First Fight

   It’s been two and a half months with The Musician now. Things are going well…so well! It’s still a struggle balancing everything, but I usually keep it together. Tonight, though….we had our first fight…except that it wasn’t a fight because we never said a word to each other. I had a long day, leaving for school at 7:30 am. I got my math test back and was disappointed in my grade. I had to go straight from school to my BFF’s house to babysit…. spending a few minutes with her when I got there lending some emotional support. I tried to get some homework done while the kids were playing, but I had to make them lunch, then take the older one to volunteer at the horse stables, run lines for the little ones play, pick my own Kiddo up from school, get us all something to eat and then get  the little one to rehearsal. By the time we made it home, it was 6:30. I was already tired, but had laundry and errands to run and The Musician had missed it when I told him he should pick something up for dinner on the way home, so he needed to eat. I started laundry and The Musician and I headed out to get him dinner and run to the store. We got back, I put groceries and laundry away and was in the bathroom just wishing that I could crawl into bed instead of packing to go out of town the next day. I had hurt my back the night before, and was feeling physically at the end of my rope. As I was sitting on the pot, the cat jumped into the bathroom window- a common occurrence. What came next was not common at all….I was hit by a shower of dirt! I guess the cat tried to jump into the hanging planter, but the wire it hangs from slides so that it can stay balanced. The planter was tipped sideways and potting soil covered the entire tiny bathroom! There was dirt piled up in the tub, on the floor, even in my pants. At first I laughed at the nutty cat…then I realized that I was going to have to clean this all up before I went to bed. The Musician heard the commotion and looked into the bathroom. He asked if I needed the vacuum, and I said something about needing a lot of things, but firstly needing to finish up my business. As the reality of the situation set in, I became frustrated and angry. I was tired, my back hurt, and I would have another hour of back breaking cleaning to finish before I could sleep. I knew that it was my house and my pet, it’s obviously my job to clean it up, but I guess I expected The Musician to offer to help….or at least give me a hug and say he was sorry I had to deal with it. Instead, he sat on the couch looking at gear on his iPad while I schlepped cleaning implements and soiled linens back and forth. I knew that most of my anger had nothing to do with him, so I didn’t say anything to him. I didn’t want that rage to be directed at him when the mess wasn’t his fault. But the longer I held it in, the more angry I got at him….how could he sit there and not say anything? He knew what kind of day I had, that I hurt my back, and that the next day was going to be long and arduous. How could he not even offer to help? I mean sure, there was no way both of us could even fit in the bathroom together but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate the offer. He is usually so thoughtful and caring, so to see him just shut down like that surprised me. I started the shower curtain in the wash, since it was covered with dirt, and finished cleaning the bathroom. I sat down to watch some TV and couldn’t get the TV on…more frustration! I went to use the restroom, but The Musician was already in there. I heard the shower running, and I asked through the door if he was taking a shower without the shower curtain, but he didn’t hear me. I just imagined the bathroom that I had spent an hour cleaning being doused with water, and my head nearly exploded. I went back in the living room to watch bad TV and eat junk food alone and try to cool off. When I came to bed, The Musician was already there. He seemed to be asleep, and still hadn’t said a word to me. I crawled into bed, and after I settled in he put a hand on my waist and told me good night. Just that caused my anger to flash again, and instead of saying what I wanted to “Oh, you’re talking to me now?!” , I stayed silent. He pulled away, and got up a little while later. I thought he just went into the living room, but when I went to the bathroom I discovered a text from him saying he was sorry about our little falling out, and that he would be back to take care of the house while I was gone unless I changed my mind. WTF?! I asked him to please come home in the morning so we can talk. I can’t leave town for the weekend with things like this. We are going to have to learn to get through these kind of things….


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