That Pay It Forward movie is good. Helen Hunt always kicks ass.
So, anyway, the DH pouts. Constantly. I’m always worried about offending him and what revenge he will take. Usually he just ignores me for a while. I finally don’t care, which is progress. But what the heck kinda marriage is this? It’s like the impasse of poisoned-wine drinking on The Princess Bride. I mean, if he needs to tell me something, I wish he’d just spit it out. He’s LOADED with resentment. I must be a huge pain in the ass, but he can’t just break it to me.
I really think if he’d just talk, maybe share some emotions, he could get past it, maybe feel better. Maybe just tell me what he SEEMS to be saying – that I’m a pain in the ass. I could handle that better than the pouting.
I hate marriage and I don’t recommend it, especially if you are a passive aggressive male. If you like to pout, please don’t breed.
Y’all. I forgot how difficult it is to build anything with snow. I’m so exhausted! Mr. Buttons and I constructed a wall a foot tall and four feet long.
There’s an electric bill attached to our front door with a magnet. It belongs to our neighbor and it’s been there for three days. My husband got it out of our mailbox, and he has walked it over to the neighbor’s house three times but she’s not been home. He won’t put it in her mailbox because he says that would be a federal offense. I’m happy with myself for giving him space to solve a problem. He loathes confrontation, and it seems to me that it’s not very important to him that she gets her bill.
This is an important incident. It’s important to me. I have learned to stay in my own space, figuratively and literally. I can imagine my husband’s parents stepping in and taking care of the problem. They took care of everything. His mom always took the trash out for him because he would “forget”. She seems like one of those moms who doesn’t think any woman could love her son right or work hard enough to take care of everything and over function and fix everything and anticipate needs and read minds and figure everything out and deliver it on a silver platter. I have never yet met a mom who has expressed any concern about whether or not her son is loving his wife, making good decisions, and setting a good example for his children. I know of no such women. They must exist SOMEwhere…
Oh. I do know one. Me. But Mr. Buttons isn’t married yet. He better put his wife first and care about her needs and perspectives and experiences. I mean, if you’re already married, you might as well, right? And if you’re not married, it is better to stay single and serve God.
This weather is perfect for a walk. We live on a semi-circle that is populated by a few clans with the same last names and lots of wonderful country dogs. I normally walk about 4 miles, up to the graveyard and back. A pack of dogs follows me and brings me such joy my heart could burst. Sometimes they don’t get along and I get a good lesson in dog psychology.
barely slept because we have bed bugs. I got up at 3 and started cleaning, stripping the bed, and doing laundry. I emptied the bookshelf and got out the vacuum and an arsenal of poisons. The husband called in because he wants to stay home and snake the septic line since the toilet won’t flush. So, yeah, no brisk February walk today.
I went through heck when we had cats a few years back because they got fleas and I couldn’t get rid of them. The husband sat around depressed about it and did nothing. The cats were miserable. Fleas were everywhere. I finally decided to take the cats to the humane society. I didn’t know what else to do. It became obvious that our family cannot work as a team. And I usually have to make the hard calls and be the bitch, like dealing with bullies in the neighborhood or finally getting fed up with my dad. And my husband, who refused to even feed the cats, has the gall to look broken-hearted sometimes and say, “I miss the kitties.”
I just hope we can keep our son alive! Lol