Sometimes it isn't all about you!

In addition to a guestbook at our wedding, we had our family and friends sign river rock stones with a words of advice for us.  These all went into a big glass candle holder which are now home to my spoons, ladles, etc. in the kitchen.  It's fun because rather than a guestbook that you never pull out, we get to look at these little pieces of advice and kind words everyday.  One that stands out to me everyday, reads: Sometimes it isn't all about you!

I usually have to chuckle, because it's something that seems so simple.  I mean, of course it isn't all about me!  Er, right?

Well, I am here to tell you that at 9+ months pregnant, it's really hard to grasp the fact (especially where husbands are concerned) that it's not.  You know, all about you.

Our day yesterday looked something like this:

I could not sleep the night before.  Could not for the life of me get comfortable.  I was huffing and puffing and Chris kept asking me what I needed (which he has gotten really good at doing in the midst of a deep sleep).  Nothing could be done.  And I was hot.  Oh, so hot.  No AC for us, and our house is reading 85 degrees these days.   Kind of dreadful.

Morning comes and Chris kisses me goodbye and tells me he left green tea for me.  Yuck.  I don't even like green tea.  Thanks, I guess?  All the while, I am still feeling self pity for my large self who got no sleep and am wondering if green tea is really the best he can do (mistake #1).  I drink the darn tea and head to work.

I spend the day at work and get 3 phone calls from Chris.  This is totally unusual.  We really aren't "talkers" at work.  Mostly because he is in a small trailer with 3 other guys and I get annoyed that he talks to me so "bluntly" when they are around.  So when he calls yesterday just to chat, I start to wonder what is up and get annoyed by his small talk.  Me: "Yes, I will see you later."  "Yes, I will be home after the grocery store."  "Yes, I am fine."  "No, I am not getting a full body pillow with only 2 weeks left."  "No, I don't think the baby is coming today."  "Well, I am sorry, I didn't sleep last night and I am uncomfortable!!  I am not in a bad mood"  "Can you just leave me alone - geesh."  "Okay...(angrily) goodbye."  Ugh!  Meanwhile, I do think it's kind of sweet that he cares about me to call so many times (mistake #2).

After work, I head to the grocery store, exhausted at this point.  Wheeling my cart up and down the aisles and making decisions about meals seemed unmanageable.  I am starting to get mad at Chris for not offering to do the shopping at this point when he knows how tired I am. When he calls and asks for juice and asks how much longer I will be because he needs said juice, I snort a little at his audacity (Mistake #3).   But I finish the shopping.  I get the juice.  It takes me 1.5 hours.  And by the time I get home, I am just below fuming.    

I get home.  I pull up to the driveway.  I wait a few minutes in the car for him to come help me.  He is almost always out the door as soon I pull up but it quickly becomes apparent that he's not coming.  And now?  Now, I am fuming.  I get the first round of groceries out.  With full hands and sweat dripping down my face in the 90 degree heat, I fidget with the keys and the door handle. Meanwhile, I drop a heavy bag of canned foods down the steps thinking to myself, "He better be hurt for not helping me..."

Worse.  I walk in and he is napping.  Napping!!  Hard.  For lack of a better phrase, "Oh Hell No!" was the first thing that came to mind.  


Being as stubborn as I am, I don't wake him.  I put the first round down.  I head out for the second round and pile them all in our kitchen.  I put all of the groceries away. Loudly.  I empty old food.  I run the garbage disposal.  I do just about anything to make him wake up on his own.  

When my efforts fail and I can't take it anymore, I go over to the couch and explain how he will be making dinner tonight.  Thanks for the help.  I hope he enjoyed his nice nap.  I sure wish I could nap.  I will be downstairs.  Hmmph. (BIG Mistake #4)

How does this end you may ask?  My poor husband is sick.  102 temperature sick.  He never gets this sick.  And not once did he say a thing to me about it.

#1: He made the green tea for himself (also after not sleeping due to my tossing and turning) and thought I would like one too.

#2: He not only wanted to know how I was doing, but called because he wanted to talk to just me.  He thought I would get the hint that he was not well would ask what was wrong and have a suggestion for him.

#3: He needed juice for some Vitamin C and wanted to take some with his Tylenol.

#4: He fell asleep because he was sick.  He had a fever.  He was achy and had the chills and thought he needed to rest so he could help me with dinner when I got home...

Oh, sigh.  Sometimes I am a bad wife. 

My poor guy - I honestly have never seen him look at me with such puppy dog eyes.  Something about your man being sick sends something to your heart.  And mine sure stung last night.  

So, lesson learned. Apparently, I thought I had that piece of advice down in my mind more than I do in reality.  Because, sometimes it really isn't all about you!