I was talking to a coworker the other day -- she is from India. She asked me how things are going? I told her my life is strange.
Hubby works third shift -- He gets home from work a few minutes after I leave. He wakes up a few minutes before I put the kids to bed. Then leaves a few minutes after that. His job has required a lot of overtime -- good for the finances -- bad for the family. So -- we are like two ships that bump in the night.
Father-in-law -- and I sit up at night and talk about our day, he and I keep the house picked up, the dishes done, and the laundry pseudo caught up. He helps with homework and chasing three young'ns around.
Strange -- father-in-law and I are like a team. Husband and I are like "booty call."
My co-worker said her household is very similar, except it is the mother-in-law and it seems that sometimes you look at life and say we are just making it. Making the bills, making things work, just getting by and getting along.
Sad but true.
Third shift is hard. He feels like he is missing out on a lot of things, and as the "needy" female comes out in me, I feel neglected. The kids miss him, but have learned how to be quiet and do without him.
Again, sad but necessary.
If he is awakened by us, well, let's just say he is not a morning person -- he wakes up grumpy. So he's like this ogre coming out of its cave. We had an episode tonight where Ms. F was very tired, whiny, and well being a little girl. He yelled, told her to stop being whiny, started mimicking her. "Shut that damn shit up!!" I being mom -- jumped in and told him to STOP. I'm sorry but I do believe that kind of stuff IS mental abuse.
Later when he got up, I made it a point in the little time that we had to explain little girls to him -- here is how my speech to him went.
J****, I am not putting you down, demeaning you in any way or telling you this to make you feel bad about yourself (he accuses me of putting guilt trips on him, and yes, there is a lot of truth to that, I am good at that.) Have you ever been a little girl? Well, I was. Little boys when they are tired and have had a bad day, they grab their Tonka dump truck and their red fire engine and they bang them together and wreck them, they throw their ball up against the house, they knock down blocks -- they deal with it physically. Little girls, deal with it emotionally. Little girls = "sugar and spice and everything nice." Little boys = "snips and snails and puppy dog tails." When I was a little girl and had one of these days where I needed to just cry and let it out -- I didn't want Mama, because sorry to say, little girls take stuff out on Mama. When we need comforting, we want the big, strong, safe arms, and the low, comforting voice of our Daddy. I asked him to remember this and that the next time this happens - instead of yelling at her and making her cry harder and longer. Just get out of bed -- walk into her room and hug her, tell her you love her, and that Daddy is here. I've seen him comfort her this way before (when not so grumpy) and I know it works.
Believe me, there are no better hugs than Daddy hugs. Mom hugs are nice, but for a little girl, there's just something about Daddy's hugs.
On the sobriety front -- we had a drunken day last Tuesday. It was uneventful, Papaw dealt with him and he went to bed.
Ms. G turned six yesterday. Little Man is potty trained, night and day, so NO MORE DIAPERS.
So as far as an update goes -- we're just making it, just getting along. But hey -- that' okay, because as the song goes. "This world is not my home, I'm just a passing through, my treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue..."
Good night and God bless.
