Later that day, I asked the Captain if he wanted me to make him a grilled cheese sandwich. He had a migraine, and he looked fairly pathetic. Plus, we've reached the point in the "Buy No Food" experiment where you've really got to forage to find anything good to eat.
"Only if you want to," he said.
"This is a little like the comics," I said. "I don't ever want to help anyone. But I do, because I love you."
"Wow. That's a little selfish," he said.
"Really? I think it's completely unselfish. I don't want to help you, but I'm going to anyway. Isn't that what love's all about?"
Listen, by Sunday I was cranky and aggravated, so my responses may have been a tad skewed. I wasn't in the mood to do anything for anybody. I understand that these depressions in the valley of self-sacrifice happen most often when I'm feeling overwhelmed. Actually, "over-used" is more accurate. I do occasionally get overwhelmed by the volume of tasks I must complete. But I get totally pissy when I feel over-used, like I exist solely for the convenience of others. And by others, I mean my children.
The Captain doesn't make me feel that way. He's much more giving than I am in our relationship. He would have just made me the sandwich without my asking. But I consider him an able-bodied adult, so his lunch order never even makes it to the back of the diner. I've got too many other humans begging for my time, and it's exponentially worse on the weekends.
I don't like the weekends. It pains me to say it, but it's true. Especially in the spring. The weekends are so busy with pack commitments, there is no time for me. I barely get to sit down, much less write. And I need to write, people. I have a deadline. But there is so much planned over the next six weeks, I may be dead before I reach the line.
I'm going to have to explain my notion of love to my children. Help me, even if you don't want to. They're selfish, maybe they'll understand.
You are preaching to the choir, Madame. And again, I express my gratitude for uncoordinated children who aren't seriously interested in competitive sports.
ReplyDeleteI like the choir. They're sympathetic.
ReplyDeleteThat is not selfish. Almost everything we do, we do out of self-interest. Trying to make the Captain feel better was something you thought of, because you don't like seeing him look miserable. Nobody, likes to make sandwiches. Well I do, but not unless someone I love is then going to eat it.
ReplyDeleteI can imagine that you feel over-used. I am proud of myself when I manage to get up off the couch and do a load of laundry with clothes that only I have worn. I want to buy myself a gift just for making my own dinner. I can't imagine being responsible for five other people. I would be exhausted in about a day.
I am going to take the gift-buying under advisement...
DeleteThe raising-kids-years are a huge energy drain. They are also wonderful. When I look back on mine, and how many tasks I managed to juggle I wonder where I found that energy.
ReplyDeleteMaybe the Captain could take over one weekend responsibility on one of the days, to give you a two hour break, just so you can write, or soak in a tub undisturbed, or read a book. And you could do that for him on the other day. I know he works away from home during the week and probably relishes some down time on the weekend too. Do a trade off. It'll be worth it. (But then again, with five boys itineraries to handle that might be hard to accomplish.)
We do generally divide the duties. The Captain actually took Five to baseball practice even though he wanted to drill a hole in the side of his head. And he would let me write in peace if he had the hours to give. It's just finding the hours, because I can no longer stay up all night like when I was young! (she wrote, at 12:40 a.m.)
DeleteOMG Meg. Can you just say no to some of it. They'll hate you momentarily but they won't stop loving you. You haven't stopped loving me have you? Do a Triage. Assess all needs and then just pick the one or two that you can accomplish and tell them you are working. They can arrange for someone else to drive if they know they are not going to get you to take them. I'm not being simplistic, I don't think, because I know you can't say no and stick to it. Pick a two hour period in the day that you have to 'go to work' and tell them those two hours you will not be available. I know, I'm just The Mom.
ReplyDeleteYes, Mom.
DeleteI can do naught but sympathize and believe me, I do.
ReplyDeleteMostly, I'm just whining, so sympathy is expected and appreciated.
DeleteRight there with you, babe. Only, you know, with three fewer boys. And I agree - it's completely unselfish to help someone when you don't want to.
ReplyDeleteRight? I'm sure there are people in the world who derive great satisfaction from helping others, even people they don't know! I always aspire to their greatness, but I'm no Mother Teresa yet.
DeleteIt's not selfish, it's survival. And I don't mean that physically at this point (though we can harken back to the days of yore some other time), but rather a psychological/mental health survival level.
ReplyDeleteBut, please, for the love of God, sign Five's book report form. The horror! :)
PS You're magnificent!
I did sign it, plus I helped him creatively write the word "red." Some other time I'll transcribe the conversations we've had about my inability to accurately interpret his homework assignements.
DeleteOh God, I hate weekends too. Unless the minions are going off someplace and I can be alone. Then I love the weekends. But what I really, really loved was when I stayed home and wrote during the weeks. I hated the weekends then too, but at least I could get some writing done during the week.
ReplyDeleteYes. In the middle of these busy weekends I get a horrible case of the Greta Garbos-I just vant to be alone.
DeleteYep. Misery. From all angles.
ReplyDelete(I just typed *angels* at first, I always do that, switch the two, which I think is less about my dyslexia and more about my wish for all things to be angelic.)
Here's some sympathy, some energy, some minutes, and a hug. :)
Ooh Watchmen, so good! Oh wait, this is a post about selfishness...
ReplyDeleteTo perpetuate what some consider "the selfish gene" means you have to have kids, and make sure they make it to a procreating age. But you also can't do that, if you kill yourself. So there's always this precarious balance between your needs and your family's.
Well... at least your collective gene pool is happy. Someone oughta be. ;-)