Ok, so that you will understand?
I am going to reproduce here a conversation I had with Mark yesterday while the girls were still at school.
Here’s me . . .
“Geez, I wish we hadn’t promised the girls we would go to that fundraiser picnic at the school this evening. I am just so not in the mood to do that.”
Mark looks up, “We could cancel. I don’t really want to go either.”
“Really? The girls will be all kinds of pissed off if we cancel. They’ll be screaming about how we promised we would go, and how all of their friends are going, and how we are the worst parents in the whole world. I’m not sure I want to deal with that.”
Mark sighs, “Well, it’s up to you. I can deal with the tantrums if you can. I don’t really want to go to this picnic. You decide.”
I think for a minute, “OK, yes . . . let’s cancel. I know the girls will be mad, but I just don’t want to go.”
Mark is all agreement, “OK, fine. Good. I have some stuff I have to get done, anyway.”
“OK, but babe? They are going to be really pissed off, so I want to be sure we’re on the same page. We’re not going. Same page. You and me . . . in complete agreement.”
“Yeah, I told you I didn’t want to go.”
“OK, good.”
And then there pass a happy few hours in which I glory in the loveliness of being married to this man. Mark is all awesome, what with the listening and the communication and the agreement on a plan. Seriously, I am so fucking lucky to be married to this man. Happy sighs.
And then the girls come home.
All excited about the picnic.
So Mark and I sit them down and explain that there has been a change in plans.
And then there is gnashing of teeth and rending of garments and flashing of angry eyes.
And there are big rolling crocodile tears of tragedy and incredulity.
And there are screams of the YOU PROMISED WE COULD GO! and ALL OUR FRIENDS ARE GOING! and YOU GUYS ARE THE WORST PARENTS IN THE WORLD! sort.
But Mark and I stand strong. Because we are in this thing together.
Love this man.
And then, as the girls scream and rage and stomp about the room?
I hear these words from my beloved, “Well, maybe we should talk about this. It seems like this is really important to the girls, and they are making some good arguments.”
It is a good thing that my thoughts are not reality, because people?
In that instant, I think how lovely it would be for Mark to be thrown from the top of a very tall building.
I glare at him, “No. We talked about this. We are not going. End of story.”
But even as I say these words? I know I have lost the battle, because the girls are all over Mark with sweet adoring pleas and loving embraces.
All three of them, in my imagination . . . tossed from a skyscraper.
I fucking hate when Mark does this shit.
I am so pissed that I decide to put an end to this crap, “Listen, Mark? Girls? We said we were not going, and I am not going. Seriously. Not . . . going. I am walking away. This is the end of this conversation.”
And then I leave the room.
And then the three of them?
They pack a fucking picnic for three and start heading out the door.
And I hear Mark say, “Your mom doesn’t have to come. She doesn’t feel like going to the picnic. We can have fun without her.”
Yeah? Fuck you too, babe.
And then Maj and Kallan are sent to talk to me. All fake-ass and annoying.
Maj first, with fluttery beseeching eyelashes, “We want you to come, Mom. It will be more fun if you come.”
And Kallan throws her arms around me dramatically, “Pretty please? Please come . . . it will be fun.”
When I stare at them stonily, they turn happily and race back up to Mark.
“She’s not coming, Dad. Come on! Let’s go!”
And then they left.
They so did.
So fucking annoying.
This morning?
Mark tells me I am stubborn.
But I say?
Mark’s a dumb-ass.
Sometimes.
Grrr and double grrr. Fiance does this to me, but with his mother. Triple Grrr.
There’s no winning that fight let me tell you. I usually end up having to participate in said event and cannot simply stay at home and wallow in self pity.
Did you have a nice evening at least?
Naked dance party? Bonding with Julie perhaps? Sounds like a Soap Opera or something. Conversations With Julie.
I just read your tags and the one that says “Mark wants to be the favorite parent” made me literally laugh out loud.
And? I so hit reply accidentally. Sorry LeAnne!
I’m down with it. No problem :)
Mandie -
He so does.
Annoying.
LeAnne -
I did have a nice evening.
No self-pity. I prefer to wallow in bitterness and resentment.
So that was lovely.
And so much laughing . . . you guys with your comments about Julie yesterday?
Oh my god.
But Mom, all their friends were going!! Hahahaha, they played Mark like a fiddle.
Yes.
Mark is not musically talented.
But he can be played.
Um, stubborn? I think not. A dialogue was had, an agreement was reached, and a decision made. That makes Mark a flip-flopper, in this case. Or perhaps a waffle, whichever image works better.
I HATE it when Hub throws me under the bus. He usually likes to back over me a few times, too. Just for good measure.
Mark is weak where the girls are concerned, and he does like to swoop in and rescue them from my evil clutches.
YAY! Daddy is a superhero!
If only he could fly.
What with my tall-building plans, and all.
Grrrrr… what happened to the united front!?!? I can totally see this happening at our house.
Mark is sometimes unable to resist playing good cop to my bad mommy cop.
EVEN WHEN THAT IS NOT THE FUCKING PLAN.
He’s a dumb-ass.
That, would annoy me. It’s bad enough with my *dog* that she listens to the bf way way better than me… oh lord. Maybe we’ll just have no kids and get those nice cars…
Yes!
Get cars.
Much less sass from cars.
He could have his dream car, I could have mine, we could rescue animals… I’m liking this plan… all that love and money not taken up by kids….
Happy sighs at this lovely childless dream.
Oh…oh, these things drive me nuts. You agree to a plan, you’re co-parenting, you know where you are and who your married, to ..and then…the caving! The caving! Yes, of course we can go if it’s important to you. And there is no listening to the reminders that you’ve already discussed this, you already had a PLAN and you cannot STAND this any more. You cannot STAND this catering to everyone but your wife. You cannot STAND that that horrible piece of paint-by-numbers art has to come out onto the mantle every time his parents come over. It is bloody AWFUL and who CARES that grandma painted it in the nursing home?? What kind of husband are you if you can’t even tell you owned damned parents that you appreciate the gift but that it does NOT deserve a place of honor above the fireplace next to the class pictures you paid 79 fucking dollars for!! And for GODS sake would you PLEASE remember that we own a vacuum cleaner just once in the goddamn history of time without me telling you to?? And…and…
Wait…what?
The caving!
How I hate the caving.
I do not cave.
You have Grandma painted-by-numbers artwork on your mantle?
Snicker.
Thanks for that, babe.
Happy sighs.
Kris and Lori, I am literally laughing, and almost peeing at this exchange…Grandma Paint By Numbers? Lori, you should send it travelling around the world for Crazy In-law Awareness!
Ginny (how do I get my avatar to show up on comments?)
Happy sighs!
To link your gravatar to your comments, you need to go to http://www.gravatar.com and link the photo of your choosing to your email address.
Blogs will then pick it up and display the photo with your words.
And I love you!
I got it, I think! And, I love you too! AND, when can we start Crazy In-Law Awareness? I could be the president, although Ms. Paint By Numbers might get my vote!
Ms. Paint By Numbers?
She is going to be the QUEEN!
She fucking rocks!
ugh. not long ago, we planned to go to a birthday party for the child of a friend of my husband’s. the kids were excited. there was to be a bounce house!
on the day, my old man lost his mind completely and could not deal with going. but did not explain this to the kids. it was just WE ARE NOT GOING. feeling the need to have some kind of explanation, and not just random power thrown around by parents combined with disappointment, i made up that we weren’t going because i wasn’t feeling well. in other words, i became the party-pooper.
eventually, old man changed his mind and decided to try going after all, two hours late to the birthday party. who does that? so we went and it was fine, fun for kids and adults alike.
but do you see what happened there? not only did i have to be the bad guy, he got to the hero! how fucked up is that? ugh.
Marian -
Ugh.
This has happened at our house before.
I sacrifice myself in an attempt to save Mark from the girls’ wrath. I take the hit!
And then he changes his mind and decides he wants to do the thing after all.
And now I am the bad guy who tried to ruin all the fun.
And he is the hero who has saved the day.
So fucking annoying.
Yes.
yeah. my kids aren’t old enough yet to be wrathful, so what i’m doing is volunteering to take the hit so that what’s happening makes some kind of sense to them and they don’t experience it as just random meanness from their dad. who isn’t trying to be mean, but when he gets crazy like that, he isn’t able to see how he is behaving. i’m making it better for them, and saving him from looking like an asshole. and being bad mama, ugh. thanks for sharing this, kris. love.
Love you.
At our house?
When I think of how Mark is laying the groundwork for a future in which the girls get whatever they want by dividing us and then conquering Daddy?
Oh, how I look forward to the teenage years ahead.
Ugh.
i constantly have to remind myself that Maj and Kallan are not yet teenagers.
oh, boy.
I know, right?
Sigh.
You may not be able to throw him off a building… but you can totally spit on his sandwich before you give it to him.
It will make you feel better, all mature and grown-up like.
True.
You are evil and all hostile!
Babe? Want me to make you a sandwich?
Seriously? We are friends with a guy who was going through a NASTY divorce and custody arrangement battle and whenever he would stay at their house with their daughter (that was part of the dumb plan…he’d stay there when he had custody of her) he would get his wife’s toothbrush and rub it between his pubes…seriously. He said it made him feel better…and sometimes he’d clean the toilet with it too…
I can only imagine.
Ewwwwwww!
No, I would never seriously mess with his sandwich or his toothbrush.
I love Mark. Annoyed with him. But I love him.
Such disrespect I can’t even imagine.
Ewwwwwwww.
I know, right? Of course she left him b/c he was sick with a pretty serious immune oppressing disorder and she couldn’t handle him being sick. He’s now in remission and shares custody 50/50. But it was a rough divorce…and there was some nasty fighting (literally) happening.
Augh.
That is just hideous.
Heavy sighs.
At least you didn’t have to go to the picnic. And Mark? Did.
Yes.
But?
He had an awesome time, and I came off looking like a crazy anti-social mom who doesn’t want to engage in her family’s social life.
Fuck.
Who cares?!? You got a quiet house all to yourself to do whatever YOU wanted.
Unless this is like the order envy I get at restaurants. You know when you go out to eat with a girlfriend and think that your salad is going to be so yummy. And then she gets something greasy or deep fried and then you’re pissed that you didn’t order that instead.
…getting back to the point… Did he at least bring you some food?
If he had offered before the girls had arrived home to take them to the picnic by himself?
I would have been all happy.
But the way it actually played out?
Not so happy.
And nobody brought me anything.
I ate cold cereal for dinner.
Poor me.
Cocoa-Crispies.
Yum!
You are kidding, I love those cereals!!! I do that all the time too, the lame dinner plan at 9ish when I’m way lazy.
That being said, take a quick look here http://www.francoamericandream.com/wordless-whenever-my-addiction/ cause THESE are the very best cereals, they make a lame night cereal dinner a FEAST — but warning, they are hard to find :) Exotic cereals!! The girls will be so into you, you’ll be the favorite parent all over again!
Yay!
A soul mate! I cannot be bothered to make a meal when I am by myself. Plus also? I love cold cereal of the sweetened unhealthful variety.
Hold on, let me go check out your post.
OK, now?
I want Chocapic by Nestle. I have never even heard of that cereal before, but I want it.
And 20 boxes?
Your husband is awesome!
If you can share a mailing address with me, I will happily oblige.
Just 1 box to start…
I’ll let you think about it :)
I’d do that for my soul mate.
I am thinking.
We are soul-mates, but what if we are soul-mates of the I will show up at your front door and force you to eat this breakfast cereal nude and tied to a kitchen chair stalker sort?
That would not be good.
Or would it?
Hmmmm.
Thinking.
Maybe I just send it to the Governor of Oregon, but you will have to find where it is, and then convince them this package was for you.
Or you have a PO Box already, you do right?
(I’m no stalker, sorry to disappoint!)
But darling: you are a crazy anti-social mom.
I knew someone would call me out on that.
I should have known it would be you.
Reading this? I am soooo pissed off for you! That kind of shit happens in my house too. Always the bad mom. Always.
And, because I’m so immature, I would have carefully planned out going out and getting some ice cream from the ice cream shop just before they got home and then ate it in front of them, saying that ice cream was what I had planned to do instead of the picnic. Neener neener neener.
OK, that?
Would have been a brilliant plan!
Instead? The girls walked in the door all delighted that they had each gotten to eat TWO snow-cones at the picnic. Something I would never allow.
When Mark decides to throw me under the bus?
He makes sure all the tires hit me.
Oh yes, the phrase,
“I WAS going to buy you ice-cream, but if you’re going to be THAT way”
is uttered on our house WAY often!
You people are all geniusy!
Next time this happens?
I am so going out for ice cream and then gloating about it.
Yay!
You know me: Mr. Honest Opinion and Shit.
And I can say these things because I am a crazy anti-social dad.
It all works out in the end.
I am not always anti-social.
But I have to gear up for social.
So when I think I am off the hook?
I do not then want to be reeled back in.
I hate that. My ex was a long haul truck driver for most of our marriage, so when he was home, he was “awesome dad” and the kids got whatever they wanted. He felt guilty for not being there, so he tried to make up for it by spending money we didn’t have. And I always got to be the bad guy for saying no.
But you know what? When push comes to shove now, my 17 year old and 19 year old call me. They love their dad (as they should), but they trust me. Mwahahahahaha…..oh, sorry….
Snort!
Yes, I know it all works out. And I know the girls love me.
I just hate when Mark turns on me like that.
Plus also?
He just this moment said that he never really agreed that we shouldn’t go to the picnic, but he needed the girls to be on his side to make his argument.
I seriously may kill him today.
Justifiable homicide.
Definitely.
Makes me so glad my two children are now adults (mostly).
And my husband. I don’t know that he was ever a kid (he’s very Maj-like).
You?
Married to a Maj-like man?
I am all snorty at the thought!
I would have called my husband a douche bag, and that is the nicest I would have been, name calling wise. If I were you, I would have gone out to the movies and went and had dinner at a place they love to go to. But, then again, I enjoy going to dinner and the movies by myself.
Mark is all annoyed that I am still annoyed this morning.
I can be grudgy.
And I actually prefer to be home by myself.
Without the crabby part, though.
Sigh.
Sometimes? You’ve just got to milk the grudge.
I’m an Aries, first born and Italian, so I know all about grudges ;-)
Just sayin’
Pisces, first born, and Irish-Swedish.
I don’t know which of these things carries the day.
I only know that when I get angry?
I am grudgy.
MARK? WTF?
and then DENY it today?
IN A FIGHT. We are IN A FIGHT.
dont know how effective a fake fight will be but, Im totally pissed for you!
We’re not really fighting.
I am pissed at him, though.
He’s making me an apology lunch.
I think he just read today’s post.
Snort!