Wednesday, November 16, 2011

I Need New Sabotage Methods, I'm Totally Losing My Game

My husband loves bread. He can devour an entire french loaf if given something to dip it in or spread upon it, no problem.  If I prepare a dinner with even the slightest bit of sauce, he'll almost immediately ask if we have any bread and proceed to use it as one of his utensils.  Loves it.

His favorite part is the "butt" of the bread.  Where as I am always digging out the middle of the bread loaf for the soft, melt in your mouth goodness, Alex loves the crunchy end.  He especially loves when the outside is a little overdone so the ends get extra crisp.  It's weird, but it's what he likes.

Last night, I hit a low point in my life.  It had been a chaotic two days of me over committing myself and not using the best of my time management skills.  Doctor's appointments, craigslist sales, dinner co-op, and bible study piled on top of regular kid pick ups and drop offs, tantrums, and laundry totally threw me over the edge. 

It is during these sorts of days that my lack of Monday-Friday spousal support feels excruciating.  I am normally pretty good at handling breakfast through bedtime solo every day, but on the really chaotic days I tend to have breakdowns where I feel sorry for myself, while simultaneously building a lot of anger toward my husband's inability to ever be here to take over even one small aspect of this parenting stuff during the week. 

It's not pretty.

It's possible that while making spaghetti and meatballs from scratch (not the noodles) for three families and trying to tell Cole that he was just going to have to figure out how to turn his pajamas right side out by himself because Mommy can't handle anything else that I started to cry and say, "why can't he just come home once during a night like this?  Why am I always doing this all alone?" 

Total pity party moment.  Oh it's so ugly and pathetic. 

(It's not even entirely true...Sue came and cleaned up most of the kitchen while I put Stella and Cole to bed and Alex ended up doing all the dishes after he got home later.  But let's not focus on that because it detracts from how sorry I was feeling for myself.)

After finishing the three meals though and getting everyone to bed, I was starving and totally depleted. I finally had a chance to pour myself a glass of wine and get my own dinner together, but I was still feeling frustrated and a bit angry towards Alex.  Though the wine helped, I still looked around for a way to ease my pain.

I saw the loaf of bread sitting on the island, waiting to be sliced.  His favorite thing. I immediately grabbed the bread knife and sawed off the butts of the bread...and put them on my plate.  I don't even like it, but I wanted it for the simple reason that if I ate it, Alex couldn't.

Mature?

Possibly not.

Passive aggressive?

In a pathetic, not particularly imaginative way, maybe.

I am not proud of what I did, but it did make me feel a little better and for that I have no regrets. 

When Alex got home though, I remembered I had already been pathetically passive aggressive with his lunch.  I had intentionally packed him egg salad, knowing full well that Tuesday is a meeting day and that nothing smells worse in a lunch than egg salad. It's delicious, but foul.

I remember actually giggling when I spread it over the bread that morning, thinking about what a horrible lunch to have on a day when you are around other people. I am so lame and apparently in need of more adult interaction and/or therapy.

So after he arrived home I asked him about his lunch and you know what he had the nerve to say to me?

"Oh yeah, it was good.  THANK YOU."

What an asshole!

Apparently he was really hungry around 9 am so he ate the egg salad then, and then because I had packed him enough food he had plenty to eat around lunch time too.  He was sincerely grateful.  He did mention that is smelled a lot, but only after my prompting and he didn't even mind! 

He totally messed up my sabotage!

Surely he would be disappointed when going for a slice of bread though.  I mean, spaghetti and meat balls is a meal begging for lots of crusty bread to go with it. 

Nope.  All he said was how great it was and then did all the dishes. 

Can you believe what a jerk he is? 

He figured out exactly what I was doing and decided to kill me with kindness. He didn't want to give me the satisfaction of seeing him upset and frustrated by how cruel I was being with the food because he is so tricky!

Or, he's always that nice about food and is eternally grateful that I prepare food for him and never, ever complains about it even if he is eating dinner at 10 pm because he's worked his ass of all day.

I hate it when he turns out to be a better person than I am.  It just makes my pathetic pity party look selfish and immature and above all else, ineffective.  I need a new strategy. 

What smells worse than egg salad?

8 comments:

January Dawn said...

I don't think you're pathetic. It's totally normal to have pity parties and cry and hate your husband when he's not there to help as much as you'd like/need/want. My husband's been away 3 weeks in the past 5 and I had a day on Monday where I was so miserable and hateful and I hated myself for it ... but I've come to the conclusion that it's okay to feel that way sometimes.

And anything with LOTS of raw onions is pretty bad although nothing is worse than egg salad.

Mel said...

May I suggest a nice liverwurst and onion sandwhich?

Girl, I have these pity parties, too. The Mister and I work opposite shifts and I wind up doing a whole lot of parenting all by myself. On bad days, I mentally add up the million and one ways in which I do more than he does. And he, too, is always the better person than I. Stupid supportive, caring husbands.

alanna rose said...

Tuna salad.

And I know exactly how you feel!

momnextdoor said...

Men are evil! It's plain and simple!

The Preppy Girl in Pink said...

Pity Parties are quite common where I live. Most of the husbands travel or work really long hours. A lot of the times, we just move from house to house so we are not alone and can support each other. It works out very well but on the nights when we can't support each other...we are right there with you with all of those sabbotage thoughts ;-)

Kimberly said...

What a jerk! Totally kidding. He sounds like a keeper!

Sometimes, passive-agressiveness is just what we need to survive. Is it kind? No. Is it necessary? Sometimes, I think yes.

Kelli @ RTSM said...

I hate when my hubby is a better person than me too! I have had quite a few pity parties for myself lately...it's been a rough week here!

Two Normal Moms said...

I'm having these pity parties a lot. After 10 years of my husband working from home, and being available any time I needed him, he's now in an office all day and not getting home until 7pm. It's a bit of an adjustment. Unlike you, however, I don't have little ones - just a teenager. Though sometimes a second parent is good with a teen!