Well, if you must know, I am thirty-two. And I have a labral
tear in my hip, which medically speaking, means my hip hurts badly.
It apparently happened around twelve years ago when I must
have had some trauma to my hip. It has progressively gotten worse and most
recently has had me stuck on the floor unable to get up. The pain is excruciating
and forces me to cry out loudly, which scares my toddler to death.
So, we knew it was time to do something about it. I
wondered, though, “How will I juggle everything on crutches? I have a toddler
who loves his mommy and an eight year old who relies on me for a lot, too.”
But, my wonderful husband was able to get two weeks off from work to take over
Mommy duty.
That’s right. My husband will officially be my replacement
for two whole weeks. He has been gearing up for the challenge by making spreadsheets
for meals and snacks (I’m not kidding) and planning daily schedules. I have a
little apprehension about his temporary role for a two reasons.
A.
I must let go of total household control.
Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. The works. I know
he will do a great job, but there are certain things that concern me. Like,
when he does the dishes, will he rinse out the sink afterwards? Sure the
laundry will be done, but will he cross contaminate by putting the dirty
clothes in the clean basket and the clean clothes in the dirty basket? These
are all serious issues people. I mean, how can I rest knowing there might be
food particles stuck to the sides of the sink?
B.
He might actually out-do me.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tad
nervous that his spreadsheet organization might just set a new standard for how
this household runs. I mean, I am more organized than I used to be, but I am
still a sanguine personality, which means I enjoy flying by the seat of my
pants to some degree. What if he actually gets it all done and at the end of
the day thinks, “Man. What does she complain about? She’s got it so easy. This
is a cake walk.”
I know what you’re thinking. “Brianne, that won’t happen.”
But, to some degree I guess I worry that my flaws as a household manager might
be exposed in a rather dramatic fashion.
Truth be told, I do know it will not be easy for him. I know
that no amount of planning I have ever done prepared me for the unexpected.
Kids get sick. Recipes flop. Fatigue kicks in. Laundry gets backed-up. You
forget to turn the crockpot off and cook your seven-hour recipe for thirteen
hours. (Uh-oh. Did I just say that out loud?)
Being a Mom is hard. Heck, being a woman is hard. Throw in
our responsibilities, insecurities, expectations and our complex multi-tasking
abilities and we tend to harbor on borderline skitzophrenia!
So, as I glance over my shoulder at my husband’s lofty plans
for his two-week stint as Super-dad, I must remind myself to let it go. Whether
he forgets to spot treat the laundry or vacuum under the edges of the rug, I am
blessed to have a husband who is willing to be my hands and feet when I am
down.
But, that doesn’t
mean I won’t be doing inward fist pumps when he has to revise his spreadsheets.
