Before I left for work on Friday I told my husband I needed his help and asked him to fold the towels and put the lights on the Christmas tree and decorate it (it’s a small tree). I didn’t think I was asking too much. He took my step daughter to get her wisdom teeth pulled that morning so they would be at the our house all day while she recovered. I thought decorating the tree (even if she laid on the couch and told him where to put each ornament) together would be a bonding time for them. With my husband being on the road and my step daughter working most weekends, they don’t get to spend a lot of time together. I thought they could laugh and talk about the hand made ornaments as they decorated.
Silly me. Why I thought the tree would be decorated or even the lights be on the tree when I arrived home is beyond me. I should have known it wouldn’t be. The towels for folded and the laundry from the washer was in the dryer. He does get credit for that. You know why he didn’t put up the lights? Because I brought the outside bin of lights upstairs. I thought they were in that bin. Shoot me. I have all of the Christmas bins in one spot in the basement. Did he go look? No. Did he call or text me when I was on break or lunch to ask where the lights were? No. Did he improvise and put the garage lights on the tree? (They are indoor/outdoor lights) No. Did he offer to help me look in the basement when I got home? No. Did he stay up to help me put the lights on the tree when I got home? No. I did end up using the garage lights because I couldn’t find the other ones. When I got home at 10:30 I did the dishes, finished his laundry and did a load of my pinks, and put the lights on the tree. I went to bed at 1:30 a.m. He went to bed at midnight after the movie he was watching was over.
And to top it off, he tells me yesterday that his truck is ready to be picked up at the repair shop and that I should take my brother to go pick it up. What? Are you serious? You can’t help me with the Christmas tree, but I’m suppose to help you. I calmly told him that I would be busy decorating the tree and that I wouldn’t have time. What does he expect? I’m suppose to help him, but he doesn’t have help to me. Bullshit. He called his sister to help him.
And now he was one pissed off wife to deal with.
Look, I’m really not trying to bash my husband. He really is good to me. I love him and am happily married….Until moments like this where he takes me for granted and doesn’t value me or my time and I get pissed. I asked him for help because I really needed help because I am working 55 hours a week and it’s Christmas. I have a lot of things on my plate and the thing that grinds me is that he knows this and he still couldn’t do the tree. The thing is is that everything that he needed was in the living room. I normally don’t ask for help. Being a truckers wife you get used to doing things by yourself, but when I ask him for help I need help. He better help. He should help. He needs to help.
I need your help today. No. I’m not joking. What do those words mean? Before menopause I wouldn’t have asked for help. I just would have done it myself. But now? Now is a different story. It seems the deeper I get into menopause the more aware I become of my needs and how they sometimes aren’t met. I know that’s my fault because I didn’t express them before, but I’m expressing them now and sometimes it’s not a pretty site. I want to write. I want/need time to be creative. What I realized since Friday is that I need him to help me more around the house so I have more time to be creative. I’m not asking him to cook me a 10 course meal when he’s home, but a little more help would be nice. For example, when you take the last roll toilet paper from the cabinet walk downstairs, grab a pack and fill up the cabinet instead of leaving me without toilet paper when I need it the most or when the blue bag garbage can under the kitchen sink is full, put in a new bag (the blue bags are right next to the garbage can) and take the bag out to the garage instead of leaving the recyclables on the counter because the bag is full or when he sees the carpet needs to vacuumed for whatever reason just vacuum it instead of telling me it needs to be vacuumed. I don’t think it’s asking too much. Is it??!!
I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I’m not the maid either. In the past I didn’t say anything because deep down I was afraid that he would leave if I spoke up (that was my own insecurities talking). Now, I don’t care. I say what I feel (respectfully, not hurtful) and if he doesn’t like it tough crap. I’m fully capable of making it on my own. If standing up for myself and what I need and want is being a bitch then I am a bitch. I just can’t keep quiet anymore.
It’s Sunday and the tree still isn’t decorated. I bought new ornaments for the tree, but haven’t put them on yet. I’m debating. I would love to put the tree back in the box and put it in the basement, but for some reason I feel my inner child wants/needs the tree up and decorated. For the last couple of years I haven’t put up a tree, but this year I actually wanted to put up a tree. My husband asked me if I fell and hit my head. After I post this I will go and put the ornaments on the tree. And finish wrapping presents.
What I learned from this is that I want my thoughts, feelings and time to be validated and appreciated. These things are important to me. He needs to understand that I have other things to do than to cater to his needs and wants. I want to cater to my own. Our relationship is changing. It’s scary, but I think it’s good because I’m allowing more of myself to the surface. I’m allowing me to be me. Finally.
Navigating through these menopausal waters is hard as hell sometimes.