My husband is a great guy. But he’s a class-A Alpha Male and he just has to get his way. Stubborn is not the word for his behavior. While I like being on the arm of a super-strong guy, it can get a little tiresome at times.
Like yesterday. We wanted to hire a babysitter so we could take a trip to Central Park. Rather, I wanted to hire one. He thought it would be a great idea to bring wee Delilah along for “fun.” Fun? I love my rug-rat but she’s the primary reason I’m looking to get away! Last week she wrote on the wall with a crayon. The week before she dumped all our cereal and grains off the terrace to “feed the birds.” She’s a handful.
A super-sharp toddler, she takes after her Dad and does things her own way. So, of course, I wanted to leave her at home with a trusted teen. We’ve used three different babysitters in the past, all with good results.
Needless to say, we took Delilah along, and it was a total disaster. She’s potty trained, of course, but she ended up peeing herself. And then did it a second time. We were all out of fresh clothes, so we were in quite a bind. My husband blamed me. Imagine that? he insisted she come along, then blames me. Who brings along three extra outfits? She ended up going unclothed except for her pretty sweater. It was a warm day, so I didn’t care. Other people must have thought we were from Europe, here to see the Statue of Liberty and Broadway.
Last week, I wanted a massage. My husband did also. Enter the dilemma. Neither of us wanted to leave the house. I looked up Couples Massage in New Jersey and found a place that travels to the home. But we were back to needing a babysitter, if we wanted to get our massages side-by-side. Unfortunately, all of our usual sitters were busy. Joelle had to study for her math competition. Rhianna was sick. And, Maya was out of town, visiting relatives up in Martha’s Vineyard.
So what did we do? I was clever. I proposed that we let Delilah watch us get massaged. I started by watching a YouTube video with her. It did not go as planned, as the next thing Delilah was insisting was that she get a massage! I made a deal with my little crazy-maker: Watch Mommy and daddy get massages, and if she’s still interested, she can get one, too.
We shook on it. She got that from her Dad. Working on Wall Street has done nothing to make my partner less combative. If anything, he’s always looking at everything as making a deal. I feel like I’m married to Donald Trump, sans the gold toilets and silverware, though I have to admit we’re pretty well off.
The therapists arrived at nine. They were scheduled for six, but I had to delay, as my husband was stuck at the office. The issue was, my daughter’s bedtime was 7 PM. That’s actually pretty late for a toddler. She insisted staying up. So we ended up receiving massages, with our baby staring at us from the couch, munching on animal crackers.
How does my daughter get her way? She doesn’t cry. She pouts and crosses her arms, and refuses to listen. She puts her button nose up in the air and closes her eyes. Her future teachers are going to have a wonderful time telling her what to do.
After our session was over, she insisted on climbing up on the massage table. She wanted a massage, too. My husband finally picked her up, caveman-style, and delivered her to her bedroom. She knows not to challenge him. He’s a bigger pain than she is, and she well knows it.
I thought that would be it for her and massages. But every day for the next five days it’s all she talked about. Finally, I looked up Pediatric Massage in New Jersey. There weren’t too many choices, but there was one place that had Certified Pediatric Massage Therapists who travel to the home.
I’m going to go into that experience in another blog post. Let me get back to the topic, which was my husband and his bull-headed stubbornness. I blame his parents. They told him (according to his own words) that he was a champion, he was a winner, he was “the man” since he was born, practically. While this has made him very confident, it has also made him a pain in the butt.
He always has to be right. Even if he knows he’s wrong. Slightly narcissistic, maybe? The only reason I even put up with it is because he jokes around about getting his way, and with his amazing hazel eyes and chiseled face, I just can’t resist. His daughter already uses her beauty to get her way. She has her Dad’s looks, and his attitude. With blonde hair and hazel eyes like a world-class model, I can see she’s going to pout her way into money one day.
My husband has one big issue that I can’t deal with: He has to get his way about dinner. Now, I am usually pretty flexible about eating. But I have yoga class, and he’s very inconsiderate about giving me time to get to my class and back home. He makes fun of my time spent seeking enlightenment. I can handle the jokes; that’s fine. But I can’t handle him screaming into the phone that he wants to eat and that he’s going to order take-out without me. Of course,he never does, and by the time i get home, he’s pleasant as a plum, but still….
I know I’m painting him in a poor light, and this blog was meant for me to be a place I can vent, but still I feel guilty. He’s very generous, even to a fault. Also, he always helps out other people in need. He will make the time to meet with a friend having personal issues, even if it means going to the bar at 11 PM and sleeping only four hours before the next grueling workday. He loaned my brother $40,000 to start his own small business. He buys me everything I ask for. But he’s not perfect.
In an ideal world, I would have married a man who listens to me and considers my feelings, as well as his own. Some women might be balking right now, thinking I should walk out. No thanks. I love my man. I just wish he was a little bit more accommodating.
Life In Jersey City 