Okay, sometimes, it's not all sunshine and light around here. I was reminded of this as I was reading a friend's recent entry, about how she was jealous, resentful, and wanted her husband's freedom, and I had a flashback to the last two Saturdays.
Now, before you read on, and think I'm married to a lout, I have to say, he's not. He's a genuine good guy. He helps me out quite a bit, it's just sometimes, I have to wonder, do I really need to nag him about the things that need to be done around the house while I'm gone? Things I may not be finished with, but he could finish? It can be frustrating...
I was annoyed within sight of the kitchen Saturday, because I came home from work, and opened the door to dishes, hungry kids, the same three piles of laundry in the hallway, and wet dogs that tracked dirt/water into the house when I let them back inside (so I had to mop, too, within minutes of walking in.) He was in our bedroom, reading. Drowsy. And the previous Saturday, when I'd called him on the stack in the sink, he had the gall to say he didn't do the dishes because "I've been busy entertaining your kids." Excuse me? MY kids? So Sat evening, in the middle of my getting things in order brouhaha, I told him to say something along the lines of "you are the household champion" because I did all that, and kept the kids entertained. Everyone fed, everyone happy. You know, what I do every single effing day, with one hand tied behind my back, and just as few hours of sleep under my belt as he's had.
Then there's my job, where my supervisors, while they are pleased to see me, act like I'm a second-class citizen because I'm not there, or they have a view of me being inconsistent in my attendance (partially true in the past, due to Mr W's accident/surgeries, and work schedule, but not so much anymore). I suck it up, because I work part time to live the dream, so to speak. Who cares if it means any aspirations or goals I might have about my work stagnate and eventually disappear? S-U-C-K it up, girl, and btw, don't forget to pick up some milk on the way home.
And I can't complain tooo much about someone resting on their days off when they work more than 40 hours a week to provide for us. I'm grateful for it. I realize he needs to rest. I encourage it. I -dare I say it- spoil him quite a bit, because I'm a good wife that way.
But that doesn't mean I don't wish I could just go, say, hey, I'm going to go to work today, and not have to worry about who's minding the madhouse. I'm going to lunch with my friends. I'm going shopping, be back later.
Freedom is so not freedom if you cart the three yr old along, is it?
The last time we discussed this, of course, because he's a man, he ranted back, and tried to come up with a solution (not a great one, but he gets credit for the effort). "Dude," I said, "I just need you to listen. I'm not trying to fight. Our situation is the best solution at the moment." I just wanted him to hear me, and appreciate my take on the issue.
I know I accepted this position with open eyes, open heart, and that it's not fair to any of us to want to shift midstream now; work more, and Mommy less. He is awesome to me, and it's just this little bit of a hiccup that pushes my buttons, that when I come home from work, I'm not able to just sit; but when he comes home from work, or is off, then the rest of us leave him in peace, and he isn't expected to do anything else. My fault? Partially. But he's a grown-up. I don't think I could sit, in good conscience, and watch him run around like a chicken with its head cut off as he did umpteen little tasks right when he walked in the door from work. So why can he sit and watch me do it? (besides hoping he's gonna get a flash?)
He made it up to me on the Sundays after. I came home a week ago Sunday, and he was in the middle of a cleaning-the-blinds frenzy, a task I've put off for far too long. Yesterday, when I got in, he was in the process of feeding the kids, and had just come in from Lowe's because we had a faulty light switch, so he took all 4 of the rugrats to the store, got it, priced some ceiling fans for me, came home and fixed the switch.
Sigh. I guess I can cut him some Saturday slack, when the rest of the week, he rocks.
Besides, ultimately, it's all about balance, not who took the garbage out last. Sometimes, I lose sight of that when I'm peeling the Fruit Rollup off the floor for the 10th time in a day.
And it's about appreciation for the end of the day, when it's quiet, and I can look at him, realizing that sometimes, it's good to put that irritable energy to use.