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When I get emotional, I get really emotional.  Everything upsets me.  Sheets crooked on the bed upsets me.  The presice towel I wanted being dirty upsets me.  Stumbling over a kids toy upsets me.  I literally cry over spilled milk.  It takes a few days to get it out of my system.  I suppose because I'm so busy dismissing whatever was wrong in the first place and stifling the tears that I'm never able to really flush it all out. 

Now that I've gotten myself together from the last upset, I can reflect back on the last few days.  I think hubby may have read the last letter again.  Perhaps then he went back and read the real one from a month or two ago whenever it was.

Some things happened since the weekend pitiful attempt at talking that are really out of the norm for us.

I don't manage time well.  I can't think of a single instance where I've ever managed my time well.  Then enter the kids into the picture.  It takes at least 30 minutes to peacefully transition the kids from playing to the car.  It's partially them but they're young and it's how it goes. A lot of it is me.  I forgot to tell them to put swimsuits on until it's time to leave.  I forget to pack snack until after the swimsuits are on.  I put the sunscreen somewhere, where?  Oh, yeah, we're doing something right after so grab dry clothes and a hairbrush.  Start shouting about how they're making us late again.  Great, now one has lost half the lesson while the other gets the full lesson after.  I usually don't get caught in my many mom of the year moments.  Hubby has been around a lot of afternoons with the work schedule, and so witnesses this daily commotion since we started swim lessons at the beginning of June.

Yesterday, he told me he is in charge of the show.  Huh?  Not sure how this is going to play out.  He might just do everything because I'm incompetent or he might motivate me to get moving sooner.  It was the words, yes, but more than anything, it felt good to have him recognize there's a problem and help find a way to make this better.  Yeah, there's the obvious answer of me just doing it right.  I struggle with it horribly.

Another thing, yesterday I noticed he waited for me to take care of his dinner stuff at his parents' house.  It's a lot of people so they do buffet style between kitchen and dining room.  I kept his drink full, usually he'd grab the glass as I reached for it.  I asked if he needed anything, usually he'd say no and get it himself, this time he told me what he wanted.  He allowed me to take his plates, usually he'd jump up before I could.  Sounds stupid, I suppose, that I want to do this for him.  And stupid, I suppose, for him to not do these things himself.  I just like doing it.  I want to, almost need to.  And for the first time, I was allowed to.  Not just one thing, but all of it.

The last two nights we've talked in bed for a few minutes.  Last night, it was work talk.  I (gasp) bluntly told him I didn't want to talk about work.  Don't know why it's so hard for me to just say what I do or don't want!  So then we talked about baseball stats which I don't care about but gotta give credit for a non-work conversation.  He's not a baseball fan exactly but our university's team had been playing extremely well lately and it turned him into a mini fan. 

And the icing on our extremely sloooowwwly baking cake... something happened in bed after talking that was new and most definitely what I'd been wanting to at least try.   In a nutshell, I just wanted him to try not being so nice.  Just try.  And he did.  And I liked it :-)
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Posted by: Tukiyooo Progress perhaps? Updated at : 8:23 AM
Wednesday, June 26, 2013

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