There is such a thing as being a little too honest. I am not talking about answering the age old question "Do I look fat in this?" with an enthusiastic "YES", although that too would be categorized as too honest. I mean, it isn't always okay to tell people what you need from them. Case in point: The hubs had a bad day at work on Friday. He came home hours late and was in a terrible "poor me" mood. I welcomed him home with a smile and big hug and promptly asked him to leave work and work.
I didn't mention that I would have appreciated a call, I mean come on, over two hours late! I didn't mention that it was date night and I was worried he'd miss it. I didn't mention that I had wanted to dress up, but now there was no time. I didn't mention that I wanted to have fun and he was ruining it with a sulky crappy attitude. Nor did I mention that I'd probably have to endure a day and a half of a razor burned bikini line just so I could be in "date night shape" tonight. No, I just asked him to be home, fully home.
Over the course of the weekend I explained to him a few fears of him traveling so much. He didn't exactly connect the two dots. But basically I am fearful that at some point life will be easier when he is away. That doesn't mean it is, it doesn't mean I want that to happen, it doesn't mean it will or is starting to happen. I just wonder; at what point will he feel that the problems associated his job here in VA aren't worth the extra effort? When will he start taking on more trips just to escape it. At what point will C and I just be so far into our own schedules and events that we won't be able to plan around his trips anymore? Already his return flights are just a normal day - off to the air port to pick up daddy - you can play after... To be clear, I don't think my husband would think these things, I don't necessarily think these things. I just have the little itch in the back of my brain that has been posing these what if questions.
To connect the dots for my future self: He hates work here. He says he doesn't but every time he talks about it, it is in a negative light. He is miserable when he comes home, goes to bed, and wakes up. When he is away at work he seems happier and less stressed. And some times I feel like I don't fit into the equation.
To top it off, today we were eating lunch and I asked him what was wrong and he said he was still worried about work. I suggested he call his boss and talk to her. I said, "She probably has some good insight and can help you out." He totally blew off the idea saying she'd be there tomorrow. Fine. Be. That. Way. This is precisely why I didn't want to hear about it. My advise doesn't count. My insight isn't needed or relative to what ever the hell he does as a job. All I know is he works with a group of screwed up ladies and a jaded management team. But most importantly - none of it helps him. None of it.
But you know what would help me? If we could pretend to be normal for just a few more days before you have to leave again. If for just a few more hours we could not talk about your job. If for just a weekend we could live and celebrate the time we have. I was mad. Really mad. Everything always goes back to his work. He doesn't get it. I was open and honest and he just ignored me. Saying today that "I'll just pretend nothing happened like I have all weekend, I just shouldn't have mentioned it." You know what buddy: FUCK YOU! Well, that is what I was thinking anyway. Instead I shot back with, well I asked, so stop being a martyr. Then C came back in the room with shorts on. I sent him back upstairs to get pants on, like I asked him the first time. S was asking why or something to that fact and I was basically seeing red at this point and yelled "Because I am taking him to the mall to buy you a birthday gift and leaving you here to sulk!"
And that was that. I feel like I was just too honest. That maybe if I just let him spill all the details of whatever took place, he'd feel better. But I couldn't handle his bad day. I didn't want to be a pissy housewife who was bent because her husband was late (two days in a row). I didn't want to be upset because when he finally did come home he was upset. I didn't want to think about him hating parts of his job, a job that takes him away two to three weeks a month. I just wanted to put the day behind us and start our weekend. Well, date night was fine, we had a nice time at the movies; Saturday we went out for lunch and to a few stores, it was all nice too, but slightly clouded by a smoke screen.
So now it is Sunday night; C and I went to the mall and to a few stores. We bought S some good b-day gifts and had a little fun wondering through all the Christmas stuff. Now the boys are playing video games and seem to be having a good time. And me, well, the bikini line is a little itchy. Should have just left it 'a-la-natural', not like it got any attention anyway.