Benefits of Staying Married

Saturday was fun. I worked all day, and then came home to a mess, again. See, despite promises to the contrary, G still wants to pretend that he's single and has nothing else better to do. Sometimes he doesn't want to have kids, doesn't want to have responsibilities, and sure doesn't want to be married to me. I get that. It's leftover quarter life crisis, I guess. But you know what? You still need to clean up your dishes. Eventually, he did, but a fight ensued, as usual.

Sunday, we went to church (guess we both really needed it, at that point). Then we went to the O's game. G had five tickets in the box. Meaning, the box of his place of employment. That equals air conditioning, food, and just a more pleasant time than upper reserve seats. The kids didn't pay much attention to the game, but they seemed to enjoy themselves. They each got their My First O's Game certificates, although it wasn't necessarily their first. I remember one first with Cameron, when she was still in the infant carrier seat. We were sitting in the lower seats, so still a good spot. Someone in front of me ordered peanuts from one of the vendors. In the spirit of stadium life, the vendor threw them to the man...only my head got in the way. Being whacked, unsuspectingly, in the back of the head with a stadium sized bag of peanuts was not so pleasant. Needless to say, I had a headache for the rest of the afternoon, and seriously considered complaining to Fan Assistance. If you're not that good a shot, maybe you should just pass the peanuts, know what I mean?? Anyway, the game was mostly fun. I knew a couple of G's coworkers who were there, and we chatted. I tried to talk to G a couple of times, but he kept blowing me off, or talking right over top of me. Maybe he was so starved for non-Amy conversation that he just couldn't help it. He recently revealed (not that I didn't suspect) that I really get on his nerves. Maybe it's similar to me talking to small people all day long...and by the end of the day, I REALLY want to talk to some adults. Even the clerk at the grocery store-anyone. At one point, I squished up next to him on the small couch, so as to make room for another couple, should they want to sit down. "Get off me! Go sit on Kevin's lap!" was what he told me.

Needless to say, I went out onto the balcony with my kids, and Pink Shirt Man for the rest of the game. Pink Shirt Man was another employee of G's company, who lives in Michigan. He had come down from Grand Rapids with his three daughters to watch the Orioles get whooped by his beloved Detroit Tigers. I talked more with Pink Shirt Man in five minutes than I did with G all day. And then, of course, G wondered what was wrong with me. I always think that's absolutely astounding! How can you be surprised at someone's reaction, after you treat them like shit?

After the game, we went to G Sr's house for dinner. That went pretty well. I got to have conversation with my MIL (ok, not really my MIL, but they're common-law-married by now). I was happy that I didn't have to cook all day. I was also happy that G Jr changed Noah's nasty pull-up. Nasty, as in, pull-up was thrown away, and shorts were put into a grocery bag. Pregnant bellies and noses don't do so well with such pull-ups. See, my son refuses to poo on the potty, still. He either goes in his sleep, because he can't hold it anymore, or he sneaks off and poops in the pull-up. I can't wait till he's out of this stage.

So, today I was reading about the benefits of staying married. Sometimes I truly wonder. Mostly, I wonder why I want to stay married to someone who, at times, so obviously doesn't want to be married to me. I know that sometimes he does. Lately, it just seems like more of three years ago--he just wants to do his thing. Don't we all.

Wrench

So, we are in the middle of a huge war. I received a call from the principal today that Collin was accepted for kindergarten this year. I told G, and he immediately started on his tirade about his horrible childhood. He claims he was an outcast and had no friends, and was beaten up daily. Perhaps he had a hard time for a while, but I just don't believe that was the case for his entire childhood. Additionally, who knows how much of that was personality based picking versus stature picking. Nevertheless, I stand by my opinion that he is projecting his past experiences on his child. I stand by all the things I've already said, as well as those of the psychologists and the doctor...not to mention my friends and family. His reasoning is invalid, to me, because it's just not reasonable. He has one con, and no pros. He has no other sides to the situation-just his one feeling...that my son is short for his age, so we should hold him back a year. I have already asked him if he will insist on holding the younger boy back-he will not. He claims it's simply because his birthday is three months earlier in the year. I said, well, that negates your whole theory then, because three months won't make a bit of difference in either of their heights. Both of them are always going to be short, until the day they die.

G is also is like a used car salesman. He has a retort and an excuse for everything. It makes me want to put a fork in my eye. He talks and twist things well out of proportion. Additionally, he's not as straightforward as I once believed him to be. To put it lightly, I take everything he says with a grain of salt. And he always has his own agenda.

So, he gave his ultimatum. I keep Collin home a year, or he will go to the school and tell them that he doesn't want him to attend. He said we could put him into a Montessori school (someone obviously put the bug in his ear about that), but that's just another excuse, because there is no way we can afford it...not to mention that pre-k is not the stimulation that he needs. The thing I hate the most about this is that he's telling my son that he's got something wrong with him. Collin has no problem with himself--if he were so concerned, why would he jeapardize that?!

I'm going to the school tomorrow to turn in the rest of my paperwork and be briefed on the test results. It makes me crazy that he's not on the same page as me. He will not listen to reason, and he doesn't respect what I have to say. He doesn't accept that raising these kids has been my job for the past 9 years, and I've been mostly responsible for everything in their lives. Why should he throw a wrench into what I feel is best now? I have lost even more respect for him. I honestly don't know where we're going to go from here.