In general, "I'm not good at it" is never a great rationalization for not doing something. But it just doesn't fly when you are a parent. And here's where I complain about my beloved husband:
Last night I asked him to feed the Junior Miss. I had been working from home all day and was in the middle of making our dinner when he came home from fishing. He asked to eat "soon" and I said we would, and it would be sooner if he fed our beloved pixie elf. Feeding, in this instance, is cereal from a spoon. "No," he said. "I'm not good at it." Keep in mind, he's attempted to feed her once (this way: he has given her bottles in the past and is a pro at that...). We've only being doing cereal for a week or so. Who's "good at it?" Not me! Not the Junior Miss! I asked again. he said no and wandered off to do something else.
So when he came in ten minutes later and observed the little one (and me) covered in cereal, he was really looking for trouble when he asked if she should be wearing a bib. (she was wearing only a diaper.) The man really came close to being showered with rice cereal, which is mighty sticky when it dries.
He pulled the same BS with bathtime, so I showed him how to do it. Again. he will be bathing her soon. After she was in bed, I finally got over being mad at my dolt, I mean, husband. We talked and he said I should have put my foot down over feeding her. Obviously being a bitch and giving the cold shoulder wasn't a strong enough message to him...
Sigh.
Now that she goes to bed at 8:30, we are enjoying a full hour and a half alone together...when people don't drop by or call...Last night at 10 we headed to bed, both tired. The minute our heads hit pillows we were wide awake. When this happens we turn into giggly fools. A favorite game is for Bill to move his hand toward some ticklish part of me and for me to freak out before he even touchs it. Then, after I have shrieked and laughed, I tell him "SHHHHHHHHH!" then he laughs. I swear, we act as if Miss Eva is going to punish US if she hears us. (she's still in our room.)
Last night I asked him to feed the Junior Miss. I had been working from home all day and was in the middle of making our dinner when he came home from fishing. He asked to eat "soon" and I said we would, and it would be sooner if he fed our beloved pixie elf. Feeding, in this instance, is cereal from a spoon. "No," he said. "I'm not good at it." Keep in mind, he's attempted to feed her once (this way: he has given her bottles in the past and is a pro at that...). We've only being doing cereal for a week or so. Who's "good at it?" Not me! Not the Junior Miss! I asked again. he said no and wandered off to do something else.
So when he came in ten minutes later and observed the little one (and me) covered in cereal, he was really looking for trouble when he asked if she should be wearing a bib. (she was wearing only a diaper.) The man really came close to being showered with rice cereal, which is mighty sticky when it dries.
He pulled the same BS with bathtime, so I showed him how to do it. Again. he will be bathing her soon. After she was in bed, I finally got over being mad at my dolt, I mean, husband. We talked and he said I should have put my foot down over feeding her. Obviously being a bitch and giving the cold shoulder wasn't a strong enough message to him...
Sigh.
Now that she goes to bed at 8:30, we are enjoying a full hour and a half alone together...when people don't drop by or call...Last night at 10 we headed to bed, both tired. The minute our heads hit pillows we were wide awake. When this happens we turn into giggly fools. A favorite game is for Bill to move his hand toward some ticklish part of me and for me to freak out before he even touchs it. Then, after I have shrieked and laughed, I tell him "SHHHHHHHHH!" then he laughs. I swear, we act as if Miss Eva is going to punish US if she hears us. (she's still in our room.)
posted by Martha at 9:28 AM
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