I love my Husband... A gentle reminder to myself

As friends know, I am very much in love with my husband. I cannot imagine my life without him, most days. He is kind and warm and spoils me and once in a while dares to even say no which is laughable and adorable. But then there are times when I look at him and think "Dude, what?". Like the other night when I made dinner, which was awesome by the way, I sprinkled some grated cheese on top of his food and he exclaimed "Look at all the cheese that you grated!" to which I responded "It came grated." to which he responded "That's amazing!". Dude, what? Is this new to you? But I let that one go.

One thing that I am still letting go is from last Friday. My dear and lovely husband started Friday morning by telling me he invited his parents over for that evening. Friday morning at 7:36 is not the time to inform me that we are having guests over in 10 hours. You might not have picked up on this but I am a tiny bit anal retentive. I don't just host a brunch, I invite my friends to feast upon the myriad of choices and to partake in Bachannalian consumption until their innards burst with joy. I take pride in overcooking and overfeeding and drinking happily throughout the orgy of gastronomy I have provided with a smug smug look on my face. I don't do half assed hosting. So I informed him calmly that no, that evening would not be possible and that Sunday morning would be much much better. After he escaped from my bone crushing grip, he agreed.

After our talk I made my way to work, looking forward to the weekend. An hour later I received a text from my dear husband telling me that the daycare thinks that our amazing perfect son should see a therapist and oh, yes, I should work fewer hours and spend more time with him. Well, gee, why didn't I think about that before! I'll just quit my job. And wait! Did she suggest a therapist? For a two year old? What's he going to tell them? Deep hidden angst about apple sauce or post tramautic stress from seeing Teddy in the washing machine? Instant cold sore broke out on my lip. I kid you not. I spent the rest of the day imagining my son being analysed by a Freud thumper and me quitting my job and serving tater tots for dinner because that is all we would be able to AFFORD!!

It was not a good day and when I got home it just got worse. I asked the Husband about the convo he had had at the daycare and he told me a little bit more. Then he went on to tell me that he told them that I would be off for 4 months soon and would be able to spend more time with the Kid. I responded something like this:

"YOU TOLD THEM WHAT?!?! I WILL STILL BE BRINGING HIM TO DAYCARE EVEN WHEN I AM OFF AND WE STILL ARE EMPLOYING THE NANNY AND NOW THEY ARE GOING TO THINK I AM AN EVEN WORSE MOTHER??? ARE YOU ON CRACK?!?! DAMMIT, MAN! THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH FOR MAKING ME SEEM LIKE THE WORST MOTHER IN THE WORLD!!! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WOMEN ARE JUDGED ALL THE EFFING TIME WHEN IT COMES TO OUR KIDS AND ALL THEY ARE GOING TO THINK IS THAT I WILL BE ON THE SOFA CACKLING ABOUT HAVING ME TIME EATING MOTHER LOVING BONBONS WHILE WEARING A KAFTAN!"

Needless to say we didn't talk to each other for a few hours after that. I might have overreacted. The weekend passed by quickly and I found a child therapist who seems great and I look forward to meeting her. But this story isn't over yet.

Tuesday night over dinner, the Husband also mentioned another thing he forgot to mention from his convo from the daycare. Apparently they suggested to get the Kid's hearing checked and he should perhaps see a speech therapist. Upon hearing this, I set down my knife and looked at my dear darling husband and asked sweetly "When they suggested a therapist last Friday, do you mean they meant a speech therapist?" He shrugged and said "Maybe." I have aged 15 years. He's not allowed to talk to adults anymore. The man will kill me.