Explosion in Three, Two, One . . .

Y’all – I did it up RIGHT last night. I mean to tell you, I had an explosion worthy of the name. Not sure where it came from or why – I thought I had been taking care of myself and getting enough “me” time and release valves to prevent this.

But WOW!

I came home from work and put together some dinner for M and me. It wasn’t hard or time consuming – I made a red sauce earlier in the week, so I heated it up and boiled some pasta and we had a nice meal. It was a chilly evening, so a delightful plate of spaghetti was perfect. We watched some of my favorite shows on TV and the evening was going great . . . until I went back upstairs.

All our married lives – 35 years – we’ve had the understanding that if one of us cooks, the other one cleans up after dinner. It’s always worked like a charm. M had been up to the kitchen several times since dinner and I foolishly thought he had – at least – made a start on the kitchen.

Nope.

Not only had he NOT touched the kitchen. He also put his dirty dinner plate in the sink, rather than putting it in the dishwasher. I know, I know . . . first world problem, for sure! But he has ALWAYS put his dishes in the dishwasher.

I didn’t say anything to him about it. I cleaned up the kitchen while he took a shower.

Later, there was a stack of pictures in frames on the bed that needed to be put back on the dresser – all from another project he had been working on. Instead of taking 30 seconds to put them back where he found them, M took 20 seconds and stacked them in another room, where I could put them away later.

And THAT was the tipping point.

All the frustrations I’ve been feeling. All the hurt and the anger and – let’s admit it – jealousy of him spending every day at home while I’m slogging off to work came flying out. Along with a lot of tears, snot and raised voices. Isn’t THAT a pretty picture? I just let it all spew right out.

The good news? M really didn’t seem all that fazed by what I was saying or my level of upset. He did defend himself and say that he is doing A LOT while he’s at home during the day. He’s watching the dogs. I had to laugh at that – how much would I give to have “watching the dogs” be my level of responsibility every day?

Here are the ideas and phrases I need to let go of: we have always, he has always, he used to, we used to . . . none of that applies anymore and I’ve got to get that through my thick skull. I’ve also got to stop “martyring” through any project that needs to be done and start asking for the help I need/want. If I want him to help with the kitchen or putting pictures back where they belong, I’m going to have to SAY THE WORDS, not expect him to know and understand it.

Now, I need to remember all this next time I’m worn out, at the end of another busy day.

Easier said than done.