Middle of the night musings
Here I am. Awake. And I should most definately be asleep. The rest of them are. Even the dog. All day long (well at least most of it) I take care of them. The children, the husband, the house, the laundry. But it isn't ever good enough. "Yucky, mommy! I don't wanna eat this!" "Gimme. I wanna have!" "No, mine!" "If everything in this house isn't crustified, dog-eared, and shit-caked..." "You all just love to smear up this place." "Broken - that must be you all's middle name."
Darling daughter often reminds me that she loves me - when she's in trouble. Dear Husband has hardly said 10 words to me this week. He calls me on the way home from work - which I really and truly appreciate - and seems fine. Then he's home and I'm suddenly public enemy number 1. What's with that? I know I don't keep things as spic and span as he would - or thinks he would. But, damnit, I keep things picked up, I pay the bills, I fix healthy suppers, I take care of the babies, I rarely have time for myself. And when I do, I feel guilty about it. Not guilty like I should be with the kids, but guilty like I shouldn't have left the kids with him while I take 15 minutes to run an errand that would take me the better part of an hour with the kiddos in tow.
Why won't he talk to me? Sure, there's the whole "noncomunicative guy stereotype" but I don't think that's it. My brother called tonight. He casually mentioned a conversation he had had with his wife about how hard she works as a mom and what a huge full time job it is, etc. etc. If my man would just acknowledge that to me it would mean so much! I don't want to man/husband bash. That's not my point. I'm a romantic and someone who needs some encouragement every now and then. And encouragement and accolades from the man who is a part of me would mean more than just about anything.
There are so many things he just doesn't get, and I don't know how to help him get it. For instance, I've been with the children all day. Working through all their complaints, wants, needs, etc. Then 15 minutes after he comes home, he's "had it up to here" with their whining (or bickering or complaining or whatever). He doen't have the right to be fed up!!! I know, I know. He works all day. Yeah, but he works all day and then comes home spends half an hour reading a magazine as he sits on this porcilen throne - alone, without and audience, I might add. Then spends an hour or so working in the garage (kids can't come in there - "it's too dangerous" "I can't keep an eye on them while I'm doing stuff in here.") or typing away on his message board he gets so into. He communicates more with people he doesn't know than he does with me. And, to boot, he does it in another language so there's no possible way for me to be a part of it. Blech.
I thought that getting some of this out would make me feel better. I'm not so sure. He just started taking Lipitor. I keep reading that possible side effects include anxiousness, irratibility, being antisocial, etc. Great! More of the same traits he already has - now drug induced. But can I talk to him about it?? Nooooo. "I don't want to talk about it" says he. Fine. I just go on and co-exisist with him. Just like his parents. I don't want that! I want passion. Not just sexual passion. Passion for living. Passion for life itself. Passion for just about anything outside of a meticulously clean (not-gonna-happen) house. And passion that is fueled by joy not anger. "Get mad at it" he says as he cleans the kitchen floor that I have just cleaned the day before - why bother doing it at all. He just gets it in his head that something ought to be done. Then he does it whether it needs it or not. Boy oh boy, that makes me feel valuable - ha! I should have read a book or done a crossword puzzle or anything else, if he's just going to redo what I've already done.
Yes, I can be kind of messy. I have my little piles scattered about. But I do usually keep them contained to "my" areas. My desk, my chair, my bed side table. Not in the way of anyone. It's not always this yuck. But for the past several days in a row it has been. And then off and on for a few weeks before that.
I just don't know. I just don't know.