First I have to apologize for getting behind on my blogging. The thing is, hubby has been home a lot lately which means he is in the office. For some reason I can’t put my thoughts together when he is in the room with me. Yes, even after twelve years, his presence is a distraction to me. He is here now, watching election results, so I am sorry if this post turns out sucky.
Because he is in the room, it is only fitting that I recount a hubby story….
One night a few weeks ago I was ready for bed, but when I entered our bedroom I was faced with a mountain of forgotten unfolded laundry. So I hollered to hubby & asked if he would help me tackle it so I could go to sleep. He agreed and we set to work. However, after only a few minutes he walks away. So I ask: “what gives?” He explains that he had pulled out all of his stuff and already put it away, so he was finished. I immediately jump in with my argument: but most of what you wear goes to the dry cleaners, of course most of this is my clothes. I close with the certain guilt inducing “I have washed and put away almost every piece of laundry this family has had for 12 years, don’t you think it is unfair of you to refuse to put away my clothes.” His answer: “Yes it is unfair of me not to put away your clothes.” Then he leaves the room. And I just let him.
So, am I a doormat? Maybe. A realist? Usually. Storing this incident in my mental “crappy stuff you do” file to pull out during an argument three years from now? Duh, I’m female. No really here’s the deal. He works and I stay home. Period.
Still writing me off as a doormat? Okay, I’ll explain where I’m coming from. Lets go back about seventeen months to the day I decided I could not work outside the home and maintain my sanity.
The day Worm was born, hubby received a promotion that took his travel schedule from heavy to “wow, the baby has changed so much since I last saw him”. A month later Worm was smack in the middle of a big ol’ love affair with nursing, yet not a big fan of sleeping. I had not slept more than two uninterrupted hours since he was born and I was facing returning to work. With no preamble, no prior discussion, and no room for debate I announce “I have decided I can’t go back to work.” Hubby just looks at me and says “Okay.”
There was no discussion about what expenses we would cut, no budgeting the necessities to stretch our dollars, no re-delegation of household duties, and no timeline for my future return to work. He just jumped right on board and said we would make it work. I know he was terrified to be a single income family, but he put those fears aside because the kids and I had a need. Never once has he indicated to me that he is not 100% on board with the way our family is now structured.
He now works 80 hours a week at a job that makes enough money to comfortably support four people, but misses all sorts of cool things in his kids lives. I now work 80 hours a week at a job that I can rarely take a break from, but I get to experience every wonderful nuance of my kid’s lives.
So is it fair that he didn’t stay and help put away all the laundry? No. But would it have been fair of me to lob a laundry basket at his head? No.
It is never going to be fair. One of us will always be getting the short end of the stick. The point is we are both still holding on to the same stick so when we get to wherever our lives are going, we will get there together.
Got to go now, the laundry’s piling up.