As much as I love him, my husband really pisses me off sometimes.
Instead of listening to me when I tried to tell him about the whole postal incident, I get a freakin earful about how I need to handle it. I am handling it. My mother-in-laws bosses wife is a Post Master and used to work at the post office where this little incident occurred. Everything is being handled. I mean, aside from lodging some kind of formal complaint, what can I do about it? Noah wasn’t hurt, and it’s not like I’m going to sue the post office. I said what I needed to say while I was there and dealt with it. Situation over. Noah is ok. I won’t be going back. I won’t be dealing with that post office anymore.
Every time I tell hubby about something like this that happens-Noah bumps his head, Noah falls down-Noah does any of the 5,000 things that little boys do, and he makes me feel like I am a totally incompetent parent. Like I can’t handle anything. Like I don’t know how to take care of my child. I tried telling him what went on today, and I couldn’t even get the whole story out before he started with his whole over-the-top rant about how he was going to call the post office and deal with it and blah blah blah. I’ve got the thing under control. What does he think he is going to do about it way out there in California? I’m sure his complaint is going to mean a whole lot considering he’s 3,000 miles away and wasn’t even around to see it happen.
I hung up on him. He started telling me how I was pissing him. I feel like I’ve been through hell and back today and do not need my husband to tell me how pissed off I’m making him. Not at all. So I just hung up. Maybe he will go cool down and chill the crap out and then call me back. He’s supposed to be there to support me and calm me down, not frustrate me even more than I already am.
It hasn’t been the day that I wanted it to be.
I know when Josh calls again tonight that I’m going to get the third degree as to why I even had Noah sitting on the counter. Like I’m some kind of child that has to answer for her every move. Why? Because it was easier to put him on the counter where I could keep a hand on him than to have him running around the post-office pulling boxes off of the shelf and whatnot. Or running out the door behind the people going in and out. He was sitting just fine. He sits on the counter at our house all the time and never, ever jumps because he knows better. He was there because it was the easiest and safest [so I assumed] place for him.
I couldn’t bring his stroller in because 1) I can’t lug the huge effing stroller out of the car and into the post office by myself. The doors don’t open automatically and I had a big bag of stuff to mail to my husband to begin with. Let’s see any normal 130 pound woman with a 28 pound child try to successfully accomplish that. And since Little Man can WALK I don’t use the stroller unless we go to the mall or something where he is moving constantly. Because believe me, bigger fits are thrown when we use the stroller than when we don’t. He minds much better when he can stand right there with me like a big boy.
Anyway. That’s my rant for the evening. I feel better, but the phone hasn’t rung again yet and I’ve not had to deal with my husbands condescending tendencies yet. Love that man to death but sometimes he seriously pisses me off.