Two days ago I wrote out a whole post centering around an argument I had with Dan.
Something to know about me is that I cannot let things go when I’m pregnant/stoned/sober, because there is nothing to fog up my head to make me forget, or at least, see it in a more optimistic light. It just sits there like a piece of meat marinating.
I don’t think I’m going to post my down-the-rabbit hole version, but I will give an abbreviated one. Yes, this is actually the shorter version.
Another Pleasant Valley Sunday
Dan and I take turns getting up with Theo on weekdays. On weekends I get Saturday and he gets Sunday. When he’s away for work, which is fairly often, it’s on me.
So Sunday mornings are my time. I’d like them to be uninterrupted, but Dan always find the need to bother me about something.
Last Sunday, Theo was screaming, I don’t know why. This doesn’t normally happen in the morning. I put on my headphones with my newly downloaded, previously mentioned app with ocean wave sounds.
Dan came in the room – a room that is currently my space, which I will lose when Baby #2 comes, he has his own space in the basement that he is not losing – and scared the crap out of me. Partially because I think every week I might actually get left alone, but mostly because of the headphones. I pretty much screamed at him. I screamed at him.
He wanted to know where the wipes were because we had run out of them in the living room.
Never Off Duty
There were not wipes in the living room where they normally are. There were wipes in two other locations: in Theo’s room (in two spots in there, actually) and in the diaper bag in the kitchen.
After taking some time to think about it, the next day I broached the topic again. I presented what I thought was a logical argument – I would like my few hours to myself on Sunday morning, you get days at a time off duty when you’re out of town.
And, what I thought was a fair proposal: please take a moment to think about the question before you come to me. If you decide you still need to ask it, I promise to answer calmly.
It did not go well guys. Nope. Not at all. When at some point I started crying about how moms never go off duty even though dads do I was told I was “playing the victim card.”
Later, he told me that no parents ever really go off duty, dads included.
- The whole thing was my fault to begin with because I was the one who didn’t replace the wipes in the living room.*
- If the situation was reversed he would never explode at me for asking him a question.**
- However. The wipes that were 15 feet from him in the kitchen were not acknowledged or admitted to.
- Extra wipes used to be stored in the basement, but now they’re in Theo’s room, and why am I always moving things so he can’t find them.
- He did think about the question before coming to me, a lot, knew I would be pissed off, and thought it was worth it – that’s how important it was.
- Our son was lying there dirty, with a partially changed diaper, needing to be cleaned up, and this trumped my need for alone time.
*Not sure if this is true or not, but let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and say it is.
**This is definitely true.
Maybe I don’t deserve a few hours of alone time a week unless someone is bleeding or on fire. I don’t know. I really don’t.
Everything is Fine
I don’t want to be a victim. I want to be a bad ass lady who can handle the pregnancy emotions and hormones.
And yet, I can’t let this go. I’ve woken up the past three days in tears thinking about this.
I know. I know. I have to find a way to let it go.
Dan literally just got home after working an eleven hour day. We had an early gender prediction at the doctors appointment today, which was a big moment (potentially). It’s not a good time. Even if the stars were aligned I would probably get my ass handed to me again and I just can’t take that right now.
So I’m resolved to being like that dog in the meme, drinking coffee while being surrounded by fire. This is fine.
Dan asked me if I’m mad at him. I said no but that I can’t let some stuff go but I’m working through it. He seemed to accept that and I feel infinitely better that he noticed I was off. Maybe I can move forward from this without feeling the need to jump down his throat about baby wipes and privacy.
Also, a Theo update: He’s been hitting considerably less. I mean, much, much less. I no longer feel the need to ask the doctor for pregnancy safe anti anxiety meds.
I should be focusing on that instead of obsessing over one really stupid thing that has gone wrong lately.