Showdown at O.K. Corral

Okay so that was a bit of a hard weekend.

On Saturday night Kennith and I had a huge argument – a real doozy.

We really do not fight often, but when we do it is a bit of a screamer. I get angry really quickly and fight from an emotional base. Kennith tends to remain a bit more logical and likes to have a pie chart with a laser pointer when he fights – the boy likes to put up a good argument with visuals.

Any the who, there we were having a big old argument, all good judgment had left, all logic had abandoned us. I had started the argument, because I had had a total loss of humour failure – total, gone, missing in action stuff. It had been boiling under for just over a week.

The weekend before I had been left alone for the weekend as Kennith had quite a bit on. To add to the stress Isabelle was suicidal-ill. She was ill, I was suicidal. We also had house guests.

Kennith had not really weighed this all up and decided to invite 10+ people over on Friday for a braai thing, and then waltzed off without making any effort to clean up.

I have been blessed with many coping mechanisms, but the one thing that actually makes it impossible for me to cope is a dirty house. Any façade I had of keeping it together crumbles when I see unmade beds and unwashed dishes. If you throw a few towels on the floor, and a number two floating in the bowel because children cannot flush, it is like taking a long stick and poking it in a bull’s eye.

Last weekend was especially challenging to say the least. I came into this week still shaking a little and clutching at my bleeding soul. However the week progressed nicely as it does until I realized that I was facing a long weekend.

Like all other un-productive employees I share a certain joy of long weekends. However as a mom with kids, I get a little scared as I realize that my right-hand Robin to my Batman is going to also be away. (My maid is going to be on leave, for you who are not picking up on my cryptic message method.)

I started to get a slight twitch in my left eye at the thought of this weekend unfolding and knowing what a tip my home was going to descend to. Problem is that I had not had sufficient healing time from the trauma I had experienced last weekend. I was definitely showing symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

To cut a long story short, Kennith had been offered tickets to the rugby game on Saturday night. Eye really started to twitch now.

I knew he was going to go and I started to feel really angry that again I was going to be left with all the shit, while he happily skipped off.

I really tried to put on my big girl panties and suck it up. Just go with the flow, be a trooper, say “no problem!” when inside I was seething.

I said “no problem…..” I may or may not have managed a smile on my face while saying it.

Saturday came around and Kennith decided to use all his lavatorial knowledge to fix our toilet. This resulted in him sitting up close and personal with said latrine and taking it apart. “What a handy bloke you have around.”– you may say. It was difficult to really “feel the love” for the toilet being repaired as I was making beds, tidying up and trying to prevent our home slipping in to nuclear disaster. I also had not slept on Thursday night, so I was feeling pretty tired, which did not help.

Hours of toilet repair later, Kennith called a plumber, then sat and played computer games in the room while plumber was there “for security reasons.”

Kennith then went to rugby.  I got really annoyed that he had not helped tidy up, do dishes, empty the nappy overflowing dustbin prior to him skipping out of the house with his mates to have a few beers and watch the game.

I spent the balance of the afternoon and the evening swearing under my breath, and cursing the day he was born – as you do!

Unfortunately for Kennith’s sake, he came home.

He further decided to push the envelope on this and invited friends in for drinks. Not thrilled, but attempted to look mildly pleased and hospitable – was I feeling any love right then, fek no.

Kennith has been making this rather annoying comment regarding my drinking wine. Every time we unscrew/un cork something the says “You are just going to quaff this, you really do not appreciate it.” – or something of that nature.

I have been smiling like an idiot, and nodding in humour, but it has been grinding me so much that I want to scream. But Emily Post teaches one to smile in tense social situations.

As luck would have it, I had not been reading Emily Post that day – I had been doing dishes, and cleaning up – so when Kennith made his now-not-original-and-now-so-annoying little comments, I really lost sight of the entire conversation and just went off pop.

It was not dissimiliar to the little Dutch girl who pulled their finger out of the dyke. Catastrophic disaster and huge loss of life.

That is pretty much how the fight got started. I lost my rag and had an absolute shit-fit – totally

Unfortunately Kennith could not plug in his Powerpoint presentation fast enough, so instead decided to retaliate with being mean. It was really one of those ones where you go to sleep cross, and wake up exhausted but still really angry.

Ah, good times…

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10 Comments

  1. Mel

     /  April 7, 2010

    Reading this makes me boil up…..men dont get it, do they….

    Sigh….

    My attitude has been the we go out together or not at all! (because if he comes home pissed, gets cranky cause baby wakes up and he cant sleep in- i will be arrested for murder! Lucky for me (and him) he agrees.

    Reply
    • reluctantmom

       /  April 7, 2010

      Its a hard one for us to manage. But the issue on this one was not the fact that he went out without me, which was sort of okay. The part where I dropped the mother load, was where he went out, left me with the kids, and also with all the unwashed dishes, the house that looked like a bomb had gone off and so on. That is the part where what was left of my sanity went “pop!”

      Reply
  2. I agree wholeheartedly … but I too feel that painful guilt, deep within when I leave the baby. Why is it that men don’t??? My husband cracked last night when our normally angelic baby screamed for two straight hours because of his top teeth coming through. But like, he CRACKED. Fucking ridiculous … I had a happy pill and some (read as “all of the” Sally Williams milk chocolate covered honey & almod nougat for breakfast this morning to stop myself from smothering him to death with his pillow as he SNORED away till 8 this morning. Did you say something about therapy?

    Reply
  3. Men are incredible. Most of the time in the most negative way. We also have really “mean” fights where they can last for DAYS. I am REALLY good at ignoring him, his phone calls, his comments about being hungry or wanting a cup of tea. I would LOVE to see a weekend go by where HE is left with the baby ALL ON HIS OWN. As if. He wouldn’t know what Luca likes for lunch, the fact that he HATES sitting in his playpen for longer than 10 minutes or that he loves Rooibos tea. Men. Men. Men. Makes me wonder why we’re all not laserbeams. (My sister’s clever alias for lesbians).

    Reply
  4. Kiara

     /  March 25, 2010

    I am so glad I am not the only one who cant cope with a dirty house. I try to ignore it and just relax as my darling husband does but my brain is just not programmed like his 🙂

    Hope you guys have sorted it out 🙂

    Once again I LOVE your blog, I check it all the time for new postings 🙂

    Reply
  5. Tania

     /  March 24, 2010

    Argh… Sigh… Jason used to pull these stints on me ALL the time and now and again still manages to get 1 past me… most times I block him and say I want to go along even though I would rather stay home. I usually end up enjoying myself and it was then Jason’s task to find a babysitter for the kids. 🙂

    Reply
    • reluctantmom

       /  March 24, 2010

      For me it is not really the staying at home with the kids that is the problem, because in some cases I would prefer it. It is the issue regarding sharing the load for the house. Kids I can cope with – I cannot cope with the house looking like a shit house, and being left with that to sort out

      Reply
      • I also actually LOVE staying at home with my monkey. I think it’s healthy to have time apart from your partner/fiance/husband … in fact, I HAVE TO HAVE time away from him 😀

        Reply
        • reluctantmom

           /  March 26, 2010

          Definitely – but my time apart should not always include the kids, while his time apart includes beer and his mates. I also need guilt-free time out – the problem is the guilt free part, as I feel so bad when I skip out the door without the kids. But that is my stuff to deal with. I agree though, that if Kennith spent a few weekend days that ran into weekend nights with the kids – and without any help – he might start to empathise with me at how challenging it is, and why I totally flip my lid when he suggests it – and LEAVES WITH THE FEKN DISHES as well.

          As you can clearly see, I may need more therapy to work through my issues …..

          Reply
          • I agree wholeheartedly … but I too feel that painful guilt, deep within when I leave the baby. Why is it that men don’t??? My husband cracked last night when our normally angelic baby screamed for two straight hours because of his top teeth coming through. But like, he CRACKED. Fucking ridiculous … I had a happy pill and some (read as “all of the” Sally Williams milk chocolate covered honey & almod nougat for breakfast this morning to stop myself from smothering him to death with his pillow as he SNORED away till 8 this morning. Did you say something about therapy?

            Reply

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