Monday, April 20, 2009

Beating my head against the wall

I so feel like I am fighting a losing battle. I should not feel like I am in a battle, or fighting, or losing....

We have decided that my hubby does better with a written list of things-to-do. I write the list, go over it with him, then get started on my day. That does not always work, but it is a good starting point.

The other day, #1 on the list was "Find me when the nanny gets here." I pointed it out to him, and made certain he understood I had a job for him once someone came around to watch the kids. At least, I thought he understood. He sent the nanny out to me. Twice. I told her (in Spanish) that Dave did not understand, I want Dave to come out for a few minutes. The nanny is a good woman, but she speaks broken English with a strong accent, and Dave has trouble talking and hearing.... Who's on First comes to mind.

Today, I asked Dave to swap car seats for me. It wasn't on the list, but he did it. It was a complicated matter, involving removing the strollers (yes, plural) so he could access Rowan's car seat for me, putting the strollers in the garage, and transferring the car seat in such a manner that Rowan would be safe. And he did all that just fine. I did not ask him to close the back end of the vehicle when he was done, so he stopped after transferring the carseat. Since it was pouring down rain, things got a bit wet...

And, like many men, he does not understand that he is not supposed to be our daughter's best friend. If she misbehaves at lunch, you do not give her popcorn and send her to her room. Talk about mixed messages! And then he wonders why she doesn't take a nap, or listens to what he has to say. He told me he was being nice to her. He is supposed to be her daddy, not her best friend. A 3-year-old will eat popcorn and candy all day if allowed. The daddy is supposed to say, "No".

So where does this leave me?

I'm the mean mommy, I guess. Dave is frustrated with the necessity of me having to write a list for him everyday, but he prefers it to no list. He is tired of realizing that there are some things he just doesn't get. Rowan acts out cause she doesn't understand the mixed messages she gets. She behaves much better for me than for Dave, but I can't have her in the office with my 24/7.

I have a friend who is into the entire domination/submissive subculture (he's a dom). I think about him periodically these days. He has a few women who live with him and he takes care of them. Sex aside, my understanding is that he does not leave them wanting for anything, as long as they do what he tells them to do. The situation seems to work for them. I can see how it would be a good relationship, if the trust really is there.

There is another guy I know in the dom/sub subculture. He wanted me to dom him, but that is another story, best told over several drinks. He was married, with kids. I asked him why he did not bring his wife into this lifestyle. His wife, he said, was his partner, not his master, and it was best to keep the two lifestyles separate.

I find myself thinking of these things recently. I take care of the bills, manage the money, figure out what we can afford to do and when to do it, find activities for the kids, direct the husband, nanny, kids, business. I am seeing myself more and more in a dom-type role. Problem is, I signed on for a partnership, and Dave is no longer a partner. He wants me to handle the money, he wants to be taken care of, he wants me to tell him what to do. I kinda feel like if this new role came with an instruction booklet, maybe I would cope better myself.

Well, what started as an obvious rant on life seems to have denigrated into a bit more insight into my personal life than I intended. Looking back on what I have read, I think I will leave it at that. Maybe someone can recommend a good book.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Maybe he is just being a guy....

I have almost decided that Dave did not have a stroke. He is just being a guy, and figured out how to get away with it.

Other people periodically ask me about Dave, and in my lower moments, I commiserate about how it gets tiring to have to remind him to flush the toilet, brush his teeth, feed the kids, go to the doctor's office. What I invariably get from everyone is, "Oh, my husband is like that, too!"

Then there are the times like today. We were at our daughter's pre-K, and they were having their Easter party, since next week is Spring Break. I asked Dave to get the camera out of the trunk of the car so we could take pictures.

"At home?"
"No, in the trunk of the car."
"In the back room at home?"
"No, in the trunk of the car."
"The car at home?"
"No, the car here. The trunk of the car here." (Gesturing towards the parking lot.)
"That car? Our car?"
"Yes. That car. In the trunk. In the back." (Gesture towards the car, then behind me as I pantomine driving the car. The kids are starting to think this is a great game.)
"Where in car."
"In the trunk. There is a basket." (I indicate a round basket with my hands, then pretend to pick it up by the handles and carry it.)
"In our car?"
"Yes. Our car. There. In the trunk. You will see it on top of the basket." (I use our sign for "look", then indicate a basket again.)

The kids are getting ready for an Easter Egg Hunt. The 3-year olds completely get the basket idea. Basket. Car. Right.

So, he goes out to the car. I can see through the window. He spends 10 minutes checking the back seat, moving papers, looking under the seat. He finally opens the trunk, immediately sees the camera, and comes back inside.

I don't want to hear how your husband is "just like that".