This morning, while in the shower, I heard the door to the other bathroom close and I cringed. At first, I thought it was odd to have such a visceral reaction to something so benign. Then, I realized why the clicking of the door closed bothers me so much. The only person in the house who actually closes the door to the bathroom is Andy and, when Andy closes the door to the bathroom, he doesn't come out for a very long time. Without getting too much into TMI, I know that the important work of the potty takes more time for some than others but NOT. THAT. LONG! After 25 minutes pass, when I can do nothing because asking if he is ok or done is awkward, I start to wonder what exactly is going on behind that door and why being in there for so long takes priority over spending time with his family. But again, it's silly of me to be sad and missing my husband while he is in the bathroom because everybody poops.
In addition to time in the bathroom, Andy dedicates much of his time to work. He has four jobs and there are only 24 hours in the day. Do the math: this means that he never has enough time in the day, or night, to do all the things he's tasked to do. Dude wins the Gold Medal in every event of the Busy Olympics. He is always coming or going or texting, typing or talking. He wakes up listing off his to-list and falls asleep with his phone poised in his hand, mid email. Now, I work, too, but I have one paid gig and I practice setting boundaries. Plus, my brain shuts down if I don't have down time. After a tough day at work, or with the kiddos, I love to make memes, read Onion articles, ride my (totally sweet) bike, or have a fun conversation that gets me belly laughing, especially if the conversation is with Andy. He's incredibly serious so if I can make him laugh, I can go to sleep satisfied.
I don't get to make him laugh enough- because he's working. He wakes up and works and then he keeps working. After he's done working, he works some more and then when he thinks he can't work anymore, he works. Luckily for him, he takes tremendous pride in his profession(s) and his work aligns directly with his values. (That's the golden ticket in the career development practitioners' world, FYI.) Andy greatly values community building and improving the lives of others and he does both very well. I know this, not because he's my husband and I'm all proud but because EVERYBODY, AND THEIR DAMN MOTHERS, TELL ME.
You know this story. It's in my book of legends.
On a flight back from California. Lady next to me starts talking to me. She lives in upstate. I live in upstate, actually Cooperstown.
Here we go.
Oh, do you know Andrew Marietta?
Eye roll.
Whether I'm in a restaurant, the grocery store, library, pool or at my own place of business, I am told, over and over again, that Andy is great, Andy is helpful. Andy was so kind and spent 4 hours one evening helping their board. Or drove 6 hours, just one way, on one weekend, to attend their one hour planning session. That Andy, he's a non-profit super hero.
I'm not kidding. Someone said that. I can't make that up.
So, I've acknowledged this before, but more as my own green envy, but this week, in the shower, I had a moment. I realized that it's not Andy's professional success, or the attention he gets, that really bothers me. It's that, in doing all this great work, he's not paying attention to me. Andy receives praise for working. For working so hard. So often. All of the time. It's hard to tell someone he's being shitty to one person when he's being so helpful to many others. It's not like he's out misbehaving.
But why? Why does Andy work so much?
Yes, we have bills to pay, but I have a paycheck, too.
Yes, his employer is demanding but so is mine.
Yes, the people he serves need to be served outside of the 9-5 but so do my people.
Yes, he has four jobs, but I am the primary caregiver. That's like 4 jobs or at least a bad, unpaid internship that never ends.
Yes, he loves what he does but so do I.
So, what is it? What drives Andy to work so much? Why does he receive recognition for what he does outside of the home when I feel like I'm scorned when I tip the balance and work more than I parent or give time to my spouse?
And, how can I be mad? It's not like he's out drinking or gambling or taking part in activities that aren't deemed as socially acceptable avoidance behaviors. He's working, really, really hard. I must be an ungrateful wife for complaining.
I'm not ungrateful. I'm just calling his bluff. And my own bluff. And yours, too. Just because you are doing something nice or kind, or helpful or socially acceptable, doesn't mean it's ok to avoid your family. We all need to stop being so busy because there is no such thing as the Busy Olympics. We're only busy to avoid whatever it is that we don't want to deal with, or are too tired, or overwhelmed, or bored of dealing with.
But, please. Just, please, come out of your bathrooms. Put down your laptops and cell phones and talk to the people in your home. They are annoying and loud and needy and weird but they love you and you don't want to look back and wish that you'd spent more time looking at their memes and less time playing Candy Crush on the toilet while they waited for you on the other side of the door.
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