Protecting that Friday Nirvana

10/06/2009

Have you ever had a guilty conscience?  Been plagued by a deed that just won’t let you sleep at night?  Said something that you wish you could take back?  That’s where I am right now.  My brain has been completely overtaken by guilty feelings. I’m having hard time thinking about anything else. This wasn’t even going to be my topic this week.  I was fully planning on writing about the new American Girl doll that Mattell is proposing– who is homeless.  Yes, you read that right.  She’s homeless.  And she’ll cost $95.00.  It’s sheer lunacy.  But even the maddening ridiculousness of that takes a back seat to how bad I feel about hurting my husband’s feelings recently.   It was totally by accident and I feel just awful.  But not quite awful enough to change.

 Now that the kids are back in school, I’ve been able to arrange my schedule so that I have Fridays off from work.  And by off, I mean I’m at home stripping wall paper in the dining room, planting mums in the front yard, washing windows, changing beds and either putting up or taking down some type of seasonal or holiday decoration.  Even though I’m busy, the time is totally and completely my own.  I can listen to the radio.  Or not.  I can shave and wax and pluck without someone knocking on the bathroom door.  I’m totally free to do whatever I choose.  Isn’t that every Mom’s idea of nirvana?  A few hours guaranteed that no one is going to need anything from you?  Parents know those times are few and far between.  But I’m lucky to have the advantage that I can enjoy a few hours to myself every Friday.  God, how I look forward to Fridays.  And yet, here was Wes, standing in my kitchen at 11:00 on Friday morning.

I know the look on my face told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t exactly welcome.  My face holds no secrets – whatever I’m feeling is usually written all over it.  And Wes, not known to be a master of nuance in communication, got it right away.  He wasn’t in the house 3 minutes before he was on the phone, making plans to meet a friend for lunch.  I was so conflicted!  I desperately wanted him to go – though I knew it was hurtful and that I had no good reason to ask him to leave.  But what the heck was he doing here?  “I wasn’t expecting you” was what I managed to say, but I know my jaw was hanging open.  My mind was spinning.  I had these hours all planned.  Was he going to want to talk?  Highly unlikely.  Was he going to want lunch?  No, I think he just made plans with Bill.  Was he going to want to fool around?  Oy!  This is never going to work!

I don’t blame him or begrudge him for wanting to work from home.  His commute is long and horrific.  Anyone who’s ever worked in an office knows you can never get any work done there.  And I know from experience how fabulous it is to only have to get out of bed and walk downstairs to work without any of the usual crap.  And who was I to throw him out?  After all, it is his house too (duh).  And, if you want to get technical, he was home trying to work – he was on the clock.  I was officially off the clock.  I wasn’t bringing home any bacon.  If anything, I should be the one to leave.  But it’s Friday – my day off.  I really need this day.

Obviously, I’m a real home-body.  Many of my friends do not understand my love of being home.  If offered a day off, most of them would take to the streets and go out amongst the people.  Lunch, pedicures, shopping.  I love that stuff, too.  I just like being home alone more.  I like getting a jump start on the weekend chores.  I like making some progress on projects around the house.  I like the feeling that no one is going to bother me. 

As always, Wes has been very gracious and has certainly acknowledged my need/desire to be home alone, whether he understands it or not.  I’m not certain that I totally understand it.  I’m a very social person.  I love to be with my friends and family.  But sometimes it’s nice to not to have to talk to anyone, not to have to worry if someone is hungry or needs a ride or wants to tell a joke.  I get twice the amount accomplished when no one else is around.  I could just as easily wash windows and change the beds if Wes and the kids were here, but when someone is here, my focus becomes them.  It’s nice every now and then to just have to focus on the task at hand, and not on anybody else.  Does this make me selfish?  I don’t think so.  It’s not like I’m sitting around watching soaps and eating bonbons.  I’m doing housework and accomplishing the things that no one else here does.  Shouldn’t that count for something?  I think so.  But is it enough to risk hurting my husband’s feelings for.  I’m not so sure.

Marriage and relationships are hard and often wrought with tension and conflicts.  I know this isn’t a huge issue in the big picture.  I just wish that my reaction to his arriving on the scene hadn’t been so drastic.  I wish I had instead been able to smile and say “Wow, you’re home early.  Great!” instead of making him think he was unwelcome in his own home.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.  I love having him home with us.  Just not before 2:00 on Friday.

Comments

[Brenda Smith]

I understand exactly how you feel.I have also become a homebody. I prefer to be at home by myself then out shopping or visiting.
Where my husband is concerned is a whole different thing. I don't care if he is at home or not,because he never spends the time he is at home with me. He is usually gone,which makes me very happy. But, when he is here, you would never know.