Day two of the preschool move didn't go as swiftly as my wife predicted. She said that all they had left to move were some bulky cabinets, a shelf, an armada of Big Wheels, and some of those unwieldy Little Tikes plastic playground toys. Because it wasn't supposed to be that big of an operation, I deferred eating dinner. Big mistake there.
What she didn't realize was that there was quite a bit of material still out in the garage. Three husbands, myself included, did most of the heavy lifting and loading. By the time the truck reached capacity, there was no room left for the playground toys.
I drove the moving truck over to the new church site, and we made two stops. One was at the shed we constructed last night, and the other was at the church. We then made a second trip to get the playground toys. All in all, we did three solid hours of nonstop work in hot and humid conditions.
I got the job of refueling the truck and returning it to its rightful owner. We rolled into our driveway sometime around 10 p.m. I was sweaty, dirty, and thirsty, but not all that hungry. I passed on dinner and volunteered to give the girls a bath, since they were dirty and sticky from playing that whole time.
After the kids were in bed, my wife gave me a hug thanked me for all the help that I had provided the past couple of days. The she apologized for underestimating the amount of work left. She said she wasn't used to my newer attiude (not acting grumpy about the work). I'll take it as a sign that she's trying to be more affirming.
I checked my e-mail, moved the trash out to the curb, and took a shower. It was 11:30 p.m. by then. My wife went to bed, and I stayed up about another hour and a half on the computer, replying to personal e-mails.
The move was an instructive moment for me for a number of reasons...
First, my emotional state was not what I would have predicted. Upon learning that we had way more to move than I was told, I felt a little bit of grumpiness develop inside me, but I pressed on because I knew it needed to be done. I think if the task would have involved my wife directly, I would have been less pleasant.
Second, all of this manual labor gave me some guy time away from the wife. That felt good. I think it reinforces the thinking in a Wednesday PF posting from Zoloft. If the counseling doesn't pan out, I don't have to consider splitting right away. I can find temporary respite in other things and maybe meet someone more compatible. Think of it as a phased withdrawl.
Third, I was reminded why I hate moving so much. If I do wind up divorcing someday, I'll be glad to part with most of my worldly possessions if it means I don't have to load a truck for hours on end.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
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