i have no doubt that, given the sole responsibility of raising our daughters, my husband would be able to handle the task with no problems. granted, there have been times when he has dressed our youngest daughter and fixed her hair and you could just tell that the entire ensemble was done my a male (my apologies to all of you guys who actually know how to put up a ponytail or add a barrette to their daughter's hair and it look good). nonetheless, if he had to do it all, day in and day out with no help, i know he would rise to the occasion.
this being said, having established that he could raise our girls by himself if need be, i have to question why it appears that he has no clue whatsoever what it takes to raise them whenever i'm around?
here's a snapshot of any given weekday morning at our house:
alarm goes off...attempts to take shower thwarted by ella's numerous trips into the bathroom telling me she's hungry...shouts made from the bathroom at madelyn to fix her sister some breakfast...showering complete, after numerous interruptions...30 minutes of wardrobe change in madelyn's room...ella screaming because she doesn't like the way madelyn has fixed her hair...refixing of ella's hair, which often requires cutting out a tangled ponytail holder...refixing of madelyn's hair because, although she thinks she can do it herself, it's questionable whether or not she actually used a brush...10 minutes of chasing delilah around the house to put her back in her crate...stumble out the door, 10 minutes past schedule, oftentimes with mascara streaked down my face from a stress-induced sobbing fit that occurred at some point between realizing that we forgot to do homework the night before and discovering that i failed to dress ella in the right "color of the day" for daycare.
and where is daddy during this morning ritual? in bed. either genuinely asleep, or just pretending to be asleep and oblivious to it all so that he doesn't have to participate in the school morning madness.
a few weeks ago, when he was signing madelyn up for soccer (yes, i must commend him for this feat, as taking care of registration, fee pay, and buying her equipment was all him) he started asking me questions as part of the registration process.
"who's madelyn's pediatrician?" he asked.
i had just found the girls a doctor since moving to bowling green, so this wasn't such a far-fetched question.
"bowling green pediatrics and internal medicine," i responded.
"ok..now, let's see...where does she go to school?"
"what? are you kidding me? you don't know what school she goes to?" i was seriously beside myself. how on earth could he not know? had he not been the one to register her for school because he happened to be off work that day? did he not look at the name of the school plastered on the side of the building? what was he going to ask next, her middle name?
it was a few weeks later that he decided to pick ella up early from daycare. i usually pick her up after work, as well as drop her off before work. as well as take madelyn to school at 7:00 every morning. but i digress.
"where does ella go to daycare?" he questioned.
"seriously? um, she goes to first baptist...you knew that."
"uh, no i didn't, you've never told me where she goes. where is it? i think i'm going to go ahead and pick her up."
i was dumbfounded. first, he didn't know what school his oldest child attends, despite the fact that he physically drove to the school and registered her. and now he has no clue who cares for his youngest child during the day?
little did he know that this simple question would initiate an infuriated text (because i am so much better at writing how i feel than verbally expressing it) that would ramble on about him needing to be more active in his children's lives, and questioned how he could be so oblivious to what goes on around him; how i feel that i do everything myself and that i shouldn't have to tell him or ask him to do something when it comes to the girls, he should just automatically do it. like get up in the mornings and help me get them ready instead of assuming i have it under control (does the threat "if you don't get your shoes on right this second, i'm going to take every shoe in that closet and give them away" sound like i have it under control?) maybe the text was a bit extreme, but at that moment, i felt it was warranted.
but the icing on the cake was last friday when it was "brown" day at ella's daycare. i had already screwed up earlier in the week by sending her in yellow on "orange" day, so i had to make sure i was prepared for this day's events. they had been studying vegetables, and all week they had dressed in autumn and veggie colors (greens, reds, yellows). on this particular day, her calendar said that she was to wear brown (check!) and pack a healthy lunch, complete with a veggie snack (check!) and bring it in a brown lunch sack. oh...ok. we didn't have any brown lunch sacks because, well, we don't use them. madelyn has taken her lunch to school once this year, but she took it in a lunchbox. the night before, i had decided that i would stop by the dollar general market by our house and pick up a package of lunch sacks the next morning. no biggie.
the problem is that i was running late on friday. it all started the night before when brian begged me to stay up and watch a tv show with him, and after i continued to decline because i was tired and had to get up early the following day, he made me an offer i couldn't refuse.
"i'll take madelyn to school tomorrow morning, how about that?" he asked. "that will give you an extra 30 minutes."
so i stayed up.
first, he acted shocked when i shook him awake on friday morning.
"what do you want?" he asked, half asleep.
"um, you're taking madelyn to school, remember?"
"aw...ok... [sigh]...i didn't know you were serious..."
"well, you offered, so yeah...i mean, i wouldn't really care, but i'm kinda running late."
so he took her. but before he left, i mentioned how i really needed to stop by the dollar store because ella had to have a brown paper lunch sack. he acknowledged my comment and left.
somewhere in the back of my mind, i thought that he may stop and get the brown sack. i mean, he was going to be out anyway, and he knew that i had to have it. so i stuck around the house for a while before leaving. and i waited....
at about 7:30, which is about 5 minutes earlier than the very latest conceivable time that i need to leave my house in order to drop ella off at daycare and make it to work on time, brian walks through the door. with a sack of breakfast from hardees. i watched as he removed a few wrapped breakfast sandwiches and set them on the counter and then handed me the empty sack.
"there ya go! ella's brown bag!"
at that very moment, i didn't know whether to be mad or whether to feel sorry for my husband for not having a clue. so i decided to semi-calmly explain that i wasn't taking our daughter's lunch to daycare in a used, greasy fast-food restaurant sack, and then i walked out the door.
my husband is wonderful in so many ways. he cooks like no other, which is awesome because i don't. he goes grocery shopping. he knows his way around a kroger store like the back of his hand. he knows how to bargain shop. the other day, he was so proud when he bought 2 carts full of groceries--meat included--for $120. he keeps his closet neat and does his own laundry. he takes madelyn to soccer practice when his work schedule allows. and if he's off work, he'll have dinner cooked and madelyn's homework will be finished before i even get home. and he loves his girls with all his heart. but god bless him, sometimes he just doesn't get it. and i have a greasy hardees sack in the trash can to prove it.
