The "Bad Day"

Some days are good days.  Some days are bad days.  Today(yesterday) was a little of both.

When the baby started making noise this morning, the Soldier got up with her and I actually got to sleep in.  I haven't been sleeping well.  For months I've been waking up in the middle of the night.  I've always been a toss and turn sleeper but still used to manage to sleep well.  Not anymore.  Even more recently I've been laying in bed for hours, flipping and flopping, waiting for sleep to come and wishing I could turn my brain off.  So sleep has not exactly been pleasant, and I was grateful for the chance to wake up on my own clock for the first time in a long time.

Or so I thought.

A couple more hours of fitful sleep was apparently not enough for me to feel refreshed.  In fact, when the Soldier brought the baby up to wake me after noon, I barely felt human.  But I got up and we all went downstairs.  Less than 20 minutes later, while I'm still groggy and trying to bring life into focus, the Soldier mentions lunch for the baby and says "you should go make her rice."  Well, my peaceful rest was short lived, but ok, she needed to eat and she asked for rice.  When I walk into the kitchen my heart sank a little. The Cheerios from her breakfast were still open and on the counter.  The empty milk jug hadn't been rinsed and was sitting next to the cereal.  Her bowl was in the sink with cheerios still floating in milk.  The dish strainer hadn't been touched.  The clean dishwasher was still completely full.  I could feel my blood pressure rising.  I questioned him, with less finesse than I probably needed.  But honestly, I was proud of myself for not saying what I really wanted to, which was "What the hell have you been doing for two hours???"  He was less than thrilled that I wasn't eternally grateful for being allowed to be woken up by him instead of the baby.

It was my breaking point.  We have had discussions about everything from him "helping," to his unrealistic expectations of what I should get done around the house.  Apparently none of it ever sinks in.  Whenever he hears my point of view I usually hear "I'm sorry.  I didn't think of it like that."  Quite frankly, if I never hear the words "I'm sorry" again, it would be ok, because at this point, they have lost their meaning.  They no longer mean, "I apologize," now they are more on par with "I screwed up, can we just get over it so I don't have to feel bad about it anymore."  I've run out of patience and compassion, and it is becoming very apparent.

So after starting a pot of rice for the baby's lunch, I went upstairs.  I took a long shower and didn't worry about rushing out to help.  Afterwards I climbed into bed and watched a couple episodes of my favorite ridiculous tv show.  I got up, got dressed, did my hair and left my house.  I sat down by myself and had dinner and a Margarita.  Food I didn't have to cook, and dishes I didn't have to clean.  It was lovely.  I stopped to pick up some necessities for the house, and took my time, slowly wandering the aisles.  I went and had my nails done.  And before I headed home, I picked up a delicious caramel beverage.  I did all of this with no guilt, and a feeling that I deserved it.

And even when I was out, taking back a small part of myself, I still picked up the Soldier's favorite snack.  And I still ordered him a drink when I bought my own.  Because THAT is what selfless people do.  They don't do nice things because they expect anything in return.  They don't keep tabs on who did what good deeds for whom.  I don't even know how to stop caring about people who sometimes don't deserve it.  I may want a lot of things for myself, and try hard to get them, but you can never accuse me of not taking care of the people I care about.  You can't ever say that I don't think of others, even when I should only be thinking of myself.  And I'm tired of being told that I'm spoiled and selfish.  If I were those things, I wouldn't even be here.

So after "taking the day off" I feel like the Soldier is upset, and I am calm(er).  Because we didn't exactly speak to each other today, he's probably feeling sorry for himself, not realizing the damage that is caused to me every time he starts spouting off about "everything he does for me."  I would think by now that he would realize I don't want to compare.  I've done a lot for this family, too.  And I do it without throwing it in his face.  He thinks my job is so easy, so I let him do it for a day.  Not even a whole day.  And all he did was watch the baby, and do a couple dishes at the end of the night.  All the things I usually do, still have not been done.  And you know what?  I don't care.  I'm done busting my ass over all those things, to have one nice gesture thrown at me like I'm an ungrateful brat.  So whether or not he understands or agrees, I know that I needed this day.  I needed a chance to only have to worry about myself, even if it was only for a few hours.  And it felt like I could breathe better than I have in a long time.  I might even take tomorrow off, too.

Holding On