Last night, I wanted to continue working through my drawing book. The assignment was to find a sports photograph in your daily newspaper (!!!) and draw it using negative space to define the shape.
It doesn't really matter what the assignment was. The point is that drawing is an activity that I can enjoy before bed. I can get totally sucked into drawing, but, unlike Buzz Feed which I also enjoy and also get sucked into, drawing isn't media crack. It's good for me.
A few minutes into my drawing, Hub came out to ask if I wanted to help him run some sort of cable in the basement.
"No thanks." I answered.
He just sat there and looked at me and waiting for me to hop to. Finally he realized that I really meant it and wasn't just making a sarcastic joke, and he went to run the cable himself.
***
After we climbed into bed that night, Hub said, "I wish that you knew Rolfing."
Though it was a perfectly innocent statement, my blood instantly boiled. Rolfing is like a cross between massage and yoga, only yoga that somebody else does to you so that you don't have to do it for yourself. (Which, incidentally, isn't actually yoga. Just poses.)
I wanted to bite his head right off of his shoulders. "Oh, so you wish that I knew rolfing so that you could come home and I could do an hour of yoga for you before bed!? Has it ever occurred to you that I might like to do an hour of yoga on MY OWN BODY at some point this year? Have you ever thought that, if you want a massage so badly maybe I want one too, and you could offer one up first before acting like it is my job to rub your back? Do you not appreciate that you get to escape from work at lunch time EVERY DAY to exercise, but I have to fit in whatever I can manage with a stroller and two children -- which means I get no exercise. Don't you realize the freedom that you have?"
But I didn't say any of this, because I have been reading my marriage books, and, according to experts, yelling at your husband isn't the best thing to do. The experts advocate for a gentle entry instead. Also known as beating around the bush.
So instead of ruining my marriage, I left a long pause, chose my words carefully, and said,
"You know, I have spent almost every waking moment of today, and of every day this summer, attending to someone else's needs first. Every day there comes this point where I have to pee -- I mean I really, REALLY have to pee -- and I can't do it right away, because Lucia needs something NOW, or Elsie has to pee first and it will be some sort of travesty if I send her to the other bathroom. I just have to hold it. And every day there comes the hungry time. The HANGRY time. And I am so damn hungry I just want to scream and cry. But so is Elsie. Or maybe Lucia needs to nurse. And so even though I have these very specific needs, I have to set them aside and take care of the girls first. Every day this happens, and it's exhausting. I love them so much, and I knew what I was getting into when I had kids, but I miss my freedom. I miss my time for myself. Sometimes I wish that someone would just come along and take care of me."
I wonder if he got the message. I am all nurtured out.
No comments:
Post a Comment