Meandering Thoughts of MomTo3Kidz: Craig

Chinese Water Torture and Life Reflections

Thu, 03 Jan 2008 13:45:53 GMT

Ice is built up outside our window (I guess, because I haven't gone out to actually look) and it is working its way into the tiny gap in the sliding part of our picture window, and melting. The water is dripping from the top frame down to the oak window sill. drip drip drip drip drip... I tried to figure out a way to put a towel on the window but couldn't attach it to the smooth, verticle surface. My cheap Target curtain panels are soaked, so they have to come down and get washed and dried. I worry about the oak trim getting soaked. Most of all I fear for my sanity. The constant drip is driving me c r a z y.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Yesterday Craig called me from work to tell me that he had to take my car because he was out of gas and he woke up 20 minutes later than usual. He didn't have time to stop to get gas. So nice of him to tell me that, after I was ticked off. Why couldn't he tell me that when he announced that he was taking my car? Communication is a requirement in relationships.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Yesterday I visited Beast Mom's blog and read her post about communication in marriage. It was all about knowing your spouses dreams. I am pretty sure that Craig knows my dreams, because I talk about them and blog about them, and he reads my blog. But just in case he has forgotten, I am going to restate my dreams:

I want to teach until I get burned out on it and don't love it anymore. Then I want to become an autism consultant for a co-op or school district and help teachers and families write appropriate IEP's for students with autism. When I am tired of that, I want to speak at seminars and training sessions on "high functioning" autism. I will get a GPS, hook it up in my car (because I am terrified of being lost) and travel around sharing what I have learned as a parent, teacher, and consultant. My tiny dog will travel with me.

I want a small, but perfect home with a garage, and 1 and 1/2 bathrooms. Maybe a white picket fence around the front yard and a patio or deck in the back yard. My back yard has a small pond stocked with koi, and a hammock, and a swing, along with bird baths, a bat house, and some bird houses. I almost forgot to mention my flowering trees, which are all over my yard.

My hobbies will include photography, scrapbooking, gardening, reading, and blogging. I will be involved in my church, even more than I am now. I will entertain again. My friends will be able to come to my home because it isn't a wreck. I can have cook-outs, and wine and cheese parties, and people over for dinner. I may even start a book club. Yay!

Now I just have to find a second job so that I can pay off debts and start working on my dreams. I put in one application during break and hope to find work on weekends only, so that I can be home to help Drew and Victoria with homework during the week. I also have to have time to write lesson plans and grade papers.

So now the big question is, "What are Craig's dreams?" When we met he was going to learn to read well, and go to school to be a certified auto mechanic. He didn't follow through on his reading tutoring. He dreamed of owning a Harley and he got one, then he dreamed of owning a hotrod, so he sold the Harley to pour the money into the engine of his Chevy truck. The truck has been sitting for years, silent and still. It costs a ton of money to restore, maintain, and drive a hotrod. He tried to run his own business but wouldn't do the paperwork, or return customer phone calls. If a customer ticked him off, he dropped them.

I have no idea what he wants in life. He doesn't seem to have a dream, or a plan to get there. I keep wanting to ask, but he is always irritated with me and I am afraid that my questions will be viewed as criticism. I think he would be a much happier person if he had a goal to work toward and a plan to get there. Right now he is a miserable man in a job that makes him more miserable.

Craig often blames me that his business didn't take off. I made him forms for his work schedule, for estimates, for billing, and got him a calendar for his appointments. I explained that he needed to keep all of his receipts. I answered his phone calls and took messages. I tried to pacify grouchy customers. I always promised that Craig would call them back. He wouldn't. He wouldn't use my forms or keep track of customer information. It wasn't my dream. It was his. If I had wanted to be a book keeper, secretary, and customer service representative, then I would have taken classes in those areas. I finally told him that I was throwing in the towel. It was his business and he needed to run it how he saw fit. I was becoming a teacher.

Craig turns 45 years old today. If he lives to be 90, he is half way through his life. Where does he want to be when he is 55? 65? 75? Does he have a plan to get there?

Is he 4 years old or 44?

Fri, 28 Dec 2007 11:32:06 GMT

Last night I started brainstorming for a paper I have to write for my class on autism. Craig went to bed around 9:00. I got some ideas down and followed him to bed at 10:00. Problems started right off the bat. He was hogging the bed. His big old leg was over on my side of our little queen sized bed, so I had to lie on the very edge of the bed. I asked him to scoot over - he snored. I pushed his knee and it didn't move. He continued snoring. I finally grabbed his knee with both hands and started bouncing it. He moved it over so that I could actually roll onto my back.

Naturally he was facing toward me, snoring in my right ear. How annoying. "Craig, you're snoring. Roll over!" No change. I jiggled his shoulder. "Please roll over." Nothing. I got creative and started pulling the hair on his legs. He rolled, right onto his back. Oh no. Prime snoring position. I don't know how I managed to fall asleep, but the next thing I knew it was 2:30am and I was cold.

We like a cool house at night and lots of blankets. We sleep the thermostat at 64 and two blankets and two quilts on our bed. Sometimes Craig throws an old comfortor on top of all that. If I wake up cold, it can only mean one thing. Craig has all of the blankets. Sure enough he had managed to steal all but one blanket, and that I only had the corner of. When I attempted to pull the blanket over me completely, he grabbed it and literally snatched it away from me. *sigh* Luckily Victoria is staying with her brothers and sister, so her bed was free. I climbed into it and immediately fell back asleep.

I don't know what time it was when Craig slammed the door to Victoria's room open, turned on the light and ordered me back to our bed. "Woman, get back in bed!" Huh? I was warm, comfy, and in no mood to get out of that bed. I didn't move. He was mad that I wasn't sleeping with him. I mumbled that he was snoring and took all of the blankets. He tried ordering me again and I got mad. I told him there wasn't a snowball's chance in Hell that I would get back in bed with him when he was acting like a total a**. He left the light on and the door open and climbed back into our bed and continued yelling at me from there. "Get in here! If you don't get in here I will stay up all night making noise and you won't get any sleep at all!" I got up, turned off the light, shut the door, and crawled back into Victoria's bed. I was relieved that Andrew was spending the night at a friend's house. Craig yelled for a few more minutes, then started talking instead. I am sure his comments were not nice, but I don't know what he said, because I hid my head under the pillow and his tantrum became an annoying hum in the distance as I drifted back to sleep.

This morning I didn't hear the alarm go off. I didn't hear him talking to the dogs. I finally knew he was up when I heard him coughing. He came into Victoria's room and complained some more. He said that he wasn't snoring, because he never slept last night and he only had one blanket, so he couldn't have stolen any from me. He must have been laying on top of all of the blankets and snoring when he was wide awake - just to keep me awake then. Jerk.

Darn

Sat, 24 Nov 2007 00:23:31 GMT

Well the good mood was short lived. Craig started out the day in a decent mood. I am pretty sure he was forcing himself to pretend to have fun while we did some Christmas shopping, but at least he tried. By this evening he started getting cranky. At 6:00pm he accused me of plotting to take Marilyn to Cancun instead of him. He complained about me driving over to see her. He told me that I had to take Victoria with me. His tone of voice was nasty and accusing. Just yesterday he told me he was done being nasty and rude to me. That lasted a long time. Geesh!

Mr. Negativity

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 11:24:20 GMT

Last night we went to our last class of Financial Peace University. Our church provided pizza, pop and cake for the occasion. The pizza came from a place that we like a lot. However, as we found out the same name on the front of the building, does not mean that the quality of the food is the same. It was good pizza, just not as good as what we are accustomed to getting. Craig wouldn't let it die. He kept telling the people we sat with how much better their pizza is where we live. I noticed that he still ate the pizza while he was complaining. On the way out the door he had to tell me once again that the pizza wasn't very good. Uh, maybe he thought I didn't hear him at the table? I was just happy that I didn't have to throw something together when I got home from work, or run through a fast food place on the way to class for dinner. As a bonus, they didn't get the pizza from the $5.00 pizza place. Now that is some nasty excuse for pizza.

This morning Craig started complaining as soon as his feet hit the floor. The kids had the gall to eat the three bowls of Raman noodles we had in the cupboard. It was their dinner, since we let them fend for themselves. He grumbled and moaned and made sure that he was loud so that Andrew and Victoria might hear him. "That was my lunch food. Nobody cares about Dad. Oh no, they just eat what they want." Blah, blah, blah. Then I did the unthinkable. I tried to appease him. Geeze, he draws me right into his trap:

Well, honey why don't you take a can of soup? There is chicken noodle in the cupboard. I don't want chicken noodle soup. If I did, I would take it.

How about some frosted mini wheats? That is your favorite cereal. I don't want to take a bowl to work.

Well what happened to the salami you bought for your lunches. I am out of bread, and we are out of bread, because I just fed the last of it to the dogs, because someone doesn't know how to close the bread when they use it and it was hard as a rock. Dang it, I don't want to bum bread from anyone at work. I am not a bum.

You could stop at your mom's and pick up a couple slices. She is usually up at this hour. I don't want to stop at my moms for bread.

Ok, so take some of my gas money off of my dresser and stop and get a loaf of bread and something else to eat for your break. Are you kidding? Do you know how much they charge at the gas station for a loaf of bread?

Craig! There is a grocery store just a few blocks away. It is opened 24 hours. Stop there and get something to eat! I didn't say anything about a gas station!

I cannot believe I stayed in that cycle for so long. He started *itching that I had $40 for gas and had just filled up Saturday. I didn't. I put $20.00 in on Saturday, but what does it matter? I drive 30 - 40 miles round trip for work each day and I need to keep money aside for gas. Finally I lost my temper and told him that he is a total A**. He decided to take my money, and he left for work. After he left, I started feeling like a fool for allowing him to pull me into that cycle. He is a 44 year old whiner, and when he gets going on the whining, nothing I do or say will be good enough. He is perfectly capable of solving his own dilemmas. I should be strong enough to refrain from "helping" and from calling him a name in the process. Grrr.

Just one example

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 11:30:01 GMT

Friday night Craig was so overjoyed to see me (after being gone for a couple days) that he couldn't resist complaining to me about my many faults. The following is my recollection of what was said.

Craig - Someone left the bacon open in the refrigerator drawer and now it is ruined!

Kathleen - I am sure you are aware that it was me who used it. How is it ruined?

Craig- It is all dry and gross and it needs to be thrown out.

Kathleen - Hmmm. I think that if you take a chunk of fat with a little meat attached to it, and throw it in a hot pan, the fat will melt, and you will have good bacon.

Craig - That is sick. You eat it if you want to but I am not touching it.

Kathleen - I will eat it, so just don't throw it away.

Next Morning -

Andrew spent the night at a friend's house, Victoria ate a bowl of cereal, and Craig is in bed sleeping. I got up and decided to make two slices of bacon and an egg for breakfast. After I have consumed my meal, Craig got out of bed.

Craig - There you go, only thinking of yourself - as usual.

Me - What are you talking about?

Craig- You made yourself breakfast, but didn't make any for anyone else.

Me - Victoria already ate and Andrew isn't here.

Craig- Well you could have fried up the whole package of bacon so other people could have some.

Me - Craig, for 23 years you have told me that you don't like breakfast when you get up in the morning. You have to eat later, AND you told me last night that you wouldn't touch that bacon because I ruined it.

Craig - Quit making excuses and fry the bacon, woman. (No, he was not kidding.)

Me - I don't understand you at all. You made it quite clear that you wouldn't eat that bacon and now you are demanding that I fry up the rest of the package for you to eat!? There isn't a snowball's chance in Hell that I will cook that bacon for you. You don't even know how to ask politely.

Craig - Get cooking woman.

Me - Not a chance. Cook it yourself.

He cooked the pack of bacon and ate the whole thing. All of it.

This is the crap that I put up with daily. The other comments are about my fat butt, my laziness, putting the toilet paper on wrong, not arranging the cupboards correctly, spending too much time driving places on the weekend, not purchasing enough at the grocery store, not putting his clothes away after I have sorted, washed, and folded them and put them on our bed, and not cooking exactly what he likes (so I quit cooking). Then after he treats me like dirt beneath his feet, I am supposed to be hot for his body. NOT!

Sadly, after 23 years of marriage, I still dream of divorce every day.

Weekend labor

Mon, 10 Sep 2007 10:45:09 GMT

I am so silly. I look forward to the weekend and then I work some more. This weekend I shampooed the carpet in two more rooms, packed away my books since my bookcase has been broken for weeks, scrubbed the bathroom really good, did dishes twice (usually Andrew's job), went grocery shopping, paid bills, and did some laundry. Still Craig really worked his rear end off.

Our basement flooded again Thursday night. Devon came into our room at midnight to tell us. He was in the basement using Craig's computer. Craig just lay in bed and pretended not to hear. Eventually he got up, walked to the bottom of the stairs, and came and crawled back in bed. WHAT?? Devon came back into our room and said the water was getting deeper and he didn't know where it was coming from. I got up and sure enough, 4 inches of water in our basement. I had Devon get Craig's computer unhooked and all the parts up on a table. I tried to get Craig to get up so he could find out where the water was coming from and stop it. He yelled at me, "If you are so worried about it, clean it up YOURSELF!" I was so ticked. I could hear the sump pump running and running and running. I vowed not to go into the basement. I was up for hours, angry and worried about everything that was getting destroyed in the basement.

Craig had a rude awakening when he walked to the basement to get ready for work. He worked all right, but not for pay. He spent three days cleaning the basement and made one trip to the landfill. He is still tearing out the bedroom down there. The walls are gone and now he has to take out the carpet and the floor. He complained and yelled about the fact that I didn't lift a finger to help him. Treat me like crap and expect cooperation? I think not.

It IS a holiday weekend- what did I expect?

Sat, 07 Apr 2007 19:44:31 GMT

Yesterday I was reflecting on the fact that Craig has been pretty even tempered for a few weeks. He hasn't had any unreasonable outbursts. My dislike of him was beginning to soften some. I was thinking about the changes he has made for the better: going to church regularly, being a better parent to Victoria than he ever was with the boys, quitting smoking, he hasn't been complaining about his job. This morning his mom came over to get her hair done. Craig got out of bed and immediately started yelling and cussing. Not just any cuss words but the big F-bomb. His mom and I had no idea what was going on.

Apparently there was large globs of toothpaste on the bathroom sink and shower curtain, like someone had purposely squirted it. Craig was ranting and raving like someone had deliberately damaged something in the bathroom. I tried to be rational with him and told him that I would wipe it up, and at least it was a mess that could be easily cleaned and nothing was broken. Then I mouthed to his mother, "It is a holiday weekend you know..." Craig was still being a jerk and I seriously thought I was going to have to leave before I went off on him. I don't know why he calmed down, but he has been fine since then.

Tomorrow will be the real test. We are going to church tonight instead of going in the morning. (Our church has eight services to choose from.) I like going on Saturday night because our morning will be less hectic. Victoria can search for her Easter eggs (in the house due to several inches of snow) and then I can prepare the food I am taking to my parents' house for Easter dinner. Anyhow Craig is going to his mom's so we won't be together for dinner. If he manages to get through the morning without a temper-tantrum, I might miss the big event entirely. Poor Victoria and Devon will be with him. Andrew is going with me.

Craig's moods are notorious on holidays. Every single holiday. Every birthday party. If he doesn't have a rip-roaring temper tantrum, he sulks all day. Two years ago on Christmas he sat down in his mom's living room and watched television. He didn't talk to anyone the whole evening (6 hours). His body language and facial expression let everyone know that he did not want to be disturbed. For my birthday party this year, he went out in the car and slept. Yep, he is a real joy to be around. I guess I forgot to mention that he acts the same way for family vacations. Last year Victoria, Andrew and I went to the Wisconsin Dells without him. It was a great trip. :-) This year he says he is going to Cedar Point with us. I am less than enthusiastic about it...

Blog-worthy...

Sun, 15 Oct 2006 15:01:50 GMT

Yesterday I brought home great, big, bones for our dogs. According to the package they were leg segments from hogs. I thought they would be hard enough to last for a few days. I was dead wrong. The bones splintered and crumbled and our dogs ate them. They also threw them back up, all over the house. I will never ever buy pork bones for our dogs again.

This morning Craig got out our carpet shampooer to attack the stains from the dog vomit. I was in the tub when I heard the explatives of a very frustrated man. I cut my bathing short to see if I could help him out. He was carefully checking all of the parts of the shampooer which could be clogged with dog hair. He turned it back on and started yelling that he was tired of everything we own being broken, blah, blah blah.

He checked to make sure that the shampoo was in the container, and I cautiously said, "Uh, honey... did you fill the bag in the canister with water?"

"What canister?"

"Uh the one right here. The clean water goes in this bag and then when it is sucked up, the dirty water surrounds the bag."

Oh was he shame-faced. I was grinning from ear to ear. "Twenty -two years baby and you are getting more like me every day!"

By that time we were both smiling and I declared, "You just made my day and that is truly blog-worthy!"

He thinks I am being mean to him to post his goof-up for anyone to read. Imagine that.