Hehe, I had to use the fun play on words for this one. Enjoy!
Ok, I know I complain (whine?) every once in a while about my husband not being empathetic enough to my emotions, not being “Spanko” enough, not appreciating Disney movies for their beauty and great story lines, and catchy lyrics and tunes. (I love kids’ movies. I happily admit it.)
Hubby doesn’t quite share my joyful exuberance when the evil step mother gets her just desserts, and the heroine wins (with or without a hero by her side); he doesn’t understand my need to cry when I emote, and he does not yet understand how to “stroke” me. (Hehe, not that kind of stroking.)
My ego and my emotions are very closely dependent on his affirmations.
For example, the other day, I greeted him at the door and proudly exclaimed (for the whole neighborhood to hear),
“Look honey, I vacuumed the welcome mat.”
(The really super awesomely mud caked mat outside our front door.)
He hugged me, took a quick look, and replied,
“I can’t tell.”
To be perfectly honest, the carpet still looked dirty, because of the clay and mud stains. But what he hadn’t seen was how dirty it was BEFORE I cleaned it.
Seriously, it hurt my feelings. 😦
He was supposed to gently stroke my ego, and tell me how proud he was of my efforts; and if he absolutely felt the need to give constructive criticism, it should have been something along the lines of,
“Oh, my sweet girl. You make me so happy. I’m so proud of you. Would you like a nice back massage and spanking later? Oh, and by the way my dear little domestic engineer, did you miss a few spots, or was it just extra dirty, and I can’t tell? Either way, I love you and appreciate you. Now, how about that good girl spanking?”
See, that would have been more in tune with my emotional needs at the time.
But no, I am married to a logical, intelligent, less emotive man who takes things at face value.
He’s my opposite.
LOL, it usually means I have a few hurt feelings, and he gets confused by my emotions.
But these past two weekends have been eye openers for me. Maybe I am married to the right man after all.
It all began with a little dirt…
Hubby decided to level the ground in our front yard. This means, he worked up a brilliant plan to dig out a bunch of dirt, place 4×4’s (or were they 4×6’s? I don’t know. They were big, long pieces of wood. J ), in the dirt, making a square around our tree, hammer them down into some sort of concrete dirt, and then fill everything back in with dirt and mulch.
He measured and cut, and dug, and used a cool little thing on a rope that told us how far off the levelling was, based on where the cute bubble landed. He even explained the whole engineering process to me.
“Bleh, bleh, back face… higher by 12 inches to accommodate the 2 inches in the front… bleh bleh, dig… bleh bleh… make it all even.”
I thought I was in a Charlie Brown show. Wah wah, wah…
After ten minutes of him trying to explain the overall process to me, with me still not getting it, I finally told him where he was going wrong.
I am not a long term visualizer. I can’t just see things out of nothing. I am more of a recognizer than a re-caller, and I don’t understand mechanical or engineering terms.
“Just put me to work. Tell me what to do – exactly how you want it done, and I will happily do it. But please don’t explain the process to me. I won’t get it until it is done,” I told him.
So he put me to work. I dug dirt, held the bubble measuring thingy, and told him when it was off; I hauled bags of mulch; I stained the wood.
I even got tools for him – after he specifically told me which ones.
FYI, the circular saw with the GREEN handle is much different than the round looking saw that is attached to a huge piece of heavy metal.
(Like I would have known that. Hehe. They were both round!)
It took us two long weekends. But we did it, and I actually enjoyed it.
I preferred to submit to his direction. Heaven knows what I would have done if left to my own devices.
The reason I am bringing all of this up, is because during our fun, dirty weekend together, I also got a chance to watch the neighbor’s husband do some yard work.
He complained the whole time, about wanting a condo, washed his hands every few minutes, and here’s the funniest part.
He squealed and backed away when I offered to show him the new worms and caterpillar his daughter had dug up while playing in the dirt with me and my daughters.
I thought it was hilarious when he almost turned green and bolted for his house.
But hubby swatted me on the booty, and quietly reminded me,
“Not everyone enjoys the outdoors”.
“All husbands are different, but will attempt to give their wives what they want and need.”
I retorted,” I bet HE would tell me how clean the welcome mat looked.”
Hubby agreed, and also pointed out that neighbor hubby would probably hire someone to do the landscaping.
“But I wanted to help,” I whined. “I like getting dirty! I like it when you tell me what to…”
This led me to my final realization.
I can’t always have it both ways.
I still need emotional affirmation and support. But if it comes down to a choice between
flowery words of empathy and love
manual labor, getting dirty, and Alpha man taking charge…
I’ll take the Alpha man.
Besides, I can still go to my girlfriends for emotional stroking.
Here’s the newly landscaped tree.