The other day I took a shower following my late afternoon workout. It was time to make dinner and I didn't feel like getting "dressed dressed" if you know what I mean - back into the jeans and top I had worn that day. So I took out an over-sized t-shirt and a pair of baggy jammie pants, and put them on. Staring into the bathroom mirror with my hair dripping wet I thought "wow", and not in a good way. I decided that the least I could do was dry my hair with the hair dryer and not let it air dry as is my normal routine.
Even after that, I was not looking my best.
I thought about my husband working in his office down the hall and wondered if I should make more of an effort. Does he get tired of seeing me in my comfortable clothes? There was only one way to find out.
Trot trot trot down the hall.
I stepped into his office and said "Honey, will you please tell me LONG before you get tired of seeing me in oversized t-shirts and baggy pants?"
He looked at me - looked me up and down actually - and said "I will never get tired of seeing you. Period."
TWO DAYS LATER
When I published the above post I knew it wasn't finished, but I didn't know where else to go with it so I simply stopped. His comment speaks for itself, with no need for explanation or elaboration.
Later on that evening my daughter and I were contentedly watching tv. The house was calm and peaceful and life was good. And then my husband came home from work. He has been involved in the opening of a new business for almost a year now and things are coming down to the wire. He had spent the entire day putting out fires, crossing t's and dotting i's, and he was completely wound up when he barreled through the door.
I wanted him to relax. I wanted him to come home, collapse, and feel happy, safe, and loved. That is not what happened. He was manic and couldn't turn off, or least he couldn't turn off as quickly as I wanted him to. Within ten minutes of him walking in the door I was completely unglued.
Our daughter had casually mentioned that she was thinking of moving in with her cousin and my husband was totally against the idea. He barely let her finish her sentence before he was all over her telling her what a poor idea it was because she could just stay with us as long as she wants and she should save up her money and they might get in a fight and then what and on and on and on. I reacted to his immediate negative reaction and we blew up from there.
Happy scene of domestic bliss.
As much as my husband is the man of wonderful loving words, he is also the guy who fixes things. He had spent all day giving orders and solving problems, and it is completely unreasonable to think he can simply turn that off once he walks in the door.
When all I focus on is that part of him - the manager - I get triggered and fight with him. I wish that in the heat of the moment I would take a breath and remember the parts of him that I love. If I were to do that, there would be far fewer heats of the moment. I don't like getting upset like that. I really don't like that he came home from a challenging day at work and entered a challenging night at home.
If there's a secret to remembering the good in the moments when it's not so good, I'd like to know it. Fortunately in quiet moments like this I can edit my husband and remember the words of love to the exclusion of all else.
I think that is how we've stayed together so long. He edits out my over-sized t-shirts and baggy pants, and I edit out his manager mode.
TWO DAYS LATER
When I published the above post I knew it wasn't finished, but I didn't know where else to go with it so I simply stopped. His comment speaks for itself, with no need for explanation or elaboration.
Later on that evening my daughter and I were contentedly watching tv. The house was calm and peaceful and life was good. And then my husband came home from work. He has been involved in the opening of a new business for almost a year now and things are coming down to the wire. He had spent the entire day putting out fires, crossing t's and dotting i's, and he was completely wound up when he barreled through the door.
I wanted him to relax. I wanted him to come home, collapse, and feel happy, safe, and loved. That is not what happened. He was manic and couldn't turn off, or least he couldn't turn off as quickly as I wanted him to. Within ten minutes of him walking in the door I was completely unglued.
Our daughter had casually mentioned that she was thinking of moving in with her cousin and my husband was totally against the idea. He barely let her finish her sentence before he was all over her telling her what a poor idea it was because she could just stay with us as long as she wants and she should save up her money and they might get in a fight and then what and on and on and on. I reacted to his immediate negative reaction and we blew up from there.
Happy scene of domestic bliss.
As much as my husband is the man of wonderful loving words, he is also the guy who fixes things. He had spent all day giving orders and solving problems, and it is completely unreasonable to think he can simply turn that off once he walks in the door.
When all I focus on is that part of him - the manager - I get triggered and fight with him. I wish that in the heat of the moment I would take a breath and remember the parts of him that I love. If I were to do that, there would be far fewer heats of the moment. I don't like getting upset like that. I really don't like that he came home from a challenging day at work and entered a challenging night at home.
If there's a secret to remembering the good in the moments when it's not so good, I'd like to know it. Fortunately in quiet moments like this I can edit my husband and remember the words of love to the exclusion of all else.
I think that is how we've stayed together so long. He edits out my over-sized t-shirts and baggy pants, and I edit out his manager mode.
No comments:
Post a Comment