before the baby woke up
This week I am learning to own the consequences of my own choices. All this came from one of the epic discussion/debate/fights that Jim and I have most Saturday mornings. I don’t know what it is about Saturday mornings, but that is when they usually happen. Saturday mornings, or when we’re in the car and driving near Mound Road in Warren. Who knows?
This weekend, our discussion/debate/fight was about how I can never accept criticism without then turning it around and telling him what he’s done wrong. I don’t know how that spawned the following realization, but it did – that it is NOT my husband’s fault after all! Whatever it is, is not his fault.
I have my own alarm clock. It is not my husband’s fault if I don’t wake up in the morning to write. I can wake myself up. I can make my own coffee, carry my own grocery bags and open my own doors. Just because he buys cheesecake doesn’t mean I have to eat it, although most likely, I will decide to eat it anyway. I can drive my own car, and as much as I enjoy my husband’s company, I can go out on my own sometimes too.
I hear a Pull-ups commercial in my head singing I’m a big girl now!
It’s not that I don’t appreciate the things he does for me, but somewhere in these past five years, I have stopped doing things for myself. I have taken what I wanted from feminism and but left the challenging parts.
So this week I have been setting my own alarm for 5:45. I hit the snooze button twice before resetting it for 6:30, and hit the snooze button one more time before I woke up, which was entirely my decision.
But in this brilliant self-accountability adventure, I have discovered that the earlier I wake up, the earlier Dylan wakes up! It’s maddening! Just as soon as I’ve settled down with some coffee, and even think about working on something, he’s awake!
I swear I am being perfectly quiet, but I think he senses our awakeness and wants to join in. Either that, or it’s both of us hitting our snooze buttons for an hour straight 😉