Today was one of those days that reminded me why I don't usually ask for help with things around the house. I learned long ago that if something needed doing I should do it. Husband used to work 2 jobs so if the grass was growing up over the front door I would go out and mow it. If the car was sounding like it had a family of squirrels living under the hood I took it to the repair shop. That was just how it worked.
Then H retired and he suddenly felt he would and could help me with EVERYTHING, whether I wanted the help or not. For 35 years I moved the furniture, put up the Christmas lights and made the beds without any help. Now suddenly I can't go shopping alone.
I have made concessions and "asked" for help making the bed, emptying or filling the dish washer or even on occasion having help grocery shopping. All of the above cause me a great deal of anxiety even though I tell myself the sheets don't need to be all the way on the bed, it really is a help to have H take the dishes out of the dish washer only to leave them all over the kitchen counter and so what if I asked him to buy bread and he comes home with pizza. I have learned to "LET IT GO" and accept what I get.
But today brought home the reasons I WOULD RATHER DO IT MYSELF !
Having been in a grand Funk for the past several months I have done nothing around here. I have not been motivated to clean, organize or throw out anything. It was all mental but I just could NOT get moving. The birth of the twins seems to have broken the funk and I am now fired up to kick some ass around here as far as cleaning goes. Having Kaelin and Finn arriving this weekend adds to my energy so I have been attacking the back yard, lanai and the dreaded GARAGE PLAY ROOM. For the past several months the garage has become a pit of despair. Everything I couldn't face has been thrown into that room.
This morning I was fired up and first headed to the back yard to get out the inflatable slide. Ger had said he would blow it up but that means nothing. He went to the gym and I took advantage of the alone time to really attack the yard. By the time he came home he must have felt he had to help because out he came. I tried to tell him to go rest a while but he insisted he help. He got the extension cord, the little pump and sat down to inflate the slide. I can't even begin to tell you what went on from that point but suffice to say the slide is still not blown up. I think it has a hole in it and if I leave it over night it just may wind up in the garbage tomorrow. Husband exhausted himself sitting in the chair holding the pump so when I left at 3:00 to meet a friend he finally came inside to nap.
I came home recharged after a delish Starbucks chai tea and decided to attack the garage. I figured H was sitting quietly watching Fox News I just might get something done. I cleaned off the shelves holding all the cleaning and house hold products and found 6 bottles of long dead tonic water. I had just pulled them off the shelf when you know who arrived in the door way saying those dreaded 3 words, "CAN I HELP?" You know what I wanted to say but instead I handed him a bottle of tonic and asked him to empty it and the 5 others into the kitchen sink and put the empty bottles into the recycle bin. SIMPLE you say ??? It is a matter of walking 6 steps to the sink, pouring out the liquid, walking 6 steps back to the garage door and dropping the EMPTY bottles into the bin. I don't know how or what H was doing but as he dumped the bottles into the bin he also poured tonic all over the garage floor and into the bin. Seriously, I REALLY REALLY do NOT know how he could "empty" bottles and yet pour that much liquid all over the garage. In case you didn't know, Tonic Water is sticky when it hits the floor.
The garage is not clean yet because I had to stop what I was doing to mop the garage and kitchen floor.
I'm so glad I have a "HELPER" ! Where's the freaking Prozac ????????
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