Thursday, February 2, 2012

That awkward moment when you realize your husband's an ass

Mr. Random is many things. Some wonderful. Some not so wonderful. Some a mixture of both.

For instance, he can be very black and white ultimatumish. It is not a very wonderful quality. This combined with his stubbornness and absolute refusal to engage in hypothetical what-if planning (it's "too hypothetical" anything hypothetical is "too hypothetical", which makes attempting to make plans for future possible events...well, a trial to say the least) is incredibly frustrating for me. Because I'm a planner. And I'd like to have an idea at least in place, for how to approach future possible scenarios.

And the black and white thing just gets my goat. The world is shades of gray for me. And in the gray there's all kinds of room for compromise. With Mr. Random. It's Black. Or it's White. Take your pick. No gray. No compromise.

For example. We're both very busy stressed graduate students at the moment. He's currently a graduate student who is student teaching in a high school. He's actually got a pretty sweet gig where he only has to teach 2 periods a day, but nonetheless, has loads and loads of work to do. Apparently. Because starting this week he's been coming home late every day, but the one day when I was still feverish (damn daycare germs) and asked him to pick up Wiggles from daycare. Which he had volunteered to do, in all fairness.


Let's take a moment, to realize that I'm a PhD graduate student currently (supposedly) working on her dissertation, TAing 20 hours per week, OH, and teaching 2 classes at the local community college on the side. I think it's fair to say I've got a lot on my plate. Despite that, when Wiggles got sick from daycare and had to stay home for a week...I'm the one that took the week off (and now I am so, so, so hideously behind). And, day in, day out, I'm the one that gets Wiggles up, ready, and dropped off at daycare. And then the one who gets him from daycare. Which, one, means I never have the option of staying late to work on my work, and two, means I'm doing the primary childcare too. On top of working 2 jobs, the only 2 jobs currently providing us an income. Oh. AND. I'm the one cooking dinner. Doing the dishes. The laundry. Hmmm.

This was honestly okay with me when Mr. Random would be home by 5pm (I get Wiggles at 4pm) so that he could spend time with him and whatever. But now that Mr. Random has started a habit this week (and I'm fairly convinced this will only continue and become an every day thing) of coming home at 6....6:30...I'm frustrated. Because Wiggles goes to bed by 6:30. Some nights it needs to be 6pm.

Which means. Mr. Random will go the whole damn day without laying eyes on our son. But more importantly, our son will only lay eyes on his father in pictures we have on the wall. Which he does point to. And smiles when he sees his Daddy. Heart. Wrenched.

Because Mr. Random's own father was a work-aholic. To the point Mr. Random doesn't really feel like he knows his dad or had a good relationship with him growing up. And I've been upfront since the beginning, and Mr. Random was in full agreement, that that is not acceptable when we have kids. No ignoring kids day in day out for work. Money is not worth that kind of lost time. And I know Mr. Random's dad regrets that lost time now. It's totally the Cats in the Cradle song. Ugh.

So. I brought this up to Mr. Random this morning. I tried to approach it as positively as I could, and not as a criticism. More as a - this is stressful. This is not what we talked about. Can you think of how we can fix this?

The response I got, goes back to Mr. Random being Mr. Black and White. His response to my request that he be home by 5pm each night for dinner and an hour of quality time with his son, was that, he could do that. Sure. But he'll probably be stressed out. He'll have to bring home his extra work. He'll probably have to spend ALL HIS OTHER time working on it. Which means he'll be stressed out. And he'll have to ignore me.

So. Those are the options he presents me. Either...he stays late working and ignores his son. Or. He brings his work home, and ignores me.

Well Sir. If you are asking me to choose between myself, or my son, which, by the way, thank you so much for putting me in that position, ASS, then I choose my son.

So that's the plan for now. And he keeps reiterating that he hopes I know what I'm getting into and that I better remember that I asked for this. Damn.

That awkward moment when you realize you married an Ass.

We need couples counseling, of this I'm convinced. But, it didn't seem like quite the right time to bring it up at the end of our "discussion." I've got an individual appointment tomorrow. I'll see if I can bring up couples counseling then and see what our options are...and then talk to Mr. Black and White about it.

Because as much as I want him to spend time with his son - really? I have to ask you to do this? - I know it's also just as important for Wiggles to see us as a happy, functioning couple. And what Mr. Random is currently proposing...won't really be that.

I am also, foolishly optimistic, that this goes one...he'll realize he can actually make more time for me too. And he doesn't have to be such an Ass.

We'll see.

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About this Blog

I have a journal. You know, the real kind...paper, bound in a book form...nice leather cover. And I do write in it...every few months. I like it, but somehow I find it hard to keep up regularly. I'm at a computer nearly all the time, so I find it easier to keep up on this blog. So, that's what this blog is for. To help me journal when I'm away from my journal. A place to collect my thoughts before I lose them to the chaos of my mind.

Or see my first post here. That's why I started this blog.