When A Righty Writes A Left-Handed Apology...

Not long ago I read an article about why men cheat on their wives. I wasn't doing any research or anything but there are some sleepless nights when I think I get pretty close to the end of the Internet and the pickings get kinda slim. Anyway, one of the reasons provided by one of the interviewees (I think the name the author provided to protect the interviewee's identity was "Jeff") was that he felt like he could never win in any situation with his wife. Hmmmm, I remember thinking. That sounds kind of familiar...

Last post aside, Hubby's pretty terrific. Well, taking away the last post and the fact that I still can't print ANYTHING from my computer EVER. Someone could have a gun to my head and say, "Print me that page or it's your life," and I'd have to reply, "Can we please step out to Hubby's office right after I save this as a Word document and email it to myself so I can access it from his desk? It'll be just a moment," KABLAM! Too late-- I'm dead.

Actually-- wait, the last post, no printer and all the dead-slash-flickering lightbulbs in the house and garage aside. Oh, and the shoes that are still everywhere. See? See how easy it is? There are all these little things I live in each and every single day while he's at work that just nudge and prod at me all the time and suddenly my world (and therefore everyone else's) is all about the things that irk me.


But the deal is this: I don't want that life and I don't want to be that person because that shoe (just like all the others in the house) could just as easily be on the other foot-- and it probably is.

For example, this morning Biscuit totally overslept. All week he's been getting up and ready and making me look REALLY bad rolling out of bed, throwing on jeans and a sweatshirt and driving him to school. I blundered blearily into his room this morning at T-minus eleven minutes to blast-off and we got him to school just as the bell was ringing and I badgered him all the way to the parking lot. He flopped out of the Starship Margaret with a "Sorry Mom, hope you have a good day," and off he went and I felt absolutely terrible. I'd just spent a solid eight minutes telling this kid that he needed to figure out how to better manage his time in the mornings, that eleven minutes means eleven minutes, not eighteen minutes and that when there are only eleven minutes we do not spent three of them on the edge of the bed deciding to wake up.

On the way home I realized that some stuff doesn't matter nearly as much as I let it. Yes, Biscuit needs to get to school on time, but harping on him to do things more this way and less that way is really no help at all and it only puts me in a foul mood which I then pass on to the rest of the house.

So I shut up.

And I chilled out.

And do you hear that?

It's the sound of the world still spinning. Nothing fell apart today because I didn't worry about it enough. Biscuit and I stopped at the park on the way home from school today and let the Beans run around for a while. They even put leaves in their mouths. Neither one choked and died and although it's only been eight hours since said leaves touched their sweet little mouths, aside from some nasty teething pain they don't seem to have contracted anything fatal.

In fact, all my kids seemed to have fun today.

But the biggest surprise happened tonight as Hubby and I were prepping the Beans for night-night. Having had their flu shots yesterday and only one Happy Nappy today (more on that later) and the extra playtime at the park, they were in Supreme Meltdown beginning at about 5:45-- writhing, screaming, kicking, pulling hair, attempting to remove nostrils, tear off cheeks and exsanguinate anyone within arms' reach. I literally had to stay in their room with them to keep them apart. But that was what we had to work with today, so no big deal!

"Thanks for keeping your cool today. It was really nice when everything got crazy that you just stayed calm." That's what Hubby had to say about things.

Ordinarily I enjoy receiving compliments but this one was a little tart 'n tangy. I know I've not been nearly as cool as I used to be and I haven't stopped to consider how much Hubby might miss that. I know I do, so he probably does too. That's not to say that I think Hubby's going to run out and find someone else who is more awesome than I (because we all know that's just plain impossible) but our little exchange brought into sharp focus how daily stresses-- the ones we're too busy to notice because our partner is just not doing enough and we have to work that much harder to pick up the slack which in turn creates a few more of those daily stresses-- become the focus of the relationship and how is that ever going to be anything good?

Hubby would say, "Look, I'm doing you a favor. All the things you're harping on and on about-- the printer, the lightbulbs, the shoes? It's all for you. You worry about the dude holding the gun to your head to get you to print something but I've already got that all taken care of. He puts the gun to your head and then you run. He can't see you well enough to hit you because the lighting's too dim. He can chase after you but he'll trip over the shoes and you can escape. See? All that and you didn't even have to print anything for him, which had you sat there and just done what he said he probably would have killed you anyway. I'm such a great guy! I'm saving your life every day!!!" And then I would laugh and everything would be okay. But life would have been much more enjoyable without all the dizzying dips and dives of the Hormonal Post-Partum Roller Coaster and all the whirlwindy mood swings that oddly magnify myriad stupid little nothings.

Because maybe what drives couples apart, especially when they toss so many kids into the mix, isn't the feeling that neither one can ever win but even just the sentiment that they are on opposing sides against each other. The last time I checked Hubby and I were supposed to be a team whose objective was to dominate the younger team which has us rather outnumbered and it was a feat accomplished much more easily today when one of us wasn't waiting for the other to screw up or freak out.

I'm looking forward to fewer bite marks. Yes, we still have a while to go before we're all the way through with that phase but at least now I won't get blindsided by a Bloodthirsty Bean while looking over my shoulder to shake my head at what Hubby's doing or not doing because winning an argument simply isn't worth our happiness.

Besides, if I did look the other way I'd probably just trip over his goddam shoes ;)