I recently had a truly groundbreaking conversation with my husband over one of the single, most frustrating occurrences in our marriage.
For the last 4 years, it has been a huge source of contention, disappointment, and definitely some heartbreak. It’s started more arguments than I care to admit, and has even been used as an apology if the cause has warranted it.
But I’m done. I’m done talking about it. I’m done asking, reminding, begging, pleading, and nagging. I’ve never wanted to be a nag – lest of all to my husband, but fewer things have driven me to the brink of insanity. It’s especially worse now that we’ve had a baby.
Me: Honey, will you remind me to take the garbage out this evening?
Hubs: Don’t you mean, ‘Don’t forget to take out the trash out?’
Me: No, my love. I don’t. I’d like to mean that, but then it wouldn’t get done, and instead of me nagging you and it still not getting done, I’m just going to do it.
Hubs: When have you nagged? You don’t nag. You haven’t even asked me once this week about the trash.
(Yeah, actually I did, but we’ll let that go)
Me: No, I haven’t, and that’s ok. Just please help me remember to take the trash out.
Hubs: So, you’re basically giving up on this.
Me: Yeah. This way, if I forget and it doesn’t get done, then it’s my fault.
Hubs: Am I supposed to feel better now?
Me: Honey, this isn’t about you. I can either think you’re a selfish man by never once taking out the trash when you say you will, or I can get off my butt and take out the trash. If this were a life or death issue, I’d hold out for more, but I’m just too tired to keep thinking about it. So, I’ll just do it.
He was hurt, but only for a little while. Ironically, I forgot to take it out last night after dinner. So, this morning after Little Boy woke up, I had Hubs hold him for a second while I grabbed and emptied all the trashcans, and ran outside to put the big trashcan to the curb. At the last bag, the garbage truck was starting down our street.
He tried to put up a fight. Honestly, I think he’s happy it’s not on his plate anymore, but felt bad that I was doing “one more thing.” And it is “one more thing” but it’s better than it being ONE MORE THING that I get hurt feelings about because I always do everything and he is so irresponsible blah blah blah blahhh!!!!
We’ve had more than one conversation about this topic. In fact, other than our finances and where to find the best school district, it’s the numero uno topic of conversation that turns into a serious debate. He always wants to do more, and I totally love and adore him for having a heart that wants to serve his wife.
But I just want him to pick up his socks off the living room floor.
He wants ways I can feel cherished, valued, and loved.
I want Him. To Pick. Up. His. (@$%ing socks. Off. The Living Room. Floor.
I’ll take out the trash.
I know the feminists that read this blog just made a kitten, and I’m ok with that. I will be the first to agree with all that read this that it isn’t a fair solution. But Life isn’t fair, and neither is Marriage. I hate taking out the trash. I’m not sure if it’s all the years that I was a custodian or what, but I dislike cleaning bathrooms, and taking out the trash. That’s seriously too freaking bad.
But I also love my marriage. And I know how much of this was me just having him do something because “it was a guy’s job” to do stuff like this. But if I waited for him to do it all the time, then our house would be condemned by now. I finally came to the conclusion:
I’m already doing this. What is to prevent me from continuing to do it – and let my husband off the freaking hook?!