I HATED tonight. I had big plans for a nice evening, nice dinner and nice last day of summer with my family. After icing my still healing [read: BROKEN] toes, I convinced everyone to shut down the technology portals in the house and head for the car. We headed out to one of several favorite parks (let’s face it: if it has parking and either grass, sand or playground equipment of any age/condition, it is a ‘favorite’). I wore the ‘wrong’ shoes, testing out my independence in a matching pair of sandals rather than the one regular and one surgical shoe pairing I’ve sported for the past two months since smashing the heck out of my right foot while ‘saving’ one of my art pieces as it plummeted to the concrete floor below (insert bare/naked foot to the rescue…art is fine, foot is severely broken in three places…BUT THE ART IS FINE).
The playground was fun. Kids had a great time. Hubby even pushed them around on the spinny/climby/acrobatty thing while I chatted on the phone with my Dad. Hubby scolded me for calling someone an a-hole while chatting with my Dad. A-hole is a really strong word for me. I’ve been accused of being ‘sickeningly VANILLA’, so saying A-hole let alone while on the phone at a playground is a pretty unusual scene for me. I was surprised to have said it. I was surprised and slightly offended when hubby called me out on it. I REALLY wanted to kick him in the shins, but I didn’t. Yes, it was my bad behavior/potty mouth, but HE didn’t have to point it out, did he?
On our way to the park, on our way to pick up a few bottles of water afterward and again on our way home, Hubby asked what my plan was for dinner. This should have been an innocent question, except that he knew that, while he was driving home from work, the kids and I were driving home from a butcher shop where we’d picked up steak for dinner tonight and a few things for the next several days. When he asked the first time, I reminded him we were driving home from there. When he asked the second time, I prompted him to remember the earlier conversation. When he asked the third time, I stopped myself from kicking him in the shins. Dude! Do you EVER listen?
Home again and I put an ice pack on my broken toes (yes, plural…and will they ever be done healing, because I’m all out of patience for this healing cycle). Before I do, I peal parsnips and carrots planning on making baked ‘fries’ and BBQ-ing steaks for dinner. I ask our 9-year old twins which of them will empty the dishwasher. I get SILENCE. Daughter finally answers and says “Not Me!”. I ask my husband for help in the kitchen. I hear him tell our son to come help me while he takes over the game on the X-box. Our son comes in…I tell him to wash his hands…he heads off to the bathroom and doesn’t return. When I call for him, I hear him in the hall say ‘oh, right!’. He’s been standing in the hall watching TV the whole time!
We don’t do any screen time during the school week. They don’t have cell phones or computers of their own or anything of the kind. The Screen-Time-Time-Suck infuriates me! I lost it. Hubby happily playing video games. Isn’t that nice? GRRRRR.
I grabbed my sunglasses, put on my least painful shoes and said ‘goodbye!’ as I walked out the front door. I couldn’t go far before my toes (yes, plural) started throbbing, so I stopped at the end of our drive and leaned against my car. After about 10 minutes, our son came out an apologized. The fact was, by then, I was mad at ALL THREE OF THEM, and I couldn’t accept his apology. I’m not a bad person. I’m someone who is very pragmatic. If you truly are sorry, then change your behavior. I’m jaded. I’ve been with my husband for 19 years. He has 50% of the guiding force in their behavior, and he doesn’t care enough (he cares PLENTY, but not about the details that are important to me) to follow through or focus, so why should they?!?
Hubby, when he realized I’d gone to our room to play on my I-pad rather than to make dinner, went ahead and made dinner. I refused to eat with them when he came to tell me dinner was ready because I’d magically started crying. Turns out, I sometimes need to feel appreciated. I’d busted my butt fixing/sorting/cleaning the kids rooms, family room, dining room and living room this week. In less than 24 hours since the kids got home from school, they and hubby had blown up the house. I love them like crazy, but not enough to MAKE ME crazy. Where’s the love? Where’s the appreciation? Where’s the respect?
Hubby has to work in the a.m. It’s his seventh day in a row. I’m not unsympathetic or ungrateful. I once owned my own business with employees and I worked 70+ hours seven days a week. It was a business I stared when I was 5 months pregnant with twins, so yes, I am familiar with multi-tasking. I have no sympathy for it, but I DO understand it. I very much love my hubby and kids, but every once in a while, I imagine having my own apartment somewhere where if I make a mess, I know I’ll Pick It Up, and it is a good thing. It reminds me of who I am. It reminds me of who I’d like to see them become. Most of all, it reminds me that I’m HUMAN, and as such, am prone to making mistakes, harsh and hasty decisions and above all, am capable of both forgiveness AND of being forgiven.
Hunter borrowed my phone while at the park to take a photo of a meadow covered in buttercups. I knew what shot he was going for, but I also knew I needed to work with him a little more before he nailed it. He took two pictures. I watched as he framed his shots and made sure I knew what he was going for. After he handed me back my camera, I lined up one more shot and took it as he ran to catch up with his Dad. Later, I punched the shot I took up a bit with contrast and color so the shadows and buttercups were a bit more dramatic. After they were done with saying prayers, I went into the bedroom the twinlets have opted to share on weekends to show them Hunter’s picture before they fell asleep. Both sat up in bed an said ‘Whoa! That’s AMAZING”! Tay was proud of her brother for catching a great shot. Hunter was proud of himself for catching such an awesome photo. Neither ever has to know that he had a little help from his Mom. I got HUGE hugs from both and appologies for having let us all down by not being helpful. They DO get it.
They love me. Often in spite of me…they love me. Eventually, if I keep harping regularly, they’ll pick up on a few of MY ways to show it.