I totally agree. My husband and I are trying to adapt to being a “team”. It’s annoying as fuck difficult having someone all up in your space. In most new marriages, you both are trying to not piss off the other one. You’re listening closely when they tell you something you did irritated them. You try not to do it again.
You share the bills and you both put all your money into the same account. Because you are a “team”.
That might not happen immediately, I totally get it. At first one of you may have an ego issue and fight the system. That person, in my situation it’s the male counterpart, might try to hold onto their money and tell the other one “I can only give this much towards bills this pay period” and then the other one has to figure out how to make ends meet. But this gets ironed out because it is, after all, a new concept to the testosterone poisoned male man who has “suddenly” found himself in a “partnership” instead of being a selfish bastard....oops, I meant silly BACHELOR.
On top of trying to merge finances, you’re trying to merge your habits of living. You’re figuring out the other ones quirks. You’re figuring out which one of you suddenly snores like a freight train even though you can’t recall any snoring going on when you were just dating.
You’re figuring out which one of you decides deodorant is a necessity. You notice you aren’t the one that smells like rotting flesh that has been sitting in the desert sun for 12 years, because the last you checked, people fucking STINK. Unless they are A CHILD!
You buy the deodorant that he assumed you would have bought him months ago when he ran out and telepathically sent you the request for said deodorant.
Telepathically because why speak? You are partners. You are merging. You are one with the other. You are rocking the marriage bullshit phenomenon. Rocking it. For real.
You come up with a system - who takes out the trash, picks up the dog shit, or who manages the vehicle maintenance. You may think that the man of the house most often does the dirty work, and you find yourself taking out bag after bag AFTER BAG of trash, but don’t worry, he’s new here, he’ll catch on.
You get into silly disagreements, and maybe find yourself looking at him as if he’s grown a second head, but have no fear....he means well when he sees you carry the last of 15 bags of groceries in and he says, “Is there anymore out there I need to bring in?”
No, no dear. I got them. Don’t sweat it. (Unless you are wearing that deodorant stuff....then go ahead and sweat all you want.)
It’s all new to him, this marriage, this partnership.
Even after twelve years some time has passed, it’s still new, so you gotta cut him some slack. Or just cut him. Your choice.
“Do we have any pasta?”, he asks one night when he decides he’s making dinner. You say, “Yes. Yes we do.” He asks, “Where would it be?” Hmmmm...”In the cupboard, you silly man. The cupboard in the kitchen.” Because where else do you keep pasta?
It’s ok. He’s new here.
Still.
This “beginning” of a partnership can be pure hell sometimes. Each day trying to figure out who’s making dinner, who feeds the animals, who makes the bed, or who cares for the children.....it can be exhausting....when one half of the couple is new to this.
It’s ALL new. Like that movie...what was it called? With Bill Murray?? Oh!!!
Groundhog Day!!!
Over and over and OVER again you guide him in the daily activities that need to take place each day. You know....like asking him to pick up his socks from the living room floor. And the bedroom floor. Thank God for the dog!
You continue on as if after 12 years of a partnership it’s completely NORMAL to not know your wife hates Mexican rice. It’s all good. You got this.
It shouldn’t matter that he was nearly 40 years old when the partnership began. He was a bachelor until then. He was comfortable flicking his ashes in the tub as he sat on the toilet and took a dump. You can help him break that habit. Keep working on it. He’ll eventually catch on to what’s considered acceptable human behavior.
Maybe.
He’s trying. He wants things to go smoothly. From making dinners to grocery shopping. He’s trying to adult.
He comes up with a plan so that we both know what’s needed from the store at any given time. He downloads a grocery list app to his phone. He’s excited. He downloads it to yours. You can both add to the list on your phones, and the other one can see the updated list on their phone. You think, what the flying fuck is this shit? Why’s he controlling your shopping experience? Why? Oh, that’s right, he’s new at this. Play the game. Makes him feel like he’s got a perfect plan. One that will keep the “shopper”, aka YOU, from running to the store every fucking day.
So the app is used. Mostly by you, but he’s done his part, he downloaded it to both phones, for FOX sake. You mean you want him to actually USE it too?
I know, this marriage thing, partnership, is a lot of work. We are no longer separate beings. He’s no longer a bachelor living with his bachelor brother. I’m no longer a single mom with one child. We have merged. We are one. One what?
One fucking hot mess. That’s what we are. Today he asked what was needed from the store because he was running out to get lightbulbs. I said, “There’s a short list of things....like Diet Coke, dog treats, DEODORANT...”. He says, “Oh, ok. I can do that.”
Yay!
Then he says, “Where’s the list?”
Ummm......
So, as we continue to “merge” our lives, in the PARTNERSHIP, twelve fucking years later, we still don’t have a system. He doesn’t know I despise Mexican rice and will still make it and want kudos for making dinner. I take out the trash most days. I feed the animals and pick up a kazillion piles of dog shit each week. I make the bed.
But I need to remember, TWELVE YEARS later, he’s NEW at this. He’ll catch on.
Or not.
Peace out!!
Just T.
Peace out!!
Just T.
