Mars and Venus parte dos

(She looks like me. Even her short spikey little hair do, and as of late, googly, glazed over eyes.) So, we have been out of town a ridiculous amount these past couple months. This is the busiest time of year in the hub's profession and we really have been taking jaunts rotating between California and Arizona on almost a weekly basis (6 2-3 day trips in the last 7 weeks). I feel like I am home in time to do all of our laundry and pack the suitcase again. Even though these trips are business trips, we have ourselves a good 'ol time on these little jaunts, so I don't want you to misunderstand me. I'm not complaining. I'm just sayin', it's catching up to me.

We got home from California last night. I walked into our house like a zombie, took a bath and went straight to bed. I came down with the most miserable head cold the night before last. My eyes are itchy, my glands are swollen, my sinuses are pounding away... basically my head could implode at any moment. So I sit here and type still in pajamas, with my little bowl of hot soup and tissue box. What makes it better is being this pregnant. It's nice because I can't take anything to relieve myself and actually counted last night how many times I woke up to pee. SIX. And it's not like a mild need to use the bathroom. It's like the kind that makes you do a little dance. So, uncomfortably pregnant + out of town a lot + a messy house + virus gnawing my face off = really awesome and cheery wife and mommy.

I had a little melt down this morning to my dear companion. It was a perplexing exchange. You'll see what I mean. First off, I was beastly upon waking up because I never really felt like I fell asleep, secondly I knew I had gone to bed with no dishes in the sink and woke up to lots of dirty dishes and that was perplexing. So I was ornery (that's pronounced "awn-ry", not "orny", as in "horny". That's not what we're talking about here folks. The two are commonly confused.) and asked Jason why it looked like a family of 5 was over for dinner when he was the only one who ate. So we conversed back and forth a bit, I cried around the house for 10 minutes or so, and then apologized to him for being snotty first thing in the morning. He apologized as well for not loading his dirty dishes (which he did before leaving for work). And then I went on... "It's just that...." and opened those cathartic flood gates right up. High pitched voice, distorted face, big tears coming down. I was rambling about feeling like I can't get on top of things at home because we've been out of town so much, and how I'm needing to nest, wanting to get things done before baby comes, feeling overwhelmed, etc. So he sat there listening, didn't say anything. Then came the interesting part. Amidst my hullabaloo, I pulled up the bottom of my over sized pajama top to dab at my eyes, exposing my bare hammish belly. Once finished dabbing, I opened up my bright eyes to find that my husband had magically disappeared into thin air. It was a very stealthy maneuver, no sound was made. I remained there wiping my wet face, sheepishly looking around the room all alone, thinking maybe he heard his phone ring in the other room and would be right back to dutifully nurture me. But he didn't come back. I heard him in our room going about business as usual, getting ready for work. He didn't say a word to me. I think I would have been upset if I hadn't been so utterly confused. I started thinking maybe he thought I was talking to Lucy. Or maybe he thought I had a ear piece in my ear and was talking to my mom on the phone, even though that clearly wasn't the case. Then I imagined him having a melt down to me, and me without any kind of response or acknowledgement, getting up and walking away, going on about my day. I was racking my brain, playing what had just happened over again, thinking how anyone could think that was the appropriate thing to do at precisely that moment. I felt no anger, but more humor than anything. Confusing humor, but humor nonetheless. I came to the consensus that he was already mentally gone. When he was sitting across the family room from me appearing to be listening to me cry, his mind was saying a little something like this, I wonder where my gym shoes are. I've gotta meet that guy at nine at the office and need to run by the bank before doing so. I wonder if trading Ronnie Brewer was a good move for the Jazz, I mean I know it frees up some of our money but I wonder what'll come of it. Now that he's injured Memphis has gotta be ticked about it. Where did Lucy drag those shoes off to? all the while watching me blubber. It probably occurred to him right where they were all the sudden, so he got up and went back to his closet, naturally. He eventually came back out, ready to go out the door, and said, "Do you wanna have prayers?" We said our family prayer, kissed each other goodbye, and that was it. I have still been a little confused about it all morning, though amused as well so that makes up for it.

I think he will read this and say, "What? That didn't happen." But it did happen folks. It did. And I'm bearing record of it to the world now on this blog post.

I held no ill will towards him as he happily bounded out the door. I just sat back, smiled and slowly shaking my head thought, "What am I gonna do with that guy? I sure love 'im," and let out a good, loud chuckle.

A couple hours passed and I texted him about the intense scrabble game we have going on our phones. Me: Did you see I passed going first on our game and it's your turn? Him: Yes, I saw last night. I got nothing so I might have to pass too. :) Me: Okay. Do you regret marrying me when I'm not nice to you all the time? Him: No I only regret making you upset so you feel like you have to be mean to me. Me: You're just saying that. I'm a bad beasty wife. (referring soley to pre-meltdown dish beastiness). Him: You're a wonderful wife, don't say that.

See? Absolutely no consciousness on his part of my meltdown or of his response to my blubberfest. It's pretty funny. Funny as in "haha" and funny as in interesting. Men and women really are that different but boy! I sure love 'im!

*Maybe some of you think I tell stories like this a lot. Maybe you think I am emotionally unstable. Maybe some of you who know Jason and don't know me and read this blog and think, "Wow. He is such an amazing guy. He sure married himself a doozey," and maybe you feel sorry for him. Because he is amazing. I guess I just want to assure you in case that's what you're thinking, that Jason's bread is buttered on both sides and he is one happy camper. :)*