I had to come out of my hidey-hole to comment: Cobra, your post on men feeling responsible for their wives' happiness really hit a chord. I sometimes feel like I have walked into a room filled with those spinning plates (a la Ed Sullivan show). W is pointing at them as they need attention, and, with every one that crashes, I feel like I have failed, yet again.
And my self-worth plummets. And that doesn't make for a very attractive husband, I'm sure. But I don't have time to worry about that because another plate is ready to hit the ground, and I, the FIXER, need to spin it.
On Valentine's Day I baked a chocolate cake from scratch for my wife. That night, she complained that I obviously didn't make the cake for her because, if I cared enough to listen to her, to know her, then I would know that she wasn't fond of dark chocolate.
