Is It that Difficult???

How hard is it to take that one extra step?  You know the little one, that will prevent the meltdown or whining??  Either mine or O’s meltdown?  My meltdown is usually kept to myself, displayed only in the huffing and puffing, and aggressively placing things on the table. O’s is more vocal.  I would say O’s is more annoying because I hear it and it affects me.  Based on this knowledge, that O is a stickler for rules and routine, why not take that extra step to prevent me for finishing it up??  Why or why?

Exhibit A: This morning. DH takes her to the car, straps her in, but forgets one critical step. Because it’s cold in the car, and our drive to school is 5 minutes, and because she runs around most of the day, her attire is usually pretty light, no flannel, so she won’t get too hot at school. All he had to do was put her blanket on her, so she even if she wasn’t cold at that second, she would inevitable ask for it, because O is a stickler for routine.  I get in the car, I have my laptop bag, my purse, my huge umbrella. He drives off before I even put on my seatbelt. (I won’t even get into this one. It annoys me. I just want to get settled in the seat before we take off… but he never EVER considers to not drive away.  One time I was adjusting my seat, just as he hit the gas, and the seat flew back. I was so annoyed!!)  This morning, I have yet to adjust everything, and he drives away, and O says, I want my blankie.  Why couldn’t he have done that before he got in the car?  So I had to turn around, move my stuff around, put her blanket on….

Exhibit B: Putting O’s shoes on. O wears little sneakers with shoe laces. Obviously, she can’t tie them, so O has to do it. But is it so hard to make sure they are tied correctly, instead of letting her run around, then they get untied, and I have to re-tie. I know it’s stupid…

Exhibit C: I make the bed when I get up in the morning. Ok, Making the bed makes it seem like there are several steps (tucking in sheet, placing comforter on mattress, arranging numerous decorative pillows, adding a throw…). It’s basically, arranging the pillows, two on each side, and throwing the comforter on, and make sure it covers the mattress.  DH take a nap, move pillows around, somehow the comforter ends up backwards and perpendicular. I mean, how does he sleep that it gets that way???  And he walks away. NO arranging. NO fixing. I mean it would take two minutes to arrange the bed.

Exhibit D: His dad was coming over to help him figure out his new free senior phone. Which let me tell you is the most counter intuitive phone ever. And for seniors it must be like a Chinese puzzle.  The website is even worse!!  I think the whole thing is a scam on Social Security or Medicaid, or whatever government agency is paying them to give seniors this free phone (oh not to mention, if you call customer service, they tell you to go on the worst navigable website… great way to talk to seniors!)  I printed out the instructions for phone AGES ago, and gave them to DH.  DH always gets upset that there is too much stuff on the table (like my watch, or O’s activity books, or glass of water). The day before DH’s dad comes, at 10:30 pm he asks me where the instructions are. I say, I don’t know, I gave them to you. Him: Well, he’s coming tomorrow. What should I do?  So I start looking for them. Now you would think that since these are clearly HIS papers, he would get his ass off the couch to look for them. Does he do that?  Oh NOOOOOOOOOOOO…. When I find them and aggressively throw them on the table, he’s like why are you mad? Why didn’t you get up to look for the papers? Him: Because you know where all the papers are. Me: But these are your papers. You should KNOW where they are.  Retreat to neutral corners.  His dad’s phone is fixed, but he better not ask me where his shit is again, because I won’t look for it.

So freaking annoyed!  But now, it’s a long weekend, and we have THREE full days to annoy each other even more.  Happy Presidents’ Day!

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About RidgewoodMom

Thirtysomething mom of a baby girl. First and only baby, possibly. First baby amongst my close friends. These are the trials, frustrations and lessons I have learned in raising a single child in New York.
This entry was posted in Father Dearest, Mommy Dearest, Running away to Patagonia. Bookmark the permalink.

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