January 29, 2010
I'm trying to train my brain to be more like my husband's. Really.
Being male, he's an expert at thinking about one thing at a time. The long corridor in his mind has many doors he can open and close at will. When he comes home from work, stressed over an issue with a client he can put it inside his "work door" and shut it away until he needs to deal with it again, back at work.
He can walk in to a room and not see the magazines and pillows off the couch tossed on the floor, the half full glass of orange juice in the middle of the coffee table, scattered newspapers on the piano bench, the greasy smear across the middle of the gilded mirror hanging on the wall. Our two youngest chasing each other around the room and yelling.
But if he sees me walking by, with a look of discouragement and frustration over "trying to do it all" he calls me to him, puts his arms around me and pulls me close. "How are you doing?" he says with warm concern.
I look around and sigh.
He says,"Honey, why don't you go relax,lay down, read a book,or take a nap."
I tell him I can't because I have a zillion things to do. He pulls me closer, hugs me tight and tells me its okay. I protest and tell him he doesn't understand, I can't handle things a mess, or half finished, or not on schedule.
When I do that I'm denying him a chance to fulfill his role as a real man by protecting me, comforting me, encouraging me, and loving me in his way.
When I hug him back, take in a deep breath and re-arrange my perspective, being gracious, supportive, complimentary, kind, and feminine, I'm fulfilling my role as a real woman.
Then we're both happy.