There is at least one point in my day when, if Nick were to walk in the house unexpectedly, he would promptly turn right around and never come back.
Just picture something on the stove boiling over, the kitchen counter covered with random jars, containers, sippy cups and probably some sort of human excrement, kids organizing dog fights in the living room, a goat in the bathroom and me in a corner somewhere reciting the lord’s prayer in the fetal position.
I do my best to shield him from the insanity because I don’t want him to think I’m totally incompetent. I mean, I’m not serving up a steaming pot roast in pearls and heels every night, but I figure the less he knows about what actually goes on here while he’s at work, the better. I just try to have the house back in one piece by the time he gets home.
He only gets between 2-4 days off a month, and usually we have a bunch of stuff planned on his weekends off. This past weekend, however, we were both super tired and just decided to take it easy around the house.
Which sort of gave me the same feeling I got when I was in sales and a big district manager would come to town for a couple of days and I had to pretend like I was actually working. I had the urge to narrate my every move, every thought, so he would truly appreciate the job I do for 13 hours a day, often 7 days a week.
It was really interesting to hear some of his observations and comments throughout the weekend, because I realized how far removed he is from the trenches. Sure, he’ll frequently take the kids to the park or the mall for a few hours to give me a break, but it’s a whole different ball game when you’re attached to them at the hip.
I made some mental notes of his commentary as a relative outsider, which gave me some perspective on my own life. I thought many of you could relate.
“Why are they up so early on a Saturday? Is it even 6:00 yet? How do we get them to sleep in?”
“Do you think the kids just want to lay around and watch house flipping shows all morning?”
“Why don’t the kids just want to lay around and watch house flipping shows all morning?”
“You let them paint right there? With their hands? Right there on the dining room table? It would probably be better if I went into the other room for this.”
“So basically a day with the kids is like one long, continuous feeding.”
“No, I don’t want to go to a story hour at the history museum. That sounds awful.”
“When is this story hour over? It’s awful.”
“Are all those ingredients for the same dinner? You just throw them all in the crock pot together and it’s edible? Interesting. No no… it sounds delicious.”
“Hey, want to call the Rodemanns and see if they want to go out to dinner?”
“I can see why someone needs a hobby like blogging. This is one of the longest days of my life.”
Given the urgency Nick left for work on Monday morning, I don’t think I have to worry about my job security any time soon.