Month Sixty-Two

Car (1 of 1)

Dear Husband,

Well this month was better than last month. On the whole, we were all healthier (although this is not to be confused with healthy because that, we were not). I came home from work earlier…eventually. We even went to the movies. Like a real date!

Of course this was not really the leisurely type of romantic date where you linger over dinner and stare lovingly at each other across the table. The type of laid back evening where you can amble across to the cinema after your meal to watch a movie before capping off the night out with coffee and cake. No. This was more like you hot-footing it from work to kindy to your mother’s all-but-sold house to drop off the munchkin for babysitting, shortly followed by us racing to the cinema to see a 6:30 movie. After the movie, which was over and done by 8:50, we then dragged our yawning butts across to a fast food place where we quickly consumed some chips and a milkshake between us before retrieving our daughter and driving home. Ever so romantic!

It was a good movie though. We both enjoyed it. What’s more, I think we both felt happy that we had gotten out of the house to do something together as a couple. Yay us. Go on a date crossed off the to-do list. This possibly sounds a little clinical or perhaps even mechanical but you have to start somewhere. Something is better than nothing after all, and then there’s that other platitude, it’s the thought that counts. And those thoughts are important. Especially the good ones. We want to keep those going. The thoughts where you say am I good enough are not so productive (unless they are a catalyst for you to do better I suppose) and I have been having a few of those recently too.

I know that I don’t reserve my best face for you. If I am tired and run down and just plain fed up, the sales person on the end of the phone gets my politeness and my patience but you do not. The colleague that frustrates me gets my felicitousness and forbearance but you do not. Just about everyone else with whom I come into contact gets a better version of me than you do. And that’s not fair. You deserve an open and honest version of me which does by default include the bad stuff but the lack of a suitable filter applied at strategic moments will most likely do more harm than good in the long run. What I am trying to say is I’m sorry for being such a cow at times. I’m trying to work on that.

The other thing I am working on is being ok with my relationship with Genibean. I’m not not ok with it but there are times when I question whether I should be doing something…different. Which sounds like it would be a me and her thing rather than a you and I thing but bear with me. Despite the fact that I currently work part time and you work full time, I am no longer her primary carer. You are. I spend less time with her all up than you do, also to the point where I lose time because I leave work late. I don’t know all her teachers at kindy and you do. I don’t know as much about how she spends most of her days and you do. I don’t take her riding or running and I don’t take her to numerous activities like the trampoline place or the pool…and you do.

Now intellectually, I know that thousands of kids come from the stereotypical working family where the dad is absent more than the mum. Dinners and weekends supply the only contact hours and this is considered both normal and fine. I also believe that the care she receives from you is no less valid or worthy than that which she receives from me (you know, now we have passed the whole breast feeding bit). Unlike may other kids in this country, she is also not in care for upwards of 10 hours a day 5 days a week. She is at home 1 day a week. With me. Intellectually I think we are pretty lucky…emotionally I wonder whether I (and we) have made the right choices.

Will she grow up wishing I was around more, conscious that there were times when I wasn’t? Will I think I should have been? Would that make me happy? If we can make the finances work so you become part time and I start full time again (which will mean even less time for me with her), will I regret that decision? I really don’t know. Maybe this can be answered another day. Maybe swings and roundabouts are ok so sometimes I can be at home more and sometimes you can. I know we only get one shot at this so hopefully we muddle through in the right direction.

Musingly yours,

Your Loving Wife

* Photo taken from the Australia Day celebrations we attended in the CBD this year.