Kelli,

And a big "hello" to you too.

I decided last Friday that I wasn't going to let my H steer our Friday evening into the swamp again.

I clung close to my "action plan" and coasted on ice even though I got the "I GUESS I'll see you later" routine on the phone, and that "I'm here in body only " look as he walked through the door, and those "Let me be as vague as humanly possible" responses throughout our lead based conversations.

But then came Saturday, (as it often does) and this is when I think you all would have been proud of me.

I don't know if it was a case of harmonious biorythms or what, but I was in "the zone". I was dodging and weaving my way through the entire day and my H actually relaxed and appeared content. Yea!

But then came Sunday. Some guy with a waxed mustache and some rope woke up next to me looking for railroad tracks.

With polite civility, I retreated to my "restricted zone".

No surplus nice stuff in the "restricted zone". Just your basic DB survival gear.

I have come to believe that by being so nice, (handing him a piece of pie so to speak) while he is in the process of leaving tread marks all over me, may have the appearance of giving him license to treat me like (hmmm - well) a doormat!

So I opted for the "no reacting", but "no reward" method.

Well I don't know if my "restricted zone" was what did it or if he simply couldn't stand his own nastiness anymore, but by mid afternoon, my Mr. Dastardly had quickly turned into Dudley DoRight.

He exuded kindness and affection.
He even took me out to dinner and a movie.
He actually acted as though he liked me. He really, really liked me. (Sorry )

I really can't say for sure what was behind his 180, but for now, I'll take it.

To be realistic though, the bite marks on my hand remind me to be very CAUTIOUS. I realize that things could snap back to yucky as early as tonight. But then again, weirder things have been known to happen.

Jeannine

Jeannine