A lull in the weekly parade of teachers across the U.S. being busted for sexual relationships with their students ended this week with a Minnesota teacher being hit with a jail sentence for meetups with a student and another educator in Kentucky banned from ever teaching again after pleading guilty to sexting with a pupil.
The Villa Vie Odyssey's residents said they were given eight hours to disembark in Cambodia.
TANG CHHIN Sothy / AFP via Getty Images
The founder behind the "never-ending" cruise told Business Insider that problems piled up this year.
The Iran war sent fuel prices soaring. Then Villa Vie spooked passengers by asking them for loans.
Now founder Mikael Petterson says he is considering bankruptcy.
A financial whirlpool sucked the "never-ending" cruise under.
The founder behind the Villa Vie Odyssey told Business Insider that the Iran war fuel-price surge was the beginning of a "cascading effect" that led the cruise to shut down this week. Mikael Petterson, Villa Vie Residences' founder and executive chairman, said he's considering bankruptcy.
Villa Vie sold permanent cabins at prices ranging from $119,999 to $439,999, promising residents an endless cruise with stops at more than 400 ports of call and a global circumnavigation every three-and-a-half years.
Here are five business problems that brought the trip to an abrupt end.
1. Fuel prices soared.
In February, the United States and Israel launched a war in Iran. Fuel prices surged. The Odyssey uses marine gas oil, or MGO.
Villa Vie had typically paid around $600 or $700 per metric ton for the Odyssey's fuel, Petterson said. By March, the price of MGO in Singapore had soared to nearly $2,000 per metric ton, according to data from Ship & Bunker, a trade publication.
2. The company was too small to hedge.
Some publicly traded companies, like Norwegian Cruise Line Holdings, have told shareholders this year that they have taken measures to blunt the impact of fuel-price volatility. Unlike larger cruise lines, Villa Vie didn't have the scale to absorb the higher prices, Petterson said.
"They're able to hedge and take away some of that risk, but we're too small of a company to do that," he said.
The ship changed its itinerary to spend more time docked at ports and conserve fuel, but it wasn't enough, Petterson said.
3. Villa Vie spooked its own passengers.
In April, Villa Vie wanted residents to help shore up its finances. The company asked them to loan Villa Vie money, offering them interest rates of 12% to 24%, according to a letter viewed by Business Insider.
Some residents got "scared," Petterson said. They sold their cabins to other people who wanted to live aboard. That made things more difficult for Villa Vie's sales team, which was still trying to find buyers for the remaining vacancies on the ship, Petterson said.
4. The company's reputation was damaged.
Some of the Odyssey's residents were content creators. In Substack posts and YouTube videos, they posted about their experiences, some positive and some negative, for the roughly two years that it sailed the world.
Some travel bloggers and social media posters blamed Villa Vie's management for the operation's financial troubles. The negative publicity made it harder to bring more people aboard, Petterson said.
5. The company struggled with cash flow.
The ship's original launch in 2024 was delayed for four months while mechanical problems — including issues with the aging ship's rudder — kept the ship stuck in dry dock. Preparing the ship for launch cost $15 million more than what Villa Vie had expected, Petterson said.
He said the operation was on track to get to break-even cash flow by the second quarter of this year — but the Iran war blew up that plan.
Two California lawmakers are demanding that the Trump administration abandon reported plans to use ships for mass deportations, including the former Cal Poly Maritime Academy training vessel Golden Bear. Reps....
Ferries and ships will be docked at seven ports across Greece for 24 hours on Friday, October 30, 2026, as seafarers in the country will join an international strike action by seafarers in several countries around the world. Ships are set to remain docked at the ports of Piraeus, Rafina, Lavrio, Patras, Igoumenitsa, Elefsina, and […]
Amid a growing trend of parent-child estrangement, experts say recognizing the early warning signs may help families address problems before they escalate into a no-contact situation.
Nearly four in 10 Americans are currently estranged from at least one close family member, according to a 2025 YouGov poll of 4,395 U.S. adults. That includes 24% who reported estrangement from a sibling, 16% from a parent and 10% from a child.
While estrangement can sometimes seem sudden, experts say subtle changes may signal that a family relationship is beginning to unravel.
Mary McLaughlin, a licensed couples and family therapist in Vienna, Virginia, said early signs may include an adult child becoming less willing to share details of their life directly with a parent.
"You might find out about the trip, the new relationship or a promotion at work at the same time everyone else does," she told Fox News Digital.
The parent may still be in contact with the adult child, McLaughlin said, but the child no longer chooses to share parts of their life directly.
Other potential warning signs may include skipping family holidays, birthdays or weddings; leaving texts and calls unanswered; and reducing communication to brief or sporadic exchanges, according to the expert.
The distance may become so noticeable that siblings, grandparents or other relatives comment that they have not seen or heard from the adult child in a long time.
A child who once readily joined family photos but begins stepping out of them may also be signaling that they are starting to see themselves as separate from the family, McLaughlin said.
Blythe Landry, a Pennsylvania-based therapist and founder of Blythe Landry Coaching, said other early signs may include a child becoming involved with a new social group that encourages estrangement over difficult conversations, or "beginning to rewrite history in a way that seems more damaging than what might have happened."
The adult child may also become less willing to let a parent spend time with their grandchildren.
The most telling sign may be a noticeable shift in the tone of the relationship, Landry said.
"You know your child, and you know when the energy has shifted in a direction that seems dramatically harsher than in previous interactions."
The shift to independence
Laura Wellington, a Connecticut mother who has been estranged from her adult daughter since 2024, said it can be challenging to distinguish early signs of estrangement from typical moves toward independence.
"It’s confusing to the parent because, a lot of times, they look like the general signs of a teenager moving into the young-adult zone — just pulling away and going off and establishing their lives," she told Fox News Digital.
"That’s what I think confuses many parents, because they want to give them the space to start pulling away and showing signs of their own individuality and carving their path."
"They don’t want to fight every battle, because if they fight every battle, then communication breaks down. So they try to pick and choose."
Loss of respect
One warning sign, according to Wellington, is if the child has an "I know everything, you know nothing" mindset.
"What's happening in our society today is … a lot of ‘I know everything, you know nothing’ toward the parent," she said. "There's no respect for what the parents experience. There's no tolerance for them speaking up and saying, ‘No, this is not what you should be doing.’"
In some cases, the child may begin treating the parent as a subordinate, according to Wellington.
Some parents begin to notice a shift when their adult children start treating them with disrespect, pushing back on their opinions and positioning themselves as the authority in the relationship, she said.
"They become the authority; they flip it. Anytime you say something, you’ll see them bark at the parent and push back on the parent. They really have no respect for the parent."
Different worldviews
Wellington also pointed to major differences in political, religious or lifestyle beliefs as a possible source of growing distance between parents and adult children.
She suggested that some young people who become estranged are "more liberal in thinking," while acknowledging that the dynamic can also work in the opposite direction when a parent holds especially strong ideological views.
"There is extremism sometimes where the parent is extremely something, and then the child … goes the other way," she said.
Richard Blake, Ph.D., a Texas-based psychology researcher who focuses on anxiety and family estrangement, said an adult child’s unwillingness to consider differing views may signal trouble.
He suggested that personality may play a role, with more argumentative adult children who are less willing to consider differing views potentially more prone to family estrangement.
Another possible warning sign, according to Blake, is if the adult child has begun cutting off other people. He said parents should take note if an adult child has repeatedly stopped speaking to relatives or openly boasts about ending relationships.
"Chances are, they're going to cut off someone else, and it may be the parent," he said. "If you haven’t been cut off yet, you may be in the firing line there."
Communication breakdown
Ongoing communication problems may be an early warning sign, Blake said, particularly when an adult child feels that a parent refuses to listen or acknowledge the child’s point of view.
"They may say, 'My parents just don’t listen. I cannot get through to them. It’s like talking to a brick wall.'"
Parents who consistently dismiss their children’s concerns should not be surprised when conflict develops, he said.
"If you don’t listen to your child, then don’t be surprised if you have conflict with them."
Blake recommends listening actively, avoiding interruptions, repeating back what the other person has said and asking a simple follow-up question: "First, you say, 'Is there more?'"
Villa Vie Residences Executive Chairman Mikael Petterson (right) posed for a photo with a passenger before the Odyssey cruise ship set sail in 2024.
Liam McBurney/PA Images via Getty Images
A "never-ending" cruise was halted because of soaring fuel prices. Its founder blames the Iran war.
Mikael Petterson says he's considering bankruptcy for his company, Villa Vie. "I feel awful."
He says residents began to jump ship when the company asked them for emergency loans.
The founder of the "never-ending" cruise that stalled in Cambodia told Business Insider he's doing his best to right the ship.
"I feel awful," Mikael Petterson said when reached by phone Wednesday. The vessel's evicted residents are "counting on me to make the decisions here, and there's nothing else I'm focused on."
After a stormy two years at sea, he had a plan last week to keep the ship's finances afloat, he said.
With his company, Villa Vie Residences, Petterson had promised a new way of life: People could spend six figures to purchase one of 509 cabins on a luxury cruise ship called the Odyssey, and sail around the world for the rest of their lives.
Reality was different. Unexpected mechanical problems delayed the ship's launch for months. Some passengers were unhappy with their cabins. Then the war in Iran sent fuel prices soaring. Residents began to jump ship.
That began a financial whirlpool that sucked the ship under. The price surge was the beginning of a "cascading effect" that led Villa Vie to shut the Odyssey down on Tuesday, Petterson said. The company told passengers living aboard to leave the ship within hours.
"Nobody that's tried residential cruising has succeeded, and we've gone further than anyone else," said Petterson, Villa Vie's founder and executive chairman. "But I think we would have been absolutely fine — and we would have seen this through — if there was no Iran war."
Until last week, Petterson said, he was in talks with a potential investor and was expecting a new infusion of cash. When the deal fell apart, he said, the company was out of options. Now he's considering bankruptcy. He said he understood why residents said they felt shocked and heartbroken.
"I'm the villain in the story, but I'm doing everything I can to support the residents on a solution," he said.
A turbulent launch
The Villa Vie Odyssey was supposed to set sail from Belfast in May 2024. But it wasn't yet seaworthy.
Villa Vie Residences had retrofitted the three-decade-old ship and sold permanent cabins at prices ranging from $119,999 to $439,999. The company's pitch to residents was an endless cruise with stops at more than 400 ports of call and a global circumnavigation every three-and-a-half years. Buyers uprooted their landbound lives with plans to live out the rest of their days on a luxury floating hotel with a pool deck and spa.
Mechanical problems — including issues with the aging ship's rudder — kept the ship in dry dock, leaving some passengers stuck in Belfast for months. Preparing the ship for launch cost $15 million more than what Villa Vie had expected, Petterson told Business Insider.
Passengers finally boarded the Odyssey four months after its scheduled departure.
Liam McBurney/PA Images via Getty Images
Once onboard, some passengers were unhappy with their accommodations. Two passengers sued last year, claiming that the ship's living quarters and amenities weren't as promised. One of them also lamented the noise from a pickleball court installed over his cabin. Villa Vie has disputed the claims and said it honored the terms of its contracts. Both lawsuits are ongoing.
Petterson said the ship's first year-and-a-half at sea was "a ginormous undertaking" beset by financial challenges, but the company had put in place a plan for the operation's cash flow to break even by the second quarter of 2026.
Then, in late February, the United States and Israel launched a war in Iran.
Jumping ship
Fuel prices surged. The Odyssey uses marine gas oil, or MGO.
Villa Vie had typically paid around $600 or $700 per metric ton for the Odyssey's fuel, Petterson said. By March, the price of MGO in Singapore had soared to nearly $2,000 per metric ton, according to data from Ship & Bunker, a trade publication.
Unlike larger cruise lines, Villa Vie didn't have the scale to absorb the higher prices, Petterson said.
"They're able to hedge and take away some of that risk, but we're too small of a company to do that," he said.
In April, Villa Vie wanted residents to help shore up its finances. The company asked residents to loan Villa Vie money, offering them interest rates of 12% to 24%, according to a letter viewed by Business Insider. Villa Vie also changed the ship's itinerary, canceling stops at some ports to stretch its fuel supply, Petterson said.
Some residents got "scared," Petterson said. They sold their cabins to other people who wanted to live aboard. That, in turn, made things more difficult for Villa Vie's sales team, which was still trying to find buyers for the remaining vacancies on the ship, he said.
The Odyssey's passengers were mostly Americans; some of them were content creators. In Substack posts and YouTube videos, they posted about their experiences, some positive and some negative, for the roughly two years that it sailed the world.
Some travel bloggers and social media posters blamed Villa Vie's management for the operation's financial troubles. The negative publicity made it harder to bring more people aboard, Petterson said.
By the start of June, fuel prices were falling and things were looking up for Villa Vie, Petterson said. The Odyssey had sold 85% of its units, he said. Villa Vie announced plans to launch another residential cruise ship that would be bigger and better than the Odyssey.
Then in July, fighting between the US and Iran expanded. Fuel prices jumped, and the company's prospects plunged again, he said.
As fuel prices remained high, Villa Vie entered into talks with Oneil Khosa, the former CEO of Margaritaville's cruise line, to inject cash and join as an operational partner, Petterson said. Last week, the negotiations turned into "a game of chicken that just blew up in everyone's face," he said. Talks fell apart.
Khosa didn't immediately respond to a request for comment.
Villa Vie Tuesday gave passengers eight hours to leave the ship, passengers told Business Insider.
AFP via Getty Images
Villa Vie announced that the Odyssey was suspending operations while it was docked this week at the port of Sihanoukville in Cambodia. The price of MGO in Cambodia is now $2,200 per ton, Petterson said, and in Manila, it is even higher.
Barbara Fiegel, 62, who had lived with her partner aboard the Odyssey since December 2024, returned to the ship with her partner later that evening and the following day to pack their belongings.
"I couldn't stop crying," she said.
Petterson said the company could undergo a court-supervised restructuring that would allow management to remain in control, or it could have to liquidate.
"We just don't have the financial ability to sustain normal operations for the time being," he said. "So we're protecting the asset and laying it up until we can find a solution going forward."
Petterson expressed pride in the "community of almost 400 residents" that sailed around six continents. He said letting them down felt "incredibly deflating."
"I'm working day and night to find a way to get through this," he said.
Joshua Nelken Zitser contributed reporting.
Have you spent time on the Villa Vie Odyssey as a cabin owner, renter, or staff member? If you have a story to share, get in touch with us at jzitser@businessinsider.com.
Kyiv's military campaign resulted in over 100 Russian vessels being hit in the Azov sea during the summer — negatively impacting Russia's economy and contributing to an increase in global grain prices.
When we had a baby, though, our setup started to feel less and less fair.
We agreed to combine most of our money, and it's helped us feel like a team.
Maybe it's because I'm an only child raised by a single mother, but I've always valued independence.
I walked down the aisle alone. I'll happily go out to dinner or a movie by myself. When faced with a problem, my instinct is to wrestle with it myself rather than ask for help. (I'm working on that one.)
And when my husband and I got married, I was adamant about keeping our finances separate.
For years, this arrangement worked beautifully. But after we had a baby in the summer of last year, I began to wonder whether the financial independence I'd clung to was actually working against us.
Keeping our finances separate gave me a sense of freedom
We opened a joint account after buying a house, but continued to keep most of our money in separate accounts.
Rebecca Strong
The concept of combining finances has always made me uncomfortable, mostly because I didn't like the idea of having to justify any impulse purchases I've made after working particularly hard. My husband was always on the same page.
The first time we really talked about changing our system was when we bought a house together in 2020, several years before we got married. We knew that this, of course, would come with a lot of shared expenses.
We decided to open a joint account, and to both deposit the same amount each month to cover those expenses — like the mortgage, utilities, and groceries. Then, we kept the remainder of our earnings in separate checking accounts.
When my husband wanted to splurge on some new audio equipment, he didn't feel the need to consult me. Similarly, I didn't have to "ask permission" every time I wanted to get my hair done or go out for a nice dinner with a friend.
To me, this system reflected just how much we trusted each other to make financially responsible decisions with our own money. Besides, it felt fair: We were both contributing equally to maintaining our home, while preserving some autonomy.
After having a baby, our separate finances started creating tension
In 2025, we had a baby. Suddenly, finances felt a lot less cut-and-dried.
Because my husband and I are both freelancers, every hour one of us spends working is often an hour the other spends caring for our son. So, when my husband takes a last-minute gig, I lose that time to work, but I don't directly benefit from what he earns — and vice versa.
We started to find ourselves competing for the working hours we needed to cover day care and the mortgage, even though we were supposed to be operating as a team. The "every man for himself" dynamic felt completely antithetical to what marriage was supposed to be.
Meanwhile, the costs of parenthood — diapers, formula, day care, clothing — were accumulating, forcing us to contribute more and more to our joint account. And now, one of us often had to sacrifice earning opportunities so the other could work.
During one of our recent weekly marriage check-ins, I expressed some resentment about how I'd been responsible for picking up our son from day care most days the previous week, while my husband was able to work much longer into the night.
"I'm contributing the same amount, but I'm not being given enough time to earn that amount," I said.
Combining more of our money helped us feel like a team again
Now, merging our money feels more equitable.
Rebecca Strong
Since our time and responsibilities are so intertwined these days, and we have a longer list of shared expenses than ever, we realized that the best way to make our situation feel more equitable was to merge more of our money.
In the past, we each deposited the same fixed dollar amount into our joint account every month. Now, we contribute nearly all our earnings to that account and set aside the same amount for both of us to spend as we wish.
That change helped curb some of the competition and resentment. Now, when one of us takes on an extra gig, client, or project, it feels like a win for both of us — regardless of who's earning the paycheck.
That's not to say we've found the perfect arrangement. We're still figuring out how much personal spending money makes sense to set aside and which major expenses warrant a conversation.
The important thing, though, is that we've realized independence and partnership aren't mutually exclusive. We share the same financial goals, so it only makes sense to share our earnings. We're not giving up our financial independence, but redefining what it means to us.
I used to fancy myself as a binfluencer, the first mover on bin night who signals to the neighbourhood what colour bin they should be wheeling out this week.
I used to fancy myself as a binfluencer, the first mover on bin night who signals to the neighbourhood what colour bin they should be wheeling out this week.
Villa Vie Residences has suspended operations of its residential cruise ship Villa Vie Odyssey in Cambodia, forcing residents to disembark as soaring fuel costs push the company toward financial restructuring....
My partner and I often joke that we're in a 'middle-distance' relationship.
Lindsey Galloway
My partner lives in a spacious house in rural Colorado, and I live in a condo in Boulder.
We haven't found a place that fits both of our needs yet, so we're content living 45 minutes apart.
There are challenges, but we enjoy spending lots of time at each other's homes.
Every weekend, my partner makes the best breakfast: over-medium eggs, handmade tortillas, and fresh hash browns.
We often eat outside thanks to Colorado's bright, sunny days, then we'll walk around the lake, watch some football, and spend the evening roasting marshmallows over the fire pit.
Then, when Sunday night arrives, I get in my car and drive the 45 minutes back to my dream condo to get ready for the week ahead.
My partner and I met at work 13 years ago, and we intend to spend the rest of our lives together, but we still live apart. We know each other's rhythms, quirks, and needs, and have no secrets, just separate addresses.
I often joke that we're in a "middle-distance" relationship. At least we're in the same state, but it's also not always easy or convenient to drop by for dinner.
Living apart lets us each keep a home we love
Both of us are divorced, and we both love the houses we have.
My partner lives in rural northeastern Colorado and bought his home after his divorce. It's bigger than mine, with a huge yard and a custom-designed patio built for entertaining.
His neighborhood isn't exactly walkable, but he's originally from a small town in Texas, so he doesn't mind driving longer distances to get to places he wants to go.
Meanwhile, after my divorce, I moved back into the Boulder condo I had been renting out while married. My unit is smaller than my partner's, but I love its mountain views and proximity to all my favorite places, like my go-to local bakery.
It needed a lot of work when I moved back in, but I invested in new paint and flooring to really make it mine again.
I want to stay close to Boulder, and he wants a big house. The tight, expensive housing market has made it tough to find a new place we both love.
Though we've toured many houses together over the last six months, we haven't been impressed by any of them enough to leave the places we've already made our own.
Our setup isn't as tough as people think
We've built a routine that works well for us.
Lindsey Galloway
One thing that has made this arrangement easier is that we're used to living out of our suitcases. I'm a professional travel writer, and he works for a company based on the East Coast. We also love to explore new places together whenever we can.
When we are both home in Colorado, we've found a routine that has worked pretty well for us. My partner often spends some weeknights here, where we're close to restaurants, friends, walkable downtown Boulder, and other things to do after work.
Then, I'll go up to his house for quiet, relaxed weekends, and to watch my favorite team on the 100-inch screen (go Raiders!). We also tend to entertain at his bigger house.
Both of us get bored easily, so having a change of scenery and routine keeps life feeling fresh. My 14-year-old pug has adapted, too, and travels with me between places.
To make things easier, I've bought duplicates of staples like deodorant and an electric toothbrush, so I'm not schlepping them (or forgetting them!) every weekend.
That said, there are challenging things about our setup. Packing up every few days can be a hassle, and it can be stressful to land at the airport and decide which house to go to, especially when I miss both my partner and the feeling of being "home."
We always make an effort to overcommunicate our plans and extend understanding whenever one of us just needs to get home to do a load of laundry.
We'll find our dream home eventually
We plan to move in together eventually.
Lindsey Galloway
Every day, I'm scrolling listings that meet both our picky criteria and calling up agents for showings, but so far, we haven't loved anything as much as our current homes.
It sounds frustrating, but we both think this is a pretty good problem to have: It gives us more leverage in the homebuying process and means we don't have to settle for something that is only half-right or makes just one of us happy.
We're confident that we'll find a home that fits us both, but in the meantime, navigating the middle-distance has only made our relationship stronger.
Olympic gold medalist takes third place in floor exercise final, adding to string of victories this year, after being barred from competing at last year's Indonesia championships
The author and her husband have a 23-year age gap.
Courtesy of Caroline Chirichella
My husband is 23 years older than I am, but our age difference never bothered me before.
Now that he's 61 and we're raising two young kids, I'm noticing our different energy levels.
I love our life together, but I'm struggling with the realities of our age gap.
When my husband and I first met back in 2014, we had what many would consider a whirlwind romance. We met, fell in love almost instantly, moved in together after a year, got engaged six months later, married a month after that, and a little over a year later, welcomed our first child.
It was all very exciting, rushed, and filled with emotion and love.
I'm also a very rational person who doesn't get easily swept up in the moment. So we talked about a lot of the "hard" decisions that couples so often neglect to discuss at the beginning of a relationship. We talked about children, our future, and what we wanted our lives to look like. That's why, now, more than 12 years later, it's surprising to find myself struggling with something I thought I had already made peace with: our age gap.
He is 23 years older than me
My husband and I have a 23-year age difference. Yes, I was always aware of it. And, to be honest, it never really made a difference to me.
The author's husband is now in his 60s and the couple has two young kids.
Courtesy of the author
Especially when it came to the big life decisions, including having children, we had those conversations before we even got engaged. I knew exactly how old he was. I knew there would be things about growing older together that would be different for us.
But I guess there's a big difference between being aware of something that could eventually happen and actually living it.
Our age difference has been showing up in more ways than one lately, and there's a part of me that's angry with myself for being surprised by it.
It's not like my husband was always going to be the 48-year-old I met when I was 25. I knew he would age. I knew things would change as he got older. I knew there would eventually be a point when the difference between us became more noticeable.
I just don't think I ever wanted to admit to myself exactly how much.
He's in his 60s now
I knew he was going to be an older father. I knew all of this. But knowing something and seeing it firsthand are two very different things. Lately, I've seen just how much his 61 years are catching up to him, and it's been putting me in a strange place.
I keep a lot of things together for my family. We have two young children, and I have my own business. There is already a lot that weighs on me. But what I've noticed recently is my husband's physical health beginning to catch up with his age.
Courtesy of the author
Don't get me wrong — my husband is in great shape for a 61-year-old. But at the same time, most 61-year-olds aren't running after toddlers or handling the daily insanity of school drop-off and pick-up.
And that difference is becoming harder for me to ignore. What bothers me most is how naive I feel. I knew this was a possibility. Quite frankly, my husband knew it, too. When we discussed having children, we were always on the same page, but he expressed his concerns about being an "old" dad. I heard him. We talked about it. We made the decision together.
And yet, now that I'm watching the reality unfold in front of me, I'm beginning to feel guilty. As though I've been selfish. As though somehow this isn't fair to my kids.
I see how much fatherhood — and, frankly, being a husband — can weigh on him.
The everyday insanity of being part of a household with a high-maintenance 8-year-old and a very independent 3-year-old is a lot for anyone, myself included. But it's especially a lot for a 61-year-old.
Sometimes he physically can't keep up with our 3-year-old, who runs at a pace that could outrun the best of us. Sometimes he mentally can't keep up with our eight-year-old, who talks at about a million miles a minute.
And those moments make the age difference feel very real.
It's not just the fatherhood aspect
I feel his patience with me beginning to waver, too, and I wonder how much of that is because we're simply in such different phases of life.
I have a thriving public relations firm, and I feel like I'm just getting started. I have energy and ambition and a feeling that there is still so much ahead of me.
He had a contracting firm for many years, but that chapter of his life is well behind him now. At his age, he should be enjoying retirement. Instead, he's a stay-at-home dad and handles a huge amount for our family. But he's far from retired.
He's the only one who drives, so he's the family's chauffeur. He makes appointments and handles logistical things. He oversees the renovations on our house. He does the grocery shopping. He does so, so much.
And the truth is, at this age, maybe he shouldn't have to.
Our relationship itself hasn't really changed. We are still very lucky to have an incredibly open and loving relationship. We talk about these things. We try to give each other space and understand where one another is coming from. We each do what we can mentally and physically for each other, for our children, and, just as importantly, for ourselves.
I think what we're realizing is that neither of us has ever been here before.
We knew there was an age gap when we met. We knew what it meant on paper. We talked about the difficult possibilities before we got married and before we had children.
At 25, I could understand that my husband was 23 years older than me. At 38, I can feel it.
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