And now, stepping up to the plate...

Surprisingly, I made it through the day yesterday without turning into a raving lunatic before Mr W got home.  Earlier,  I'd medicated Audrey (thanks, Children's Motrin) and we ran around on our errands.  I stopped feeling guilty about not staying home when we were in Target and she asked for a new 'dressie.'  (Today, she is a bit congested, but seems ok.)  While we were out, a dashboard light came on.  Oh, my personal favorite --check engine.  Yeah, like I need that kind of aggravation. 

I abhor car maintenance.  I realize it's a necessary evil, but would rather get my naughty bits waxed than have to deal with it.   While I pay attention to how the vehicles behave, once something's up, I pass it on to Mr W.   Hey, I only listen to "Click and Clack";  there's no way I even approach that level of expertise.   Mr W gets right on it too (HA!) after about a month of "the car...the van..." nagging. 

Imagine my surprise when he inquired about the van after I got back from the inevitable trip to the store for "oops, I need ___" for dinner.  I told him the light was still on and he went into the garage to investigate.  I'm thinking ???? when he comes in and asks me "didn't you say it was due for an oil change and the transmission fluid needed changing too?"  "yeah"  "Ok, I'll be back."  Wow, I thought.  Cool, he can deal with it...crap, now I have to make dinner with the cranky girl stirring up trouble with the other kids.  As it is, my two oldest are seriously going to be sent packing if they don't stop the endless bickering that has erupted lately (but that is a story for another time.)  Oh well.  It could be worse, I could be doing it tomorrow with Audrey and Ryan in tow and trying to entertain them while the van gets worked on...no, making dinner with cranky girl at home is a better option at this point.

Mr W makes it back, and is happily full of toasted ravioli, chatting up Nolan.  I walk into the room as Nolan leaves, really looking forward to changing into the comfies, I have my hand on my zipper when Mr W says "Did you know he needs to get food coloring for his science fair project at school..." I cut him off "Yeah, so what?" "...for tomorrow?"  I rezip. "No way,"  I roll my eyes.  "I was just at the store, and he couldn't have mentioned it then???  Ok, I'll go in a minute."  And the next words out of Mr W's mouth floor me.  "No, I'll take him.  You've been running around all day, and just change, relax, whatever...tell me where I need to go, and I'll take him along to go get it." 

I start looking for the pod in the room, the one the aliens left when they took my real husband away.

I shouldn't be surprised.  He would help out a lot more, if I would just let him.  It's true.  I admit that I am a bit of a control freak about getting things done, taking care of everyone else, and sometimes forgetting about me.  I tend to spoil him in that I take on a lot of the kid/house stuff because he works long days, and I only work two.  Of course, I joke that I'm the one with two jobs, and bitch about not feeling like I contribute (financially) but he's really cool and tells me that the work I do here is just as important.  Which is what I try to focus on as I work another miracle when something expensive comes up, lol.

So I say ok.  And I let him run out with the boy to get what he needs, but before they go, I make a joke about ice cream.  Of course, he brings some back.  I tease him, "You know, you really didn't need to do this.  I'm sort of a sure thing..." 

I remember once, telling one of my friends that'd had a baby and was certain her husband would never be able to take care of it when she got back to work, not to sweat him over the small stuff.  He'd find a way to do things, and it wouldn't exactly match what she'd do, but it would still work out in the end.  Who cares what method he used, his or hers, the baby would still get fed, you know? 

I need to follow my own advice, it seems.  Remember that we are indeed a team, and let him do what he can to help me out.  Even when it's not my way of doing it.  No one'll starve, and a little shampoo in the eyes never hurt anyone. 

I won't be a lesser Mom just because I let him give me a hand now and then, I'll be a better one.  

And you know what they say about "when Mommy's happy...everyone's happy."