Irrational Things I Wish of My Husband

Who’s that girl craning her neck out the front door, eyes eagerly searching for the first glimpse of Dad coming home from work? Oh, that’s me, his wife, nursing the baby. The toddler and the 5 year-old usually keep watch from the living room window. 

This scene often follows one of the sweetest sounds of my day: my husband’s train going by, indicating that he’ll be home soon. I count the seconds. The worst text I can receive in the evening after hours of being home alone with our kids is, “Missed the train. I’ll be on the next one.” I hang my head in despair and manage to reply a weak “OK.” When Friday night rolls around, I breathe a huge sigh of relief knowing that for two whole days someone else will be in the foxhole with me.

I know I sound desperate. By that time of day, I am, and you would be, too. With a toddler and/or baby constantly attached to me, there’s always so much more to do than I can physically manage. When my husband gets home I find myself wanting him to do everything else. I know that he just had a long day, too, and I know it’s irrational, but I want him to be my magician, because I don’t see how we can get all the cleaning, bathing, nursing, story-reading, and tucking-in done without magic. Unfortunately, my superpowers typically run out sometime after naps end.

My wishes become increasingly irrational when we need to accomplish a specific set of tasks in a finite amount of time. For example, Sunday morning our goal was to get the two older ones and me out of the house to church. I don't know how other families at church do it. Even in families with little kids, each member is clean, well-groomed and wearing matching, wrinkle-free, seasonally appropriate outfits with proper shoes, and they probably get there on time (but I really don't know for sure because we are always late). When my son and I go (Dad usually stays home with the little ones), it's a miracle if I've dried my hair, and I only have makeup on if I hit the red light on the way. Despite my best efforts to have my son wear either khakis or a collared shirt (I don't push for both; that's asking too much), he usually ends up wearing some mismatched combination of running pants, a tee shirt, and light-up sneakers.  He frequently has cream cheese on his face and toothpaste on his shirt. Nine times out of ten, he needs a haircut. And it takes everything my husband and I have in us to get the two of us there in that condition.

"Whoever wrote the song 'Easy like Sunday Morning' didn't take his kids to church on a regular basis." -Tim Hawkins

Such was the case last Sunday, but that morning we were under heightened pressure because the goal was for me to bring both older kids. As the clock ticked down, my mind spun with all the things that needed to get done before we could go, so I started making irrational wishes…

Here are some of the irrational things I often wish my husband could do:

1. Read my mind. Sometimes I don't even have the mental capacity to formulate the requests for things I want him to do for me. Too many words, too many kids, too little time. It would be so much easier if he had telepathy.

2. Brush my teeth so I can do something else. But even if he could brush my teeth, I suppose that wouldn't help me much because I would still need to be with my teeth at the bathroom sink instead of doing something else, somewhere else.

3. Do everything MY way. And I want him to just know what that means.

4. Pump my breast milk. Okay. There are some things I need to just do myself…

Despite my irrational wishes, I count my blessings because my husband is awesome and does a ton for us—even if it's not always done how I would do it. Though his laundry-folding techniques boggle my mind (picture t-shirts folded inside out…), I know that when I relinquish control of the laundry-folding, he folds it, and that means he gives me 10 minutes of my life back. If there’s anything parenting has taught me, it’s that it requires a team effort, so I am very grateful for all he does—even if it means I have to turn my son’s shirt right-side out before I can put it on!

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So what about you? Do you ever find yourself wishing your partner, or kids, could do things that are just impossible? Share your irrational wishes in the comments section.

Clutter: Decoded

Walk into a house where little kids live and you’ll see clutter. Does that clutter signify laziness on the parents’ part? Of course not. If you learn to understand the Clutter Code, you’ll see the clutter for what it really is.

To illustrate the Clutter Code, here are 11 common examples of clutter in my house and the logical reasons behind them.

1. Random piles of children’s books in various hallways.

We’re promoting literacy.

2. Empty toilet paper rolls in the magazine basket in the bathroom.

Just waiting there for the day I decide to actually lead the boys through one of the

50 projects I have pinned on my “Toilet Paper Roll Crafts” Pinterest board.

3. Blue ice pack on the kitchen counter.

It’s not ours. It came home from preschool about 3 weeks ago and has been sitting there ever since so that my husband or I will “see it” and “bring it back.” The problem is that it poses no threat of physical harm to anyone. These days, if a piece of clutter has any hope of us dealing with it, it has to be dangerous.

4. Lego bricks placed on various bookshelves, on the mantle, on top of window frames, etc.

Those little suckers hurt when you step on them! And they’re choking hazards, too. But you can’t take the time to walk them back to the Lego bin when you’re chasing a toddler who just snatched your husband’s new eyeglasses off the desk. You’ve got to pick those Legos up and place them out of reach without breaking stride, or else you’re going to find yourself plunging out some spectacles from your toilet.

5. A Sharpie marker on the top shelf of the dining room hutch.

A lot of clutter in our house is high up. When confiscating something like a permanent marker, the only goal is to place it solidly out of reach.

6. Basting brush on the dining room table.

This one stands out to me when I see it because it’s not in the correct incorrect spot. It is supposed to be by the utensils drawer. That’s where we keep it so we can use it to pry open the awkwardly-placed safety latch that locks the drawer and prevents our toddler from removing and throwing life-threatening forks and butter knives. You need to pick your clutter battles: as the out-of-place basting brush posed no physical harm, I elected to ignore it and focus on sweeping up the peppercorns that the same toddler had dumped all over the dining room floor.

7. Stray peppercorns on the dining room floor.

I missed some.

8. Folded laundry on the love seat.

The laundry is washed and folded. What’s the issue?

9. Or, instead, empty laundry baskets but no laundry.

Those are there to remind me that I already put the laundry away. Go me!

10. Weird little blue rubber lizard thing on the stairs.

That’s my oldest son’s “special prize” that he earned at the doctor’s office when he rocked getting his shots. I don’t mind leaving that one out in the open. I hope that every time he sees it, he remembers how brave he was. I kind of like the reminder, too.

11. Random items that belong in the basement.

Waiting for the day that I go to the basement not carrying a laundry basket or a small child.

By now, you’re probably learning how to crack the Clutter Code. But to be honest, there’s a lot of clutter that I don’t really have a good excuse for. I have little desire to putter around putting stuff away at the end of the day when the kiddos are finally in bed and I have an opportunity to relax with my husband and recharge my batteries for the next day.

Or maybe I do have a good excuse, after all.

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What are the totally rational reasons for your clutter? Decode some of your clutter in the comments section.