GAL: Took YS on a walk in his stroller to pick up some Rx from the nearby pharmacy, and watched some football with him.
Tbh, I’m struggling with detaching, I think. W and I are very silent towards each other when in the car, and I’m having trouble becoming comfortable with it. When we’re home, it’s better—she tries to make small talk at times, but I’m really not having it; otherwise, W pretty much only talks to me when she needs something from me. W and I used to be such good friends—always talking, making snarky comments about things, chatting about stuff. None of that now, and it’s been that way for a while. Some of it I’m sure has been me, trying to detach and DB—not really initiating conversation with her unless she starts it. I know I probably sound so wishy-washy—wahhh we don’t talk in the car, but when she makes small talk I’m not having any of it and inside I think she’s a fake. 2x4 me for that if I need it.
W is just something else, really......In our condo complex, we have storage in the parking garage, and the storage cubbies are above ground, above the parking spaces for our cars. This is where we keep extra stuff, including boxes for Christmas decorations, among other things (and taking down Christmas will be a thing for next weekend, but not this weekend). However, this conversation took place:
W, earlier this afternoon: I need you to go downstairs and get the storage bins out of the cubbies....
Me, not terribly interested in doing too much for a W who is trying to fire me from my vocation as husband: Why don’t you just go and use a step-stool to get the bins?
W: [launches into a spiel about how she’d have to climb up on the step-stool and her arms are much shorter than mine (which is true—she’s 5’5’’, I’m 6’1’’), and how unsafe it would be for her and this and that and the other]
I’m sure this will be a topic next weekend, but I’m not interested in helping her.
Making dinner:
W: Okay, so I’ll go feed YS and you’ll need to make dinner. And so you’ll need to [launches into list of steps—it’s not complicated, but I want it written down]
Me: I need you to please send me the recipe
W: What, you think that is too much to remember?
Me, again: I need you to please send me the recipe
Serving dinner (I’ve also NOT been serving her dinner—she needs to get her own food, but OS and I have food on our plates—probably not civil and probably uncharitable, but she wants to fire me as husband then she needs to do things for herself like she will need to do if she goes through with this)
W [holding YS]: Oh, so I’m going to have to get my own salad and my own dinner?
Me: [reaches to take YS]
And at dinner, W is going on and on and on about how she’ll have to get both kids together in the AM plus herself and get everyone out the door on time and it’s going to be hard and so much work and this and that and the other. (I leave for work super early, because I like to beat SoCal traffic, I often have early morning meetings and I like to take advantage of the peace and quiet to get stuff done).
The moral of these stories: What exactly does she expect will happen if her S / D progresses as planned? She’ll have to get the storage bins or whatever ON HER OWN, she’ll have to do dinner ON HER OWN especially if YS is hungry and no one else will be there to make dinner for her or watch the boys, she’ll have to SERVE HER OWN dinner, and take care of herself and the boys ON HER OWN. Common theme? All she talks about is how tired she is right now (and yes, I know breast-feeding and child-rearing is hard work)—but you know what else is tiring? Working 40 hours a week, taking care of kids, and having no help because of your intentional choices. THAT IS TIRING. That is also what I have had to do when she goes on work trips (she works late, works super-early, goes away for days, weeks and even months at a time, like how she wants to go for training in the fall after she tries to D me).
To pick back up on a topic from yesterday, and once again, 2x4 me for this if I truly deserve it—I’m not sure how much fight I have for this MR right now. She seems pretty dead-set on moving on, and one of my projects for the first part of this week is initial calls and meetings with a lawyer. I know, I know—believe nothing they say, and only about half of what they do. It feels hopeless, though, and I wonder if she is giving me the chance to just get out, too. I know some on this board have said that I still have quite a bit to work with, but I just don’t know. It feels kinda hopeless, and I’m not totally sure what I really want, except for a W who will love, honor and cherish me and not up and leave because of The Sadz.
