Dear Tracy,
Do you remember your first mother’s day? I do.
IT WAS AWFUL.
The husband slept in and when he rolled out of bed, he shortly after rolled out the door to spend three hours in the gym with a buddy. Yes. That actually happened. Yes. I’m still married to him.
I don’t know about you, but I did not marry my husband for his psychic abilities. Without laying out my expectations, but still having set a standard…I was doomed to disappointment. (And not just for Mother’s Day.)
Lay Out Expectations
I love my husband, but one our biggest issues come when I set a standard without discussing it with him and then get upset when I’m inevitably disappointed. We have differing opinions on what is common knowledge or what should be common sense. I’m not always right… However, when I very clearly state what my expectations are? He meets them and often exceeds them. Your partner wants you to be happy, but may need your help in achieving that.
You want a card? You want a gift? You want breakfast in bed? You want to be alone in the house for four hours while you parade around in heels rocking out to explicit lyrics? (No? Just me? That’s fine…because “these is bloooody shoes”) Then, you’re going to have to say so.
My first mother’s day, I listed my expectations after the fact.
Incredulous (and let’s be honest: absolutely furious) that he was leaving the house to go to the gym for three hours that first mother’s day, I burst out into tears. And…then? Eviscerated him with words. How could you care so little about the fact that I endured a difficult pregnancy and went through intense induced labor to bring your son, your legacy, into this world?! You sleep in every weekend without a thought to me! I haven’t showered in three days! The one day…THE ONE DAY…I should be allowed to sleep in our son has been up since 0500 with me! And so on and so on forth until he left the house. Not a great Mother’s Day.
Coming back…he brought a friend home that I was expected to cook lunch for and dashed into the back of our house leaving me to entertain our guest. Several minutes later, my husband emerged feeling triumphant with a birthday card he hastily scribbled into and a coach purse that I had been wanting but felt was too much of a splurge. A grand gesture, and one that I carry nearly every day in the summer.
But, he needed me to spell it out. So?
