Miles to Go before They Sleep
A Snapshot of Frustration from the Trenches of Marriage & Motherhood
I stand in the middle of the house, hand to my forehead, and heave a sigh of frustration. The children are running around instead of doing what I’ve asked, and the husband is sitting on the couch and passively joining in their games.
I feel overwhelmed by the steps to be accomplished before the kids are in bed, as well as by the messes that need cleaned up.
I feel tired, stressed, and alone—plus, angry at my husband for not being more of an equal partner to me in this work of childcare and housekeeping. I work a job, too, and this is not the 1950s. (I actually snarled that to him earlier, when he was jokingly saying we should all greet him when he gets home, bring him a drink, and massage his feet.)
I breathe through a wave of frustration. I notice that my feet hurt, my head hurts, and probably I need to eat more. But I’ve got miles to go before the kids sleep, so getting there is my focus now.
Seeing that further lame instructions will not work, I begin issuing a series of leverage countdowns for the kids to get them moving toward bedtime.
When the older kids are finally in their room and I’m in the kitchen fetching their water bottles, my husband says from the couch, in response to something cute that our toddler did, “We should make a little sister for her.”
I know he’s not seriously raising this as a possibility, as we’ve already decided to close that door; he’s just expressing transient feelings of affection (and maybe other interests as well). But my anger spills out, passively aggressive. “Then you’ll have to hire me a helper, a partner who actually helps me,” I snap.
He says, “I help more than most husbands do.”
“No, I don’t think that’s true,” I retort, though I really have no idea what’s true about most husbands, and I don’t really care. I mutter a few more angry and mostly incoherent words.
Then I feel bad for speaking to him out of anger. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m mad right now. I’ll try to calm down,” I say, and go back to the kids’ room.
After putting the kids to bed, I intend to try to repair things with him, but he’s gone to sleep on the couch. I cover him with a blanket as a way of communicating that I still have love and kindly feelings towards him, even when I’m mad.
Then I quietly do the most essential chores, and I head to bed—where I am now writing all this.
I know by now that I have to change my own behavior in order to change our patterns of relating. I know I need to set limits, both with the kids and with him, so that I’m not just ineffectually complaining and hassling them. But what/how? That’s what I need to figure out next.
I feel sad and daunted, and I’m thinking that I’ve got a long way to go on this journey of better relating. But at least I’m on that journey. I will keep trying.
I wrote that snapshot-essay last year, while working hard to understand and change my patterns of relating with my kids, partner, and others.
Happily, I can report that things are going much better these days, most of the time.
I’ve done a lot of active experimenting with different limits and strategies to use with the kids and the husband, and I’ve been practicing putting my own needs first. My husband and I have also done some good communicating work to understand each other better.
The consistent results: the more I take care of myself, clearly say what I want, and act on it, the HAPPIER our home gets.
Other posts I’ve written so far on the topic of learning uphold my own needs:
Essays
Learning to Uphold Myself: Trying to transfigure myself from an “obliger” to an “upholder”
Practicing Transparency: Letting others into my experience rather than curating it for them
Songs
Shut the Door: A Song about Mental Boundaries
I’m a Real Person: A Song about Empowerment
Poems
Personal Space: A Learning Poem
Living Self-first: A poem about my journey from people-pleasing self-abandonment to healthy, joyful self-alignment
Can you relate to my struggles with learning to proactively tend to your own needs and set smart, self-respecting limits with others? Let me know in the comments.
Oof, yes I can definitely relate. While we don't have children, my time in the trenches of caregiving definitely included moments like this one. And I have failed on multiple occasions (including one just a couple weeks ago) to adequately express my needs to my partner, giving in to anger, then shame, then anger about my shame, then shame about my anger, etc. etc. etc.
We're still working on it, too, but that's the thing about partnership--I don't think you ever figure it all out perfectly. We grow and change with the years, and the great thing about being so close to someone for that long is that each trial you overcome together gives you more faith that you can handle anything that comes your way.
I'm glad you've been able to improve things!