The enemy of a great relationship is complacency. It begins so innocently. You forget how attractive, funny or caring your honey is because you’re together all the time. You get wrapped up in your “stuff” and forget to do the little, day-to-day things that make your sweetheart aware of your love. You forget how good life feels because you picked someone amazing and the lottery win of being picked back. Before you know it, you reach the relationship expiration date— the day one of you wakes up and thinks, “What am I doing here?”

The antidote to complacency is dating. Unfortunately, many couples stop dating once the deal is struck. Continuing to date after marriage or committing to a life partnership, however, is critical to keeping the ooh-la-la factor alive IF you do it right. Here’s how:

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Date night. You know it’s good for your relationship. You want to. You mean to. But, darn it, you’re busy with a house to run, bills to pay, bosses to please, projects to complete, kids to care for—and on and on. Add the unexpected—sick kids, car problems, leaking pipes—and it’s hard to find the time to even grab a cup of coffee together. But think of it this way: that laundry list of responsibilities and worries shouldn’t be what stands in your way, it should also be what fuels you. It should be what lights a fire under your collective butts to come together as a couple, without distraction, even if only for a couple of hours a week. Those excuses? They’re nonsense. Let’s take a closer look:

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Eat your broccoli. It’s good for you.

Take your cod liver oil. It’s good for you.

Exercise daily. It’s good for you.

Have sex. It’s good for you.

Huh? Broccoli, cod liver oil, exercise and sex are all in the same do-it-cuz-it’s-good-for-you category. Don’t you think that argument (and we’ve heard a lot of it lately) makes having sex sound like something you do while holding your nose?  Something you have to do because it’s good for you? Imagine saying to your sweetheart, “Okay, had my daily dose of veggies, went for a run, took my vitamins and fish oil, so how ‘bout it, babe, ready for a roll in the day?” Yeah, that’ll stoke the fires. Not.

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Do you sometimes wonder what happened to that randy, can’t-get-enough couple you used to be? You know, before the fatigue of everyday life set in and before the kids arrived. Back when you could have the week from hell and still strap on your dancing’ shoes and, after a great night out, have energy for sex. If you just sighed nostalgically, I get it. I understand how easy it is to let the demands of everyday life take precedence over romance. I know how easy it is to find yourselves, on what used to be date night, in sweats, watching a Netflix, eating delivery pizza, and drifting off before the end of the movie. Been there. Done that.

Every relationship guru on the planet, including me, recommends that you schedule regular date nights and times for sex. You have to make your relationship a priority or one day you’ll wake up to find it gone. That doesn’t mean you can ignore your relationship the rest of the time. In fact, with just a little imagination you can turn everyday events, such as a trip to the grocery store, into acts of emotional foreplay that enhance intimacy–in and out of the bedroom. How? Let’s take a look.

Grocery shopping is one of those chores you can’t get around. Ya gotta eat!  The trick is getting it done AND using the opportunity to engage in emotional foreplay. Emotional foreplay is doing those things that make your sweetheart feel high-on-a-pedestal adored, always-number-one special, you-deserve-the-best nurtured, and can’t-live-without-you cherished. So here are some ideas for you:

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During my marriage I’ve had two black ‘n blue eyes—one of them is just now fading, neither from Dale’s fist (violence isn’t in his nature even when he’s to-the-max irritated with me) and each a reminder of how moments of intimate togetherness pop up in surprising ways. Here’s how I got this one . . .

Excited about attending the Rally to Restore Sanity, we arrive Friday evening in DC. The plan: settle in, change, and go to dinner. Small hitch: Dale has left my suitcase in Richmond. Problem solved by finding and getting to Macy’s and CVS (we do) without getting lost (we don’t). If you’ve ever driven in an unfamiliar city with one of you navigating by iPhone Google Maps, you’ll understand how nerve-frayed we are when we sit down to a late dinner.

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My friend Susie and her husband keep a joint journal of their marriage. When the spirit moves, he or she pulls the journal off the shelf and writes. They write about everyday things, express their feelings about something the other of them did that was hurtful, disappointing, thoughtful, or especially meaningful. They write how they’re feeling about their marriage, careers, friendships, and lives. Their individual musings are there for the other to read and to learn from. When they travel, their pictures go in their journal and each of them writes about the trip. They individually read the journal to see what the other has written, and, other times, they pull it off the shelf, read it together, and talk about what they’ve read. A joint journal. One of the coolest ideas I’ve heard in a very long time—a great way to celebrate and memorialize a marriage.

Hubby Dale and I once decided to keep a journal of the wonderful meals that Dale—a great chef—prepares, including the wine we serve, what friends join us, a “review” of the meal, etc. I think that lasted one, maybe two meals before we forgot about it. As much as I love the idea of a joint journal, these old dogs are not likely to learn that new trick. We’re talkers, are comfortable sharing our feelings and big on “remember when.” True, we can’t always recall the detail we otherwise might if we journaled, but our remember-when conversations always capture the essence of what we were feeling and doing then.

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The San Francisco Giants just made it to the World Series. Imagine doing that without great coaching. Imagine becoming The Biggest Loser sans Jillian Michaels. Yoyo Ma became the world’s greatest cellist by studying with the best teachers. Warren Buffett became a billionaire with mentoring from one of the shrewdest investors ever born.  The amazing Taylor Swift has a brilliant producer. No one becomes excellent in anything without being coached by others.

Think of the many ways you’re coached: on your softball or volleyball team, through guitar or watercolor lessons, in a weight loss or fitness program, through your church’s ministry, by a senior supervisor or business coach, through watching a cooking how-to show, and the list goes on. You eagerly accept such coaching because it provides the instruction, feedback, and support you need to excel. We all “get it” that no matter how naturally gifted one may be, it takes coaching to turn that gift into excellence. Well, we get it except when it comes to our relationship where, paradoxically, we expect to get it right with little to no help.

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Halloween. Every year it’s a challenge to be creative and accommodating to my I’m-not-wearing-that sweetie at the same time.

I love creative costumes. My ex was cooperative. He once allowed me to dress him as a topless dancer. The boobs I made for him out of balloons, cut up pantyhose, and baby bottle nipples would have been more convincing had I been able to get them the same size. Regardless, the costume was a big hit and I suspect—based on how well he carried it off—that my ex rather enjoyed the wig and the fishnets.

Dale, my adored husband, on the other hand, is not so cooperative. Not in a million—make that a trillion—years would he wear the topless dancer costume. If Dale had his way, we’d nix the costume thing entirely. He’s rejected some great ideas. For example, I once suggested we dress as the bottom-line and the headline. One of us would wear a big butt (think of the Fruit of the Loom guys) and the other would wear a big head (think of Mr. Potato Head). Each would have a big black line diagonally crossing it. Cute and, if I say so myself, downright clever. Alas, my creativity has gone unrealized. Deep sigh.

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Last week I had mother-daughter date night with my daughter Lisa, usually dinner (with catch up conversation) and then a movie. This week it was Eat, Pray, Love. I thought the movie was so-so but it was the trailer for an upcoming romantic comedy that got me thinking. It posed the question how do you know you’re in love. I can’t answer that question for everyone, but here’s my story.

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Intimacy in our committed relationship. It can be so elusive. Sure, you get snippets of it here and there—enough to make you long for the real deal. You get glimpses of what achieving the Nirvana of connections is all about, You want it. You crave it. You even know what it takes to get it. Too often, however, the desire for intimacy is overcome by fear, the fear of being naked and exposed in front of someone who has the power to hurt you when you are most vulnerable.

You can experience physically intimacy with your duds on—a hug, a kiss, holding hands—but the ultimate intimacy is sans clothing, skin-on-skin, lights on. To be naked in front of another person is to be exposed and vulnerable. Even the most secure of us, will think twice about shedding jeans and tee-shirt if the last time you did, your sweetheart said, “You oughta do something about that gut.”  Being clothed makes us feel protected and allows us to hide what at least we perceive to be our flaws. This is even more so when it comes to emotional intimacy.

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