Frankly, I'd rather whine on the blog than risk messing up this tender little shoot of FLR that I'm attempting to cultivate. I say "I'm attempting" because at moments like this it seems pretty clear that this is all in my head. So if it's not, we need to communicate better.
I was thrilled when my beloved got home last night. I missed her just the way I used to when we were new at this, and that was bittersweet. I can grasp at straws that as she was walking in to the house, arms loaded with stuff, she said "There's a bag and a backpack in the car." Not an order, not even a request, but I could take it that way and did, happily. But by the time I got back for a second trip for the other stuff, her arms were loaded with junk for her second trip. So much for expectations. I did get to help though.
Somewhere in the process while I was getting the computer unpacked and the dinner made, she unpacked her bag in the bedroom, so it was my unpleasant surprise to find that when I finally got upstairs. So much for expectations.
This morning's routine was knocked off-kilter by her commitment to make sandwiches and drinks for an affair. Her commitment, I did it since she had been out and mentioned that she'd been stressing about it. There were some pleasant moments last night as I was figuring out how to make 10 gallons of drink and she was reading a magazine, but it was slender consolation for the suitcase thing.
By the time I got the sandwiches done this morning (I would have made them last night but she suggested they'd be fresher if made this morning, and I've finally learned not to disagree on points like that), she had made the coffee (which maybe was our "gateway service", so though nice, that hurt. So much for expectations.
And I head the clothes washer going and casually asked our daughter if she'd started a load. As she said she hadn't, I know my beloved has. I swear, there wasn't even enough clothes to make up a load, so I'm frustrated. I'm NOT going to get in to this passive aggressive if-there's-one-piece-of-clothing-then-do-a-load thing. So much for expectations.
Frankly, in the context of an FLR that was "working", I don't think any of this would be an issue. I expect we're still going to be a team, and there will be times when things work best when she picks up what wouldn't otherwise get done until later. But right now, I need (yes, I need) some kind of acknowledgment of what she's doing. Even something like "Here's your coffee, I figured you couldn't get to it" communicates the expectation that I make the coffee. Rather than "Here, I'm a little out of practice." I suppose there might have been a snappy rejoinder to that which acknowledged an expectation, but I'm not good at snappy rejoinders.
I've never been comfortable with submissive male bloggers' posts where they parse their wives' statements - "She said please" or "She didn't order me, she asked me" types of things. But now I think I get where they're coming from. It's about the expectations, not the words. It's about the acknowledgment of what's going on. It's about communication and what means what.
Glad to have a blog where I can vent. We'll talk about our relationship this weekend, and by then this little rant will have cooled a lot, which will be a good thing.
But the happy homecoming, though happy, has been a little more difficult for me than I expected.
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