It’s not that I don’t love going out to a nice dinner and drinking wine with you. I do, but by the time we get home I feel bloated and the wine has made me sleepy. And I think it is so sweet when you bring me flowers, but sweet like I want to “kiss you on the cheek” sweet. But if you really want to turn me on all you have to do is load the dishwasher. There is nothing sexier than when you get up from the dinner table, start washing and loading the dishes and say “sit down, I’ve got it. I know you have been running around all day.” I know it sounds cliché, but I feel seen. You see the pile of laundry from last week untouched, you see the girls constantly pulling me in different directions, you see the clutter of textbooks and papers all over the kitchen table and the pile of unopened mail. You see I am exhausted. 

Let’s not pretend it was always this way. I know you remember a time when you would walk in from work and find an angry, bitchy wife.

I didn’t tell you I needed your help. It was easier to be resentful and try to do it all myself. I felt guilty because you had worked all day and like a failure for not being able to handle what seemed so easy for “most moms.” I was overwhelmed by food shopping, cooking, dishes, laundry, shuffling kids to activities, orthodontist appointments, vet appointments, cleaning up throw up, cleaning up dog poop, homework and school projects, lunch duty, kid drama, mom drama and birthday parties. I wanted you to read my mind.

Ok, maybe there was also a little part of me that wasn’t able to let go.

If I did ask you to do something… would you do it the right way? The right way of course, meaning the way I did it. What I didn’t realize is that all I needed to do was ask and you would have helped. You didn’t mind clearing the table or loading the dishwasher if I let you, especially if it meant you no longer had a bitchy wife.

So, thank you for helping. I am grateful for you loading the dishwasher…..even though you load it with the knives pointing up and that is not the right way. It has taken some time, but I am better now at communicating what I need instead of just getting mad. Believe it or not, it is not your fabulous dance moves that put me in the mood. It’s the glass of water you bring up every night and set on my nightstand. It is the simple things that let me know you appreciate and love me.

I apologize to my daughters who I am sure I have completely embarrassed…. you may need to unfollow me. 

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