My Husband Is a God

I've felt ineffective all week -- both at work and at home. It's likely due to a lack of sleep. As I've alluded to previously, our daughter goes to bed late and wakes up late which means that I often don't finish putting her down until 10 pm or later. This is largely a tremendous advantage because it means that I get to spend several hours with her when I get home from work (rather than only one or two as is the case with many working parents). Once I get her down, though, rather than going to bed myself, I end up staying up much too late so that I can relax for a bit.

The other night, my feelings of ineffectiveness morphed into feelings of hopelessness and confusion about the choices we've made. In particular, I was feeling envious of my husband's nascent social life, which he has in many ways cultivated for my sake so that I have time alone with our daughter more frequently. That said, I know it's also for him -- I do understand how isolating being a stay-at-home parent can be! By working in an office, I have many opportunities to connect with my colleagues over lunch, walks, etc. (and I do consider many of my colleagues to be friends).

I've never been much of a party gal -- my idea of fun with friends is to share a meal together (in or out) or to simply sit and chat over a glass of wine or to go on a walk. But I just can't seem to fit this into my life right now with the exception of a few occasions when we've had friends over as a family (speaking of family, much of our social time is absorbed by family visits -- we have four parental units in our lives given that both my husband's and my parents are divorced). As I've noted before, I resist giving up what feels like already-limited time with my daughter to take time for myself.

These were only some of the thoughts swirling through my head when I went to bed that night ... angry.

My husband quickly tuned into how I was feeling from the other room (I suppose the thwunk of my clothing hitting the floor as I whipped my ever-existent pile off the foot of the bed was a good hint). He came in, gently asked, "Are you OK? You seem mad." He then listened. And didn't get defensive. And acknowledged how frustrated and angry and hopeless I must feel. And just let me cry while I spouted nonsensical statements.

(If there are any guys out there reading this, take note! For that matter, I myself learned from this exchange about how to be a better partner, so this really isn't limited to how husbands should interact with their wives -- it's useful, I think, for all partners to consider, male or female, stay-at-home parent or working parent.)

When I had exhausted my frustration, he then suggested, in line with what aimee/greeblemonkey recently suggested to me, that I should take a night a week to myself. This was still hard to get my head around given the sacrifice of time with my daughter, until he made a more specific suggestion that I go out at her bedtime. What?

Her bedtime has always been sacred for me; since I'm still nursing her to sleep, it's the time that we can spend snuggling without her acting on her toddler needs to wander. And the tipsy way in which she looks up at me while doing so and says "hi" or "sides" (to indicate she's ready to switch sides) or "bottle" (when she's in need of more sustenance) is earth shatteringly adorable.

Yet bedtime has been more of a chore lately; she's had a hard time settling down (it can take anywhere from 1.5-2 hours to settle her down for sleep). So it's conceivable that I could come home, spend a good 2+ hours with her, begin the bedtime process, hand her over to my husband, and still find time for a glass of wine with a friend, alone.*

Even if I did this only every other week, I think I'd find it energizing.


*We're also working on weaning, and the advice I've gotten to date on this is that my husband should be the one to put her down for the time being since she mostly -- though not exclusively -- nurses at bedtime. I'm not yet prepared to go whole hog, but I think I can handle an incremental approach.