I came back motivated to try to be the wife Spousehole wants me to be. Maybe lack of sleep was clouding my judgment, I don't know. But it is absolutely amazing to me how quickly Spousehole made me not even want to try. I'm still going to try, but I sure don't really want to after the way he has been.
First of all, he cleaned the house while I was gone to make sure I knew just how much more he can accomplish in a day than me. He did a lot and I thanked him. But again, he didn't do it for the gratitude, he did it to show me up. And he keeps reminding me of that.
He changed my log-in password on my computer. As overall administrator on the system, he can do this without having to know my original password. I had to beg and grovel to get him to tell me the new password. His idea was that if I could only use the computer if he logged me in, I would get more done. While this could be true, pissing me off is not the way to get me to do your bidding. I respond much better to the carrot than the stick. The asshole did give me the password and I reset it to something I can actually remember. But the fact that he can fuck with me like that will always be hanging over my head.
I met with the core of my son's teaching team (ASD teacher, kindergarten teacher, speech therapist, school psychologist) yesterday to try to figure out his problem with riding the bus. We really are running out of ideas. He'll be fine for a day or two, then break down again. It's very frustrating. And Spousehole's complete lack of interest in attending the meeting and in hearing about from me just piss me off further. From his point of view, apparently, it's all my fault even though Boy had the same problems when I was gone. Spousehole's theory of why it is my fault changes minute to minute, but his certainty that everything that ever fucking goes wrong is my fault never wavers.
My daughter's refusal to sleep in her own bed 99% of the time is also my fault, somehow, I was informed last night. So I put her in her own bed, but crawled in with her to try to convince her that her bed is wonderful place to sleep. For her, it may be. For me, not so much. I'm not tall, as you all know, but a toddler bed is NOT comfortable. And then I ended up moving later to the Boy's room, because he couldn't sleep without me. A twin bed is an improvement over the toddler bed, but not much when you factor in a wiggly 6-yr-old. And the Girl got up part way through the night and crawled into bed (my bed, damn it, that I haven't slept in for almost a full week now) with her Daddy, who did not take her back to her own room. So "mission get girl to sleep in her own bed" was once again a failure. But still my fault, I'm sure.
On the plus side of the ledger, I did hear from someone I've not had a lot of contact with recently and he managed to make me feel better with just a few simple words. Amazing how that works sometimes.
Some Friday tunes:
Vintage Bruce, 10th Avenue Freeze Out
Manfred Mann's Blinded by the Light (written by Bruce, of course)