The Domestic Anti-Diva

This week I got lots of cute construction paper cards, a couple of plaster-of-Paris handprints, and some notes from Melancholy telling me how much she loves me. Aww…. Today, not so much. Lots of whining from the kids. I put the chicken in to marinate for dinner (hubby is grilling, since I told him that’s what’s on the menu for the day). I’ve cleaned the kitchen including mopping the floor. I still need to put away some laundry and clean the bathroom. Yippee.

Hubby is a wonderful guy, which I think I’ve mentioned before. He feeds the kids their breakfast every day, cooks dinner frequently, showers me with affection and just generally is the best hubby and daddy ever. But. Holidays like mother’s day just seem to paralyze him. I suspected that he hadn’t planned anything about a week ago. It was confirmed on Thursday night when I mentioned something about it to the kids. He just moaned and said, “Oh…. mother’s day… I’m already defeated.” Just fills you with the joy of anticipation, doesn’t it? Last night he had to run out to get milk after the kids were in bed. This morning he presented me with a mother’s day card… in Spanish. I don’t speak Spanish. But that’s all that was left at Walgreens at 8:00 pm on mother’s day eve.

See, here’s the thing. I don’t really care that much about cards or presents. Even though my primary “love language” is receiving gifts, I’ve learned that it’s not a language he’s fluent in. And generally speaking, that’s okay. I know plenty of guys who shower their wives with cards, flowers and gifts at every holiday, and yet are either absent or uninvolved in the nitty-gritty, day to day work of running a family. I am so fortunate, blessed even, to have a husband who knows what’s important. So I’ve learned to listen in the language he speaks so well, “acts of service.” And he speaks abundantly in that language.

But you know, once in a while, it would be nice to know that he was thinking about the fact that gifts do mean something to me. No, that’s not quite right. It’s not the gift, it’s the thought. Cliché but true. One of the best gifts he’s ever given me is the promise to fix something of mine that’s broken, something I dearly love. It doesn’t even matter that it’s not finished yet. Knowing that he thought about it and figured out what would mean something to me–that’s what I’m after. Not him sweating it out because there’s another holiday coming up, and, “Oh no, I’d better do something so she doesn’t get mad,” but thinking, “What unexpected thing could I do or get for her that would show her I was thinking of her, that I know what she would value?” Not thinking about not screwing up. Not worrying that I’m going to be ticked off or disappointed, and being paralyzed by that. Not just running to the store at the last possible minute and picking up whatever he thinks will pacify me.

He told me yesterday that he thought that mother’s day was next weekend, and that’s why he hadn’t done anything. But seriously. Putting aside all the advertisements that have been blanketing the newspapers and everything else for the past two or three weeks, and the fact that I asked him to mail cards to our mothers earlier this week, let’s suppose mother’s day really wasn’t until the 18th. Here it is a week before and he hasn’t done or planned anything. So how was it really going to turn out any differently a week from now?

It really wouldn’t take much. I’m not looking for gold or diamonds, or even a new computer. Just a little thought.

Post script, a couple of hours later: I’m over my little pity-party now, and ready to get back to planet reality. He really is the best guy in the world. <3