Being jealous of my husband... Confessions of a stay-at-home mom

Can I just be real for a minute?

I've learned something in the past couple of weeks that I am so afraid to admit that the thought of typing my next sentence makes me sweat...

(cue sweating... ugh! I HATE to sweat!!)

I am jealous of my husband.

(Deep breath...)

I am jealous of my husband.

My name is Lindsay... and I am jealous of my husband.

Joey got a raise last week. Like... a big one. I am SO proud of him! He deserves every word of encouragement from his boss and every penny he works so hard to earn.

I was super excited for him ... for about 5 minutes.

And then I got jealous... of my husband.

I found myself wondering where MY boss was... the one who could encourage ME and give ME a list of things I do well and things I could work on in my every day role. I wondered when MY company handed out bonuses... first quarter or last? When can I expect a raise? Where would I get a promotion? How could I work MY way up in the company? When is it ok to brag about the amazing things I'VE accomplished in my job? 

It hit me hard... I am jealous of my husband.

This realization paralyzed me in the kitchen one night... I couldn't move.

How can I be satisfied in the place God has put me if there's even a hint of jealousy in my heart?

I wasn't.

And how can I fully commit myself to my work... to my kids and my family... if I can't find that satisfaction?

I wasn't.

It's not a good place to be...

but it hit me with such an impact that I couldn't just move on... I couldn't just sweep it under the rug and forget it...

so I did what I do...

I closed myself off.

Life is easier that way, after all...

for a while.

And then it creeps in... It wasn't possible for me to speak kindness into my husband's life... I didn't know the words anymore. I couldn't be proud of him or celebrate with him... the ability to share in his success was gone. I didn't want to know about his day and I didn't care about what was going on in his heart.

This worked for me for a couple of days until I realized something else that stopped me in my tracks...

The only common denominator in my choice to take part in the joys of life that my husband wants so badly to share with me or to separate myself from joy entirely...

was me.

I was the problem...

not his success or his job or his raise or his happiness...

it was all me.

All I ever wanted to be growing up was a mommy... it was an 'aspiration' that Joey just didn't understand when we were dating. 

aspiration; the strong desire to achieve something, such as success.

How is staying at home every day, playing with kids an 'aspiration'?

I wanted to be the main influence in our kids' lives like my mom was for us... I wanted to be present in the ups and downs of growing up... I wanted to teach them and be their confidante, their security for as long as they would let me... and selfishly, I wanted to be the one responsible for what they learned and how they use it...

I still want that.... every single day. And I know how incredibly blessed I am that I get to do exactly what I 'aspired' to do my whole life. 

But...

Sometimes changing diapers, cleaning up puke, knowing the bowel movement schedule of every member of my family, being the bad guy, disciplining the same behavior over and over and over and over and over and over and over again gets mundane... it gets boring and dirty and exhausting. And the progress is slow in this job of mine... sometimes it's YEARS before you see the end result of the hard work you've done.

There are days when I long for adult conversation ...or a few hours alone in my car... or a fancy dinner out with colleagues... or to close my office door ... or a hotel bed all to myself... 

or to have my kids run into my arms every night because they missed me all day. I want them to miss me!

 Joey allowed me to close myself off for a couple days ... he knows me and knew I needed some time to process whatever it was that had changed me so quickly.

He cornered me in the kitchen this weekend ...

He's pretty big...

I couldn't get away...

So I confessed...

Without eye contact...

take that you big man!

(but I was super embarrassed and scared to death...)

"I'm jealous of you! I'm so proud of you and am thankful every day for how hard you work so our family can be comfortable and so I can live my dream, but lately I've been jealous of you. I don't have a boss who encourages me and shows me how to improve or tells me what's next in my career if I keep working hard. I don't get raises... ok yes, I get hugs and kisses from the kids and they run to me when they're scared or hurt... but sometimes, most times... that's not enough! I'd love to look forward to every Thursday because that's when I get paid. I need you to encourage me more... and maybe I need to learn how to ask for it.  I'll work on that. Don't get me wrong... YOU are not my boss! You're just the only one who's opinion matters to me when it comes to the job I do and how well I do it... And you do a wonderful job at telling me what a good mom and wife I am... You DO! But... I need to hear from you more. Please."

And then I looked at him... I braced myself for a lecture on how selfish I am and how I need to eat my words and take my own advice and find a job if I'm so unhappy...

 Because my rant deserved all of the above.

But after my rant, when I finally looked at him, his eyes loved me and he simply said...

"Ok."

(And then we made out because, well... That 'ok' was pretty damn sexy!)

(Sorry.)

And it was done.

My jealousy wasn't about his amazing success or raise...

All of my resentment and jealousy and anger toward him was completely misguided... and could have been completely avoided...

If I had simply asked for more.

I have no problem asking for seconds of cake or wine or frozen yogurt or shoes or pedicures...

So why can't I ask for more encouragement, too?

Now ladies... don't give me some lecture on how God is enough and if I would just focus on Him more I would find all of the fulfillment I need.

That's bullshit.

(Sorry.)

And you know it.

My attitude is a direct reflection of my relationship with the Lord... that's true.

But He put us HERE... on Earth... where our lives are molded around some dirty stuff; laundry, puke, mean people, deals gone bad, mortgages, and bowel movement schedules.

That's the truth.

And sometimes ... most times... my relationship with Him is a direct reflection of the mess I've created in my daily life.

So...

My goal this year is to learn how to ask for more...

more encouragement, more 'me' time, more PDA, more help, more date nights, more girls' nights, more play dates, more conversation, more sex, more romance, more honesty, more family nights, more nights away, more surprises, more listening, more wine...

more love.

Just more.

Because all of those things are the good things we have this side of perfection.

And in this dirty life, getting more always means wanting more... but life is so dirty that more of the good things isn't a bad thing, right?!

Asking for it is the hard part.

And I'll do my best to return the favor...

because even though life's not fair and it can get pretty dirty, the very best part is knowing that you've done a little more for someone else, too.

Try both; Ask for more... And then give more. 

Fulfillment.

It works.

Every man and his threesome...

This post is about periods.

And I will use a bad word.

Don't say I didn't warn you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at age 13, she decided to grace me with her presence at school.

Our relationship got off on the wrong foot and only went downhill from there.

We did have a few years of our 'honeymoon phase' when we really, did quite well together ...

In our early years, while I waited patiently for the promises that come with a girl's first period... curves in all the right places, new emotions and interests, and budding maturity... we sampled ice cream as we tried to choose which flavor would suit us, tested a few heating pads and found one we both liked, grew close to our dermatologist, tried on many brands of 'product' for size and argued over which one was best for our lifestyle, we took moonlit walks and dreamed of having babies....

I'm still waiting on those curves.

Our relationship, while never consisting of life-long potential, was bearable... predictable.

And then we got married.

As my soon-to-be husband and I travelled through 2 months of pre-marital counseling, we were prepared the best ways possible for the many challenges that we would face as husband and wife...

finances, house-hold chores, Biblical roles within marriage, jobs, parenting... we covered them all.

All but one.

Why does no one prepare a new husband and wife for the inevitable havoc that a woman's period will wreak within the precious walls of marriage?!

Joey had a mom and a sister, yes... but he was NOT ready for life with me and my period!!

My poor husband. Unbeknownst to him, the term 'threesome' would mean something entirely different in the walls of marriage....

and it wouldn't be a dream come true.

Let's define 'period'.... a blood-bath of hormones and pain and well, blood that repeats itself every 2.5-3 weeks of every year.

If you're wondering why I keep referring to my period as 'her' it's because a period is not that we 'do... it's not a verb. It's not something that is done to us... it's not an explanation of something. A period is a noun.... not a place, not a thing... a single entity that consists of it's own emotions and agenda and personality. She.

She changes everything....

As hard as we try to neatly wrap and fold and double flush, there's only so much we can do....  we're well aware of how disgusting it is to take out the trash. In the same way, we dig and bury and hide any evidence in the laundry pile the best we can. The household's toilet paper use and the monthly budget... both affected greatly by our unwelcome monthly guest. We know that she has erased any chance our husband ever had of being entitled to having a bad day.... ever. Our sex life changes, too... but it's no secret that, at times, she is our only not-so-secret weapon.

And the hormones..... are completely misunderstood!

Let me explain...

When 'on the rag', yes, hormones change... commercials become sadder (or happier... or scarier...), a simple question or well-intentioned comment become off-handed and are an open invitation to the pent-up, smart-ass response we've been secretly harboring, and a normally welcomed hug warrants the biting off of your head.

But there's another side to the 'bitch' that doesn't get quite enough credit and I'd like to introduce her...

the part of us that is 'lazy' is the part that cringes every time we stand up or bends over or picks up a child because we are reminded each time we do of where the word 'tide' came from in the term 'crimson tide'... and there's no stopping it.

 the part of us that refuses 'spooning' is the part of us that climbs, oh so carefully into bed with the goal of finding the most comfortable position in as little time and with as little movement as possible because we will remain in that position for the entire night knowing that if we move, the tide returns... but in bed? Things become a whole lot more complicated.

the part of us that 'holds it' in the morning until we're in physical pain is the part that is knows that anything we need to do in that bathroom is humiliating and can't be done in mixed company.

the part of us that might usually smirk at a light smack on the butt gets angry at any attention... from our husband, a  stranger, a dog... directed at the entire center region of our body and for many reasons; for the products that are holding us together, for the extreme effort we make to 'hold it in', and for the possibly, possibly-non irrational fear that we smell anything but 'sweet'.

the part of us that is well aware that if anyone, and I mean anyone single-handedly bled THIS much from any part of their body, it would warrant a 911 call, many many stitches, and possible surgery.... and we'd GLADY take all 3 as a fair trade every month.

She is responsible for 95% of those 'hormones' that get so much attention.

No one prepares you for this dirty little secret.... it goes so far beyond a week of rampant emotions and an overlapping week of just plain grossness. It changes things....

It turns your marriage into a three-some.

It's the shadow that hangs over the household no matter how hard she tries to hide it.

For a man, it makes her untouchable.... and why does that seem to make her more desirable?!

For a woman, it makes her disgusting, revolting even, to herself and nothing anyone can say can change that.

Side note.... Why don't women on TV have periods?!

 Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda don't get them. Meredith, Bailey, Addison, Arizona, Callie, and Christina.... don't get periods. Even the Teen Mom girls don't get them!

A period and ovulation.... the only two things that must happen in order for a woman's body to have the ability to conceive.

And one of them NEVER happens on TV!

Rant over.

My period, regardless of the mutual respect we once had for each other, has never done me any favors. The curves? Still waiting. The budding maturity? Depends on the day. Ovulation? Got that down. Marriage? We're a three-some. Conceiving? Negative.

Until....

We are now 4 weeks post-D&E. We lost our precious #3 four weeks ago. My sweet husband and I had been a two-some for the first time in our entire marriage for 4 full months....

And like clock-work, our three-some returned.

I won't get into a 'post- D&E' explanation with you ... but let me just say...

I hate her.

In the day of Adam and Eve, the consequence of Adam's disobedience was a life-time of work. God's punishment for Eve's disobedience is commonly thought to be the pain of child-birth.... and, even though I haven't experienced child-birth, I can see how that's rough.

But here's the thing.

I might never experience child-birth... but I suffer the consequences of Eve's disobedience every.single.month. And this month? This month is rough.

This month, I hate her.

Eve.

Well... and my period.

The pain and discomfort and emotions? They're all different this month... so much worse.... so much messier..... so much more emotional and painful and scary; emotionally, physically, and spiritually.  And they probably will be for a while, I'm guessing.

This girl? This month? My list of excuses is long.... really long.

Once in a while, life's a bitch. And once in a while, a girl deserves to be one, too.

 Period.

The Art of Complaining... By, A Pro

About a year ago, Joey accepted a new job that moved us half way across the country... new job, new town, new friends... looking back now, I see how God has used even the seemingly small changes in our lives to bring us to where we are today.

 And today, we're in a good place ;-)

With Joey's new job came some pretty big life changes.... we were moving for the second time in 2 years (and that second move soon became a third), Joey's job required him to start travelling during the week (most weeks), and I struggled to make our new life fun and exciting and stress-free for Hannah...

I didn't handle it well.

We moved a lot when I was growing up... California to New York (3 different houses and then 1.5 years of college), New York to South Carolina, South Carolina to North Carolina.... you get the point. The most recent moves had us in Kansas, back in South Carolina, and again, back to North Carolina.

Moving didn't bother me. I make new friends fairly quickly, I'm not afraid to branch out in order to meet new people, and our family unit is strong so in the times when I could have felt alone, I felt surrounded.

But these last couple moves... they've changed me.

I don't know if it's my age... I'm more set in my ways and less able to tolerate change?

Maybe it's everything the past few years have brought us and my inability to leave those things behind... more infertility, numerous failed adoptions, difficult friendships, family members losing jobs.

It could be that I liked how our lives were turning out right before the big changes took place.... but I didn't.

So when I get right down to it, I know the truth in my heart...

I haven't been giving God the room He needs to show me His plan... his wonderful and perfect plan.

"For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11

In the depths of the pain and stress we have endured over the past few years, I have allowed myself to 'take a vacation' from trusting the One who, sadly, I deem responsible for the losses and pain and changes...

Filling the voids with myself and not with Him; the only One who can fully fill them.

I read my Bible, we go to church, I surround myself with friends who uplift and encourage me... who don't judge.

But I have complained every. single. step. of. the. way.

"Our old house was way better than this house."

"I liked my friends... I don't want new ones."

"My Dad's job made him travel a ton while I was growing up... and now I have a husband who travels."

"We've been through so much... how much more are you going to throw at us, God?"

"I deserve better."

"I do so much every day, for so many people, and where has that gotten me?!"

The list goes on.

I have mastered the Art of Complaining....

and in my opinion, not much in this world, in my world, can separate me from God more than complaining.

So I've found myself here; In this place where I am surrounded by amazing, wonderful, miraculous things.... and I've spent so much time complaining that the only thing I can truly see and feel... is myself.

I feel those amazing, wonderful, miraculous things slipping away... disappearing under the weight of my complaints.

My husband was out of town last night and as I got into bed, I got this text from him...

"You're such a good mommy. We love you so much.... thank you for doing so much for us."

And it all faded away.

The 4 year old attitude, the stained carpet where the dog peed, the disaster of a playroom that has been staring me in the face for 2 weeks, the pile of dirty laundry that I've been clothing my family from because we're out of detergent and I keep forgetting to pick some up, the lousy frozen dinners we've eaten this week, the bill that was due yesterday but I haven't paid because I can't remember my stinking password (OR login name!), the chipped nail polish that drives me absolutely CRAZY, the dishwasher that smells like a skunk but I have ignored because I really don't want to know why it smells like skunk, running out of my favorite perfume and being in a terrible mood all day just because of it, missing my parents and feeling like we're missing out on each other's lives, completely losing it because my 4 year old just wanted to wear her see-thru princess dress to the store and didn't want to wear shorts under it, holding a grudge over one off-handed remark that I know was actually really funny...

A comment I didn't deserve.... but one that was so badly needed.

It was all gone.

I can't take any of it back.... but I can control when and if it all happens again.

I went to bed last night after reading my husbands sweet text and I promised myself that I will do everything in my power to enjoy each moment.... the lesson that life is fragile hits too close to home lately and there isn't a second that is worth wasting.

And when I got home from picking Hannah up from school this afternoon....

on the door step.

I'm done wasting those precious seconds on something like complaining.

And I'm relinquishing my title as a Pro Complainer...

 because when all is said and done, I wouldn't change one, single. thing about my life... about the plan God has made just for me.

God really does know what He's doing... I have to spend more time on the sidelines so I can see all that he's doing in the ring...

after all... He's proven time and time again to be much better at planning my life than me ;-)