My husband is a Workaholic. To me, this is on par with other addictions.
There are several things that really cause us grief about this addiction, but I think one of the greatest sources of irritation to me is that my husband has a very hard time understanding or at least accepting my limitations. For example, it is hard for him to understand why I want alone time daily. Or, why I really can’t seem to clean the house with the children present. Or, why I am beat by the time he gets up daily. Yes, you can add to Workaholism the fact that he works nights and sleeps during the day.
Today, we did our schooling, I worked my yard duty job which today involved an indoor lunch hour, I spent over 4 hours helping one friend, and drove another friend to pick up her recently repaired vehicle, I did some prep work for a sewing job and some very minimal picking up around the house. In all, a very successful day.
But tonight when he left he wanted me to do a list of about 5 more items. The problem is, I just mentally did not want to do any more! By the time I had the children in bed and gone through their routine, it was enough to just sit and relax.
Another of the problems has to do with the fact that I often feel like a single parent. Every now and then, especially lately as I am fighting off a very persistent cough, I find myself craving solitude. Not because of the children’s behaviour but because of my increasing claustrophobic feelings.
I told a friend recently that a dream weekend for me would involve one of those Convents where they had a vow of silence. Naturally she correctly pointed out that the foreign silence would likely crush me.
And yet I would like to get away from this all. Just for a short time. To let go of those feelings where you just wish you could please just not have to deal with another ‘situation’ or ‘crises.’ The… “MooooM!” Argh! I love you but for the love of Mom! Stop it!
Play, please play children… but… just play! 😆
I know it is getting bad because today I found myself telling my son, repeatedly, “Please, I don’t want to know! That’s why I didn’t say yes! Just let it go for a bit! Wait 5 minutes… if it is still important, then come and tell me. But you don’t have to tell me everything you think! Its O-K with Mom! Seriously! No I really mean it! I don’t want to know why you like that underwear better than this one! Argh! Now GO to Your Room!”
Yet I sit back and know its going to be okay in the long run. This is a stage, right? And I’m trying to enjoy the moments!