Friday, April 11, 2008

Old Trigger, New Day

Just when I'm about to be famous for my sudden appearance on Sandra Dodd's website, I have a relapse. Isn't that just the rub?

I'll blame it on my hormones, lest I blame it on Rob. Or, I'll blame it on the fact that I just posted "a day in the life" about how perfect my life is. That'll show me.

I've been rejiggering my hormone therapy a bit, unbeknownst to my doctor. When certain side effects crop up I do some reading and tweaking, even when he insists there is no correlation. Ya well, I've had enough adult acne to last me a lifetime, thank you very much, so I'm going to fuss with my dosages. Vanity wins. It's been a few weeks since I dickered with it, and so far the results have been positive. Last night I looked at the bottle of DHEA I've been skipping. Apparently, just looking at the bottle was enough to cause me to wake up in a pool of sweat 5 hours later.

But this morning I was on a mission. My house is a wreck since I've been unwell for so long, so after rising at 5:50 - that's a.m. people - to get Brady off to school (urgh, UG, that is an ungodly hour), I got busy. I cleaned out the van which was so cluttered you could lose small children in there. My nephew has been safely returned to his mama, you'll be pleased to know, having survived on shriveled half-sandwiches and ketchup packets found under the bench seat. (Kidding.) I unloaded the dishwasher and reloaded it with the dirty dishes from the over-flowing sink. (Don't you hate it when you can fill the dishwasher as soon as it's emptied?) I did 3 loads of laundry, actually folding and putting away the clothes as they came out of the dryer. (I know! It's gotta be the wonky hormones.) And it was just as I was done scrubbing the sink and toilet in the boys' bathroom that Rob finally dragged his arse out of bed came downstairs, ready to leave for work. It was only 7:55 at this point, mind you, and I was feeling mighty smitten with myself for being so productive.

I stopped my toilet-scrubbing and washed my hands and caught up with Rob in the laundry room to give him a kiss good-bye. (I'm a really doting wife like that. Well, today anyway.) And that's when he said, playfully, "Come here."


I followed him into the kitchen where he made a slightly-mocking, passive-aggressive display of turning off the light I'd left on. "Do you see a difference in how well you can see if the light is on or off? I can't."

So I began a thoughtful reply, which went something like, "Well whine whine I'd turned it on earlier snark moan excuse-growl-excuse when it was still dark outside pout rant snarl and besides you should duck now I've been BUSY WASHING TOILETS AND DOING LAUNDRY seriously, run, run fast all morning and rage-whine-excuse-pout-choke-suffocate-xidurjsleuf-soeurfeiai-xryihezafhpe."

"I'm just concerned about global warming," Rob was quick to offer, amused at my defensiveness, a remark that would normally make me swell with pride that I'd married such a conscientious, environmentally-concerned man.

Not this time. This time I swelled instead with rage and excuses and snarky retorts and ugly words like "Nevermind that I was just cleaning YOUR pee off the toilet." I know. I'm amazed at my lack of maturity too. "And nevermind that I just picked up SIX PAIR of YOUR dirty underwear when there were not one, but TWO, clothes baskets 2 inches away."

"So stop yelling at me," I continued.

"I'm NOT yelling at you," he laughed.

It is an unspoken rule in our house, the elephant in the room if you will, that I'm overly sensitive, easily offended, unnecessarily defensive always right, so I just couldn't leave well enough alone.

Rob left. I sent him a text. It said something like, "accusation accusation defensive-whine accusation so there what up now" and ended with one of my pet names for him, "Dingleberry," the definition of which is quite unflattering, if not funny.

His reply text? "You are a great wife and mother."

Sometimes the best defense is a perfectly-timed compliment.

The man ain't as dumb as he looks, folks.

(I'm evil. I know this.)

It's the hormones. It's got to be the hormones.



9 comments:

Jackie said...

Poof!! Your neatly constructed near-perfect persona just went up in smoke. And suddenly there are no comments!!?? Dang, maybe you did scare 'em away.

But not me, sis. Nah...to me your still pretty dern perfect. Snarky-ness 'n all. And really, how many people can truly be cheerful after wiping up a urine-splattered toilet seat? Blah.

But, Rob...!! Haven't I warned him time and time again not to even look at you, let alone talk to you in the early morning hours?? Gees...he should know better!!

Ducking, just in case...
Jackie

Maria said...

Coming from someone who just cleaned the entire house getting ready for company and woke up at 6 AM(!) several times this week, heck I SO get how you may have wanted to say "I have done more in the hours you were sleeping, BUDDY, than...than..."well, I would've come up with something. And Dingleberry. Ya, you WERE upset.

I'm really thinking it was the fact you got up in the morning. Mornings are really hideous. This is a clear call to SLEEP IN for your sanity and calmness. Had the same situation arisen, say, at noon, I'm willing to bet it would've been SO different.

Stephanie said...

Love those hormones :)

KMDuff said...

I just laughed hysterically thru this great fun post. Why? Cuz I think you must be writing about me & my DH. :) Way to make it sound funny! :)

Kim said...

Yes...hmmm. well, global warming does cause lots of fisticuffs even in he calmest of homes.

Tina H. said...

Or you could just be harboring ill and angry feelings because you are home and not on vacation any more. Feeling for you.

Ren said...

I don't know...I think I'd KICK somebody if they showed me how I should turn the light off rather than just shut the dang thing off! Blame the hormones if you wish....I'd have been pissed too.;)

But he does have a great way of diffusing things.

whimsigal said...

This was hysterical! I just got finished with Mt. Laundry myself and will soon be experiencing the joys of pee on toilets, too.

Thank goodness he's so even keeled! My husband wouldn't have fared so well.

:)

evie

Silvia said...

OMG! How totally funny! I can see the whole scene playing out. :)