My husband returned from a long business trip this weekend. We’re all thankful to have him home, each for different reasons. The kids love Dad’s playfulness (as do I) and he provides a center-keel to the family. I love having my best friend home, as well as another adult to lift some of the family and house burden I’ve been shouldering alone this past week.

The reconnection with what is happening around the house is tough sometimes. I have a list of business-oriented items that need to be dealt with (things to be signed, decisions to be made, etc.), while there’s emotional reconnecting that needs to happen as well. He needs to get back in the groove, as well as rest, and catch up with what work he can before the dreaded Monday deluge strikes.

When these separations and reunions happen, I often feel conflicted. Glad to see him, but also vaguely mad and irritated. There’s stuff that needs to get done and accomplished, but he’s got his own, legitimate agenda of things he still needs to do. The re-entry is often bouncy, as our conflicting wants and needs try to mesh, as we try to get back on the same wave-length.

For example, yesterday, we made a plan about the day, including having a nice dinner as a family after the chaos of re-entry. I was in the middle of making dinner, and he was relaxing. I had to run to the store, and when I came back, none of the help he had promised to give towards dinner had been done. He was still relaxing. And I got ticked off.

Why? I don’t begrudge him the time needed to be alone. Time needed to just to be at home, doing your own thing. But I felt let down. Sure, he had cleaned out a kid’s closet earlier in the day. Helped with laundry. He did a lot for the house and for me. And I think a lot of it was that I wanted some of that time, too. But I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t say “you owe me” although, I think that’s part of how I was (am) feeling as well. It just didn’t seem fair (or should I say, justified). So I swallowed how I was feeling, let him have his personal time, and then got mad later.

As I look at it today, this seems incredibly stupid. You can’t expect other people to know how you’re feeling if you don’t tell them. But as a mom and a parent, I am used to emotional triage. This person and their needs are more important than my own. For example, I know that to get a good night’s sleep, giving in to my child, who has a talent for sleeping perpendicular to everyone else, is a huge mistake. But I am a sucker for his plea for snuggles almost every time, under the justification that they are growing up SO fast, these opportunities are fleeting and each one I pass by will be one that I regret later.

I have an over-riding sense that the decisions that I make and my choices affect the kind of childhood my kids are experiencing. I want them to know we love them. I love the laughter and goofiness at the dinner table (It turned out to be a fun, if somewhat disjointed dinner after all.) I want them to know how important they are to us, and how worth our time and energy they are. But in this child-first model, it’s easy to lose yourself.

Maybe it’s having been to law school. Mediation and balancing the needs of all parties seems to come as naturally for me as breathing. And I am almost always happy to put myself at the bottom of the list, because I know I can handle the deferred gratification. But I guess what I really want to know is that I am important. And loved. And appreciated. And this if often the hardest thing in the world to ask for, since it seems like you are moving caring into the realm of scorekeeping.

I have no idea how to solve this problem long term. There’s no clever response or ten tips to marital perfection that prevents these occasional imbalances in the emotional needs of the household. Stu Mark talks about carrying your end of the sofa. Taking emotional responsibility for yourself. Some days the sofa seems a little heavier than you wanted it to be. Or if you complain it’s heavy, you worry about being called a wimp. And sometimes you just want to call the movers and have them take care of the silly thing so you can go outside and play.

Today I want to swing on the monkey bars, and play on the swings, and not have a care in the world, but I’ve got some furniture I’m gonna have to move, like it or not.

Photo courtesy of talkingplant, used under a Creative Commons License.

[tags]kids, husband, wife, relationships, responsibilities, communication, work, feelings[/tags]