don’t judge me…i blame the hormones.
Back in February, during my first IVF cycle, Greg made me mad.
So mad that I went to bed angry, woke up early the next morning, went to the gym, complained about him to my friend Teasha and came home mad.
Upon return, Oscar and Greg were still sleeping, so I positioned myself in the living room chair and I wrote a list. A very long list.
I was frustrated. I wrote down everything that I do and everything I have to think and worry about for our house, for this family and for work. I wrote things like make dinner, pay bills, do the grocery shopping. In included that I find time to fit in work and take care of Oscar. I constantly plan ahead and consider how much time it will take so we are not late getting somewhere. I make the plans for our date night so Greg and I have time together. And when I notice that Oscar’s jeans are suddenly hovering way above his ankles, I know it is time to clean out his dresser and consider everything else that doesn’t fit the kid anymore. Once that is decided, I am the one packing it up taking it to the consignment shop. You know, stuff like that.
So I wrote a list.
A long list.
On one side it read, “What Kara Does." On the other side I wrote, "What Greg Does.”
Yep, I went there.
The Kara list was long. VERY long.
The Greg list said: Go to work. Look after Oscar. Take the garbage out
Did I mention I was mad?
So I left that list in the kitchen, near the coffee (because I failed to include that he makes us coffee every morning) and I sat festering in my anger, in the living room, until he woke up. When he finally did, I gave him the cold shoulder and he went into the kitchen. Then he noticed the note. He quietly made coffee and despite my stubbornness, handed me a warm cup and said, “I understand that there is some imbalance here.” We both smiled.
That was all it took.
I told Greg that I know he does a lot for us and I am incredibly grateful. What he doesn’t realize it the amount of THINGS that are running through my head. There are so many things I think and worry about and I just need to share the burden a little. Of course, he was more than willing. Some may argue this, but I think the list helped. It gave me a chance to tell him what was on my mind and as ridiculous as some of them are, it was exactly why I needed to share it with him. He can remind me that I am being ridiculous or at least help prioritize. :)
Last night, a similar instance occurred. I got mad again. Really mad. As the evening drew near, I finished putting together dinner and Oscar and I began his homework. It was perfect. It was 6:00, Greg would be home anytime and we would have a Norman Rockwell kind of evening. Then I got the phone call. It was Greg. “I am in the West Hills, far, far, far, far, far away (okay, he didn’t say the "far” part) and my tire is flat and my bike chain is broken. Can you come get me?“