myrddyn

reflections from the kiddie pool
2003-11-05 23:21:14 (UTC)

none


It's amazing how daylight savings time turns 5:00 p.m. into
the dead of night.

I was ready to quit my job Monday. Once again my father was
disappointed with the number of hours I billed last month,
so last Friday he said he was going to start reviewing my
timesheets daily starting Monday. It wasn't really a
discussion, he mentioned it almost in passing and indicated
we would talka bout it later.

I have no interest in that. I would rather work somewhere
else than to have the additional pressure every day of
knowing that my father was going to be scrutinizing my
record of what I was doing for every minute of the day.

So I came in Monday figuring that we would 'talk' about
timesheets and that I would probably be giving him my two
weeks notice by the end of the day. It didn't turn out like
that. Tuesday morning I had turned in my Monday timesheets
and he made kind of a point of pulling them from our
secretary's box and thumbing through them while I was in his
office, but if he really read any of them I didn't see it.
Today he didn't ask for them at all, from me or our secretary.

So we'll see if he tries to pick things up again tomorrow.
I've thought about trying to get picked up by a bank trust
department . . . there are several around here and we have
contacts and connection in msot of them. It would be more
like a corporate job . . . more fixed holiday time, less
flexible work hours, at least something that resembles a
retirement plan, not as much worrying about timesheets, more
worrying about work product. And no dad.

As I mentioned I think in my lat entry, my wife is all on
board for me to make a move provided (a) I'm making more
money and (b) I'm making more money. Apparently there is no
stepping backwards for happiness within the context of my
wife's world.

Yesterday my wife had to go to her school in the afternoon,
so I came home at lunch and stayed and watched the baby.
She's cute. I took her over to the neighbor's house for an
hour and we sat on the porch and chatted. I can't believe
my wife doesn't ever do that . . . it's a lot of fun to
really sit down and communicate with someone for a while--no
pressures, no expectations.

My wife was all riled up yesterday because breast feeding
has been going poorly recently. The baby is distracted all
the time (i.e. she is always pulling off and looking
around), and now has a lone little tooth poking out from her
bottom gums. As any breast feeding mother will tell
you--when it's not going well, it's hell. Or at least,
that's what my wife says just before she says I can't have
any idea how frustrating it is for her. So the last week or
so despite all of the extra things I have been doing for her
I am pretty much resigned to things going rough for the time
being. At least I still have Hapkido.

My wife says she feels like she's in prison, that everything
she does is dictated by when the baby sleeps and eats and
then she feels guilty about being frustrated because the
baby doesn't know any better. She's bitter about not being
"able" to leave the house some days, and she hasn't been
able to implement her exercise program. When she gets like
that, there's nothing I can say. She's venting, but
emotionally there is only so much venting I can take before
the negative energy starts to affect me. I just don't have
the emotional skills to deal with lots of venting, because
my natural reaction, like most men, is to want to make
suggestions and to try to be helpful. Well, all of the
various books and talk shows all say that doesn't help, even
a little. So I try to be attentive and ride things out mostly.

Honestly we could probably each benefit from a little
professional counselling right now. I need to figure out a
way to get my life in a little better order and my wife,
well, if you've been reading for any length of time you'd
know I don't have the time or the patience to try to put
down any dispositive list here.

I've heard that the first year of your first baby is the
toughest on a marriage. It hasn't been our hardest year yet
by a long shot, but it sure as hell hasn't been a picnic. I
don't say that in any way as as reflection of the baby . .
. she's been about as good as a baby can be. but it's us
parents that are all twisted around.




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