I have never felt like a stranger in my own home. Even now, that I'm home all day and not spending 10 hours away from the house five days a week, I belong in this house. It is my home.
I'll tell you a funny story. My husband has been super supportive of me quitting my job and being home, with him, all day. SUPER supportive. You may remember that he quit his job back in February of 2012. He doesn't have to go to work, EVER! In the past year and a half he has gotten pretty used to having the house all to himself. He liked it. I think, while he was here all on his own and I was at work all day, he thought the house was his. He had a routine. He told me I'd develop a routine, now that I'm home all day, (but it better darn well fit into his routine). He didn't really say that last bit out loud, but his actions and words to me around the house this past week have, sort of, indicated to me that this is how it's gonna work.
I don't really know my husband's routine and I haven't developed a routine yet, so we're just stumbling around trying not to piss each other off. So far, so (pretty) good. From what I can tell, the three tvs in the house are his. There is a tv on each floor of the house. While the market is open, the channels are all turned to CNBC. After all, everything you need to know about what is happening in the world can be discovered on CNBC. AND, now that neither one of us has a job providing outside income, we need to make our own money. CNBC has all the information. All tvs, while my husband is in the room, will be programmed to CNBC.
I do admit to enjoying watching CNBC, sometimes. And, sometimes, I admit to enjoying Real Housewives of whatever city they happen to be filming this time. And, just about ALL THE TIME, I enjoy watch those crazy housewives sit on two couches with Andy Cohen inbetween them and listen to them fight and watch them cry. It is confrontation at its best.
Since I am now home all day, I was given some spoken expectations and I've been catching on to some of the unspoken expectations. One of the spoken expectations, (and this is the funny part of this story, gee, it took me forever to get here and I've gone off on a horrible CNBC vs. RHOC trail to get here) is that I'm not allowed to laugh too loud. Really, he said these words to me. He told me he doesn't want me laughing too loud about anything. Nope, no laughing. If I find something funny during the day, I better keep it to myself. He told me he doesn't want to have to tear himself away from working on his paper or paying bills or making a stock trade or whatever he happens to be doing at the time of my outburst of laughter to come to where ever in the house I happen to be to learn what it is I'm laughing about. OoooooKay... whatever you say.
Seriously, even he can't believe he said this, out loud, to me.
I'm telling just about everyone I meet that this is what he told me. I love it. He believes this statement should be recorded in the husband annals of Things Husbands Should Never Say to Their Wives. I'm sure it would be right up there with, "those pants make your butt look fat."
I"m going to get used to the spoken expectations of life here in my own home. I'm sure I'll even learn to tread the minefield of unspoken expectations. I'll find my routine. I'll even learn to fit into the thing my husband calls his routine.
I'll watch CNBC and look for the next BIG thing. (why, oh why didn't I buy Tesla? but, really, who'da thought those electric cars would end up being sexier than a Jaguar?) After all, neither one of us is old enough to start drawing money out of our retirement accounts and we've both gotten quite attached to eating every day. :)
476. Having someone to run boring errand with, if I ask very nicely
477. Green juice while watching Squawk on the Street
478. The love of an old dog
479. My son telling me he misses living with me (shocker)
480. Saving LOTS of money on gas
481. No phones ringing
482. Discovering what I really like to do
483. Did I say, getting up without an alarm... I love this part of it
I'll tell you a funny story. My husband has been super supportive of me quitting my job and being home, with him, all day. SUPER supportive. You may remember that he quit his job back in February of 2012. He doesn't have to go to work, EVER! In the past year and a half he has gotten pretty used to having the house all to himself. He liked it. I think, while he was here all on his own and I was at work all day, he thought the house was his. He had a routine. He told me I'd develop a routine, now that I'm home all day, (but it better darn well fit into his routine). He didn't really say that last bit out loud, but his actions and words to me around the house this past week have, sort of, indicated to me that this is how it's gonna work.
I don't really know my husband's routine and I haven't developed a routine yet, so we're just stumbling around trying not to piss each other off. So far, so (pretty) good. From what I can tell, the three tvs in the house are his. There is a tv on each floor of the house. While the market is open, the channels are all turned to CNBC. After all, everything you need to know about what is happening in the world can be discovered on CNBC. AND, now that neither one of us has a job providing outside income, we need to make our own money. CNBC has all the information. All tvs, while my husband is in the room, will be programmed to CNBC.
I do admit to enjoying watching CNBC, sometimes. And, sometimes, I admit to enjoying Real Housewives of whatever city they happen to be filming this time. And, just about ALL THE TIME, I enjoy watch those crazy housewives sit on two couches with Andy Cohen inbetween them and listen to them fight and watch them cry. It is confrontation at its best.
Since I am now home all day, I was given some spoken expectations and I've been catching on to some of the unspoken expectations. One of the spoken expectations, (and this is the funny part of this story, gee, it took me forever to get here and I've gone off on a horrible CNBC vs. RHOC trail to get here) is that I'm not allowed to laugh too loud. Really, he said these words to me. He told me he doesn't want me laughing too loud about anything. Nope, no laughing. If I find something funny during the day, I better keep it to myself. He told me he doesn't want to have to tear himself away from working on his paper or paying bills or making a stock trade or whatever he happens to be doing at the time of my outburst of laughter to come to where ever in the house I happen to be to learn what it is I'm laughing about. OoooooKay... whatever you say.
Seriously, even he can't believe he said this, out loud, to me.
I'm telling just about everyone I meet that this is what he told me. I love it. He believes this statement should be recorded in the husband annals of Things Husbands Should Never Say to Their Wives. I'm sure it would be right up there with, "those pants make your butt look fat."
I"m going to get used to the spoken expectations of life here in my own home. I'm sure I'll even learn to tread the minefield of unspoken expectations. I'll find my routine. I'll even learn to fit into the thing my husband calls his routine.
I'll watch CNBC and look for the next BIG thing. (why, oh why didn't I buy Tesla? but, really, who'da thought those electric cars would end up being sexier than a Jaguar?) After all, neither one of us is old enough to start drawing money out of our retirement accounts and we've both gotten quite attached to eating every day. :)
476. Having someone to run boring errand with, if I ask very nicely
477. Green juice while watching Squawk on the Street
478. The love of an old dog
479. My son telling me he misses living with me (shocker)
480. Saving LOTS of money on gas
481. No phones ringing
482. Discovering what I really like to do
483. Did I say, getting up without an alarm... I love this part of it