Aim for the stars.
Never settle for less than the best.
Set your sights high girl.
These female empowerment mantras are slowly killing my marriage.
Allow me to back up just a titch here: Perhaps my marriage isn’t dying persay, but the high expectations that I have placed upon my spouse are definitely not helping matters around here. You see when it comes to domesticity I am a champion. I can chop veggies, help with homework, pack lunches and talk on the phone all at the same time. I swear I can fold laundry with my toes while hot gluing school projects together and breaking up a sister fight all at once. In the span of one hour I can run approximately twelve errands on opposing sides of town. Having four young kids and a mountain of household chores and daily tasks has forced me to become the ultimate multi-tasker. This here is my jam, my talent, and apparently my marital curse.
My husband, as good of a father as he may be, will never be the badass multi-tasking parent that I have become and it annoys me. In turn I annoy him. Somewhere down the line I have created a beast…the beast is me. I expect myself to run ragged attending to daily life, and dammit I expect the same of him. If I can do it why can’t he?
Because he simply can’t. And the why isn’t even relevant or important.
What is important is recognizing (once and for all) that he is who he is and he is going to do things differently than I. When he cooks dinner that is exactly what he is doing. In fact that is what I asked of him:
He does what he is asked (told,) so why am I perpetually pissed off all of the time? Well, when I cook dinner ninety-nine percent of the time I am alone with no adult assistance in sight. My dinner prep must always include homework help, packing for sports, doing dishes, wiping counters and making school lunches. Basically anything that might be done near within the kitchen vicinity is going into dinner prep. Then once in a blue moon my husband comes home are strewn about because like most normal people he plans to clean up the kitchen after dinner. Because my busy, multitasking mind does things in such an opposite manner to watch him take over makes me insane. How is he not cleaning as he goes? Really…is he mental?
No Kristin…you are.
The expectations I have set for myself and then set upon my partner will always make him look like less..
I have screwed him, and not in the way he would prefer to be screwed.
I ask him to pick up the playroom. He does just that. He doesn’t see the fight breaking out twelve feet away from him or the mess on the dining room table…because he is picking up the damn playroom just like I asked. All the while I am miffed because he is only doing one thing at once. Again my expectations can’t be met. I have set the bar so incredibly high that he needs a damn rocket ship to reach them. These unattainable expectations make me look like a perpetual bitch to him and to me he looks like a sloth wading through peanut butter.
This is not good folks. For years I saw the problem as his problem.