro earlier. How do I know, you ask?

Close up of a bunch of bananas. The numbers 6 and 7 have been drawn on them in ball point pen.

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Note #27906

The younger kids’ taekwondo school put on a free ‘new years workout’ class this morning. It was pretty awesome.

My watch says my heart rate averaged 146bpm, peaking at 169bpm. It’s possible I’m not as fit as I used to be. 😅

But at least I don’t feel like I might die, like I did during the ‘dads go free’ promotion last year. Progress?

In a gym environment with punchbags visible in the background Dan, a white man wearing a black t-shirt, throws a right jab, alongside others who are doing the same.

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Bee

As part of my efforts to reclaim the living room from the children, I’m building a new gaming PC for the playroom. She’s called Bee, and – thanks to the absolute insanity that is The Tower 300 case from Thermaltake – she’s one of the most bonkers PC cases I’ve ever worked in.

On a desk cluttered with computer parts, a partially-built PC stands in an irregular-hexagonal prism shaped case with vented yellow sides and a three-pane angled glass front.

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Note #27806

I asked the younger child to “help” me calculate how much Yorkshire pudding batter to make for this Christmas dinner.

Dan, a white man with a beard and blue hair, wearing a WordPress-themed Christmas jumper, beats a bowl of batter.

“Well,” he began, “I’m going to want FIVE Yorkshire puddings, soo…”

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Duck shunning

I’m not sure which of our children was last in this bath, but the configuration in which they’ve left their toys makes me feel as though I’m the subject of some kind of waterfowl-related shunning.

Perhaps they finally got wind or my heretical opinions on the God of Ducks (may he throw us bread) and they’ve collectively decided to disassociate from me?

Four thematic rubber ducks sit along the edge of a fitted white bathtub, seemingly deliberate in their placement which sees them facing directly away from the bather and towards various shampoo bottles and a candle in a glass.

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Happy Polyamory Day 2025

Happy Polyamory Day y’all. (Plus max props to Petra without whom I’d have forgotten about it, like most years.)

Closest thing I did to celebrating it was going out to the pub last night for beer and food with my metamour, while our partner-in-common took our kids to see a film. Polyfam life isn’t always glamorous; but it is full of love.

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