I’m telling on myself.
The story in my head is that I’m a committed, loving spouse who enjoys her husband and wants to spend time with him. Meaningful talks, spontaneous dates, uninterrupted time together - I tell myself I long for more loving connections with my husband.
Just not right now.
Maybe later. When I’ve finished this post. Or this book. Or maybe this bagel.
While I was writing this blog post today, my husband stopped home unexpectedly. I could see his car pull up through our kitchen window. My first reaction was joy! Yay, a surprise visit from my husband! What could be better?Unexpected time with my beloved without any children jockeying for our attention. Sounded like bliss. For a moment.
My husband rarely pops in from work unexpectedly. The last time he did, I assumed he’d lost his job. In the time it took for him to park and exit his car, I drafted a story in my head featuring our financial ruin and eventual homelessness. I expected him to emerge from his car with a box of belongings in his arms and a nearly undetectable droop (or possibly spring?) in his step. A logical assumption. Right?
Upon seeing his car this afternoon, my initial joy quickly (I’m talking split-second quickly) turned to annoyance. He’s going to mess up my plans! And I have important things to do, damn it!
Before he’d walked through the door, I’d decided he was going to want to talk, ask me stuff, find out how the girls’ field trip went this morning, blah/blah. Ugh, I thought to myself, I don’t have time for idle chitchat! Don’t f*** with my perfectly timed schedule. I have to pick up the girls from school in 30 minutes.
Then he came inside, announced that he was in a rush to get to a work meeting nearby. He didn’t have time to talk. Just to grab a folder he needed. And to pee.
Well, naturally, I was pissed. Why doesn’t he want to talk to me? Make time for me?
Don’t you wish I was your spouse? Sometimes my husband does.
Lucky for my hubby, I don’t limit my ambivalence only to him. I also have plenty of mothering ambivalence. Sometimes I miss my girls like crazy all day – right up until the moment they get home from school. Then, after a few minutes of joy and happy connection, I’m ready for them (or me) to be elsewhere. Ok, that feels too scary to admit. Does anyone in the entire mothering universe relate? Anyone reading this blog?
We’ve all heard that confession is good for the soul. Does anyone know if confession is also a cure for ambivalence? When I find out, I’ll let you know.