Look, even as critical and bitchy as I am, I have to give my Husband credit.
He doesn’t have any of the usual habits or hobbies most wives complain about. He rarely drinks. He doesn’t smoke or over-eat. He doesn’t golf and he seldom even watches TV or plays video games. He never even sleeps late.
In fact, he’s completely family focused. He’s great with our kid. He helps out around the house. He manages our finances and takes out the trash. And he has a bunch of healthy habits which in theory is a wonderful thing. . .taking care of himself, setting a good example for our son. . .
But in practice? Even the healthy habits make me a little bonkers sometimes.
Because as usual it’s not him, it’s me.
For one thing he’s unapologetic. If it’s “running night” he goes running – dinner, laundry, or wailing kid be damned. It’s not that I’m upset that I do not have “running nights.” I’m annoyed that I’m wracked with guilt when the laundry piles up, the house is a little messy, or the kid has been mindlessly licking the oven door for 10 minutes while I attempt to respond to an urgent email that has been pending for 7 days.
For another thing, these habits take a lot of time. Sure, the actual running only takes about 30 minutes. But there’s another 20 minutes of stretching and then a long shower.
And don’t even get me started on his dental habits! I’ll bet dental professionals can perform a root canal faster than it takes this man to floss his teeth. While he’s in the bathroom waging war on tooth decay, I sit on the crumb-covered floor being assaulted by a toddler wielding a plastic shovel.
I do not have this luxury of time on a daily basis. My shower takes 5 minutes tops. My makeup 2 minutes. And while, I do floss everyday, some days, I can only manage to hit about 6 teeth before all hell breaks loose again.
His habits require a discipline I seem incapable of achieving myself. Chris would never stay up until 2 AM because he was reading, or painting, or because the damned toilet has a rust ring at the water line and needs bleached (again). Chris goes to bed everyday at the same time and gets up everyday at the same time. Chris always eats the same breakfast and the same single square of dark chocolate dipped in a little bit of natural peanut butter every evening.
I on the other hand, have no consistency and even less discipline. My days revolve around the demands of a 14-month old. My breakfast typically consists of whatever partially regurgitated items remain on Mac’s high chair tray washed down with 60 ounces of black coffee. I can’t trust myself to eat one small square of chocolate. . .and I hate having to stir that natural peanut butter so I eat the kind that has been partially hydrogenated. . .or whatever they do to it – which is likely mutating my genes or causing that one toenail to look weird or something even worse.
My Husband’s Free Time (while quite limited) is Actually Free. When Chris goes running, he’s out of the house and he’s alone. He’s not juggling a baby while trying to chop vegetables and listen to NPR. He’s not folding laundry while reading a magazine, and eating a banana. All he is doing is running. You remember this post where I suspected I nearly ruined a brand new dress with gesso? You know how that could have been avoided? By NOT combining household chores with my own hobbies.
But I’m not sure I’m capable of doing so.
And perhaps instead of being annoyed by my Husband’s habits, I should fully embrace them. After all, he’s clearly going to be a good disciplined, relaxed example for our son. I one the other hand, will serve as the horrible, crazed, chaotic warning.