Peacekeeping in the house and especially with your husband is more illusive than peace in the Middle East.
The two main wars being waged in this house are between me and the babies and between me and my better half. The first battle is more of a civil war passive aggressive war, when I feel I pretty much hold the boys hostage for days on end, particularly when its been raining for 2 weeks straight and we cant leave the house. Sometimes even I feel like a hostage with no way out and that I have been held captivity for far too long. I have to say though, that the war zone with a cranky husband is by the far the worst war to be waging. Now I know that I am not the easiest of women to get along with, but after sever sleep deprivation (which is one of the highest forms of torture) plus constant arguing and bickering one can certainly crack under the pressure and the most acerbic words escape from my mouth well before they have time to travel to my head. I sometimes wish that I could be one of those subservient ‘yes’ wives, a 1950s type Stepford wife programmed to please her and ‘give him what he needs’ day in and day out. I truly believe those girls are the smart ones and end up getting what they want from a marriage in the end. But try as I might, I just cant seem to feel comfortable donning a frilly starched apron and presenting my husband with a curtsey and pouty peck on the check while I offer him a steaming hot casserole and politely enquire how his day at the office was as a marches in the door, because quite frankly I am not up for small talk when he gets home and all I want to do is breathe in some chocolate and shower and roll into bed for 1 0r 2 measly hours before I get woken by one or both of the babies!
I’m sorry but I just can’t pretend to be something I am not, not even if it helps me win this war. So Lance, if you ever get round to reading this, here are some guidelines for our Peace Charter that I have drafted to help you help me win this war together and prevail as a couple still married, still holding some semblance of respect and love for one another:
• When I say no I really do mean no and I am seconds way from curling up for 6 months with chronic fatigue so please let me sleep unless you want a dead wife
• When I say I don’t want you to buy me material gifts like flowers and jewellery I might be trying to be a be a bit polite and a spontaneous treat here and there wont be totally out of the question. If you took initiative and came home with the perfect size 7 Chanel shoes I would be SO impressed. Plus I should have got a gift from you when both boys where born…just wondering…
• When you make yourself a cup of tea it wouldn’t kill you to make me one too, unprompted
• Each time you tell me that it means nothing to you that I am a qualified lawyer that really drives me crazy, you should be proud of my achievements. Also you should know that that qualification is sometimes the only thing that makes me feel like I have achieved something bigger in my life
• When I go out for an hour or two or a night here and there please don’t make me feel guilty by presenting me with the statistics of the exact hours, minutes and seconds I have been gone and that “I had my fun and I should be grateful”
• When you get home from work please don’t ask me if I “changed the flat tyre on the pram” or “lodged the tax returns with the ATO” or “got the baby’s passport application in” or “paid insurance” – you already know the answer to all those questions