Two days ago it was sunny and 84 degrees, today we are having snow flurries. Is mother nature going through the change?
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My spouse is in the midst of a nine day business trip. Bleh! In this economic climate, I’m not so blasé as to take job security for granted, but nine days is a bit extreme for his profession. I’m sure there are service wives out there thinking, “Nine days? Suck it up, sister! Nine days is nothing compared to a twelve month, (or longer) deployment.” And they would be correct, but I don’t miss him any less.
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In his absence, I completed numerous tedious tasks he will take for granted once he returns. Some of the tasks were important to me, most were important for us, all were thankless. I don’t need validation, but I find myself resenting the aspect of him that is praise-driven. Why is praise required for something you should be doing in the first place (picking up clothes off the floor, or cleaning dirty dishes?). Bleh, such is life.
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What compels us to pity strangers? I was shopping and noticed an older woman in the pet food aisle. She had a curvature of the upper spine common in women with osteoporosis and she was obsessing over cat treats, while wheeling around a thirty pound container of kitty litter. She could be perfectly content, yet I assumed she should be pitied because she represented what I don’t want for myself. Old. Arthritic. Alone. Crazy. Cat. Rancher.
We stayed in Chattanooga Friday night (well, Saturday morning if you’re being technical – got in at midnight, left later that morning) on our way up to Kansas City. I was glad that we stopped, so we could drive through the mountains during the following morning. Gorgeous. Clear, sunny, mild.
We’re driving back through tomorrow night. I’ll flash my brights and honk the horn at you on the way through.
My parents were not big on praise, nor were they specific when they did give it, as the so-called experts now recommend. I’ve known my MIL long enough to know that she was really tough (at least by my scale). So I don’t quite know why my husband and I turned out the way we did. He seems to be more like you, he would never need to be asked to do something, and if he does it, he does not want to be thanked. Even so, it’s a reflex I can’t inhibit. I thank him for everything, and I mention stuff I did, just so he’ll know I did it.
Old ladies always make my heart quiver, I never know why
I can’t believe you DARED to joke about the change, it’s no joking matter sistah!
My Mister will clean the kitchen/empty the diswasher/some dumb task every so often, and then come to me and tell me about it. Maybe i should get some gold stars for his forehead.
Bob, fortunately today’s snow melted at lunch. I hope you enjoyed the red buds and the dogwoods. They are very showy this year.
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De, my mother was stingy with praise as well. Maybe it isn’t a difference in how we were raised, as much as it is a difference in what we need as individuals? I just wish I didn’t resent his need to be appreciated.
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flutter, it’s hard to explain isn’t it? For me it’s a combination of pity and protectiveness.
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meno, I would never joke about the change. I am a very serious person. Yeah, definitely gold stars and a chart.