With or Without Him

I think I sometimes have a "strong" personality - which is the polite way of saying I'm a pain in the butt and difficult to live with. And in order to counteract my "strong" personality, I spend a lot of time trying to make sure I'm not in anybody's way. I don't want to step on toes or steal somebody's thunder, or be in the way. I want to do my job while everybody else does theirs.

That's why it's hard for me to kill my own buffalo when it's so clearly Husband's job.

When he's gone, it becomes clearly my job and I'm happy to step up to the plate. I kill spiders, care for open flesh wounds, climb trees to chop down limbs and pay people to do maintenance on the cars - all by myself. (I know...I'm impressive. [insert mock bows here])

Historically, we run a tight ship around here, staying as busy as possible and often over-scheduling our poor little family. This means either he does everything or I do everything as the other one of us is off doing something else. It's easier to take responsibility when the choices for responsible people are just me or The Littles.
 
But in an effort to repair our damaged relationship and live our lives at a more reasonable pace, we've made a concerted effort to Stop It.We're slowing down. Not going places every day and trying to make our relationship a higher priority than all the other relationships.

This means we're around each other more. Which is.....different.

The tough part for me is killing my own buffalo while my *mumble mumble, grumble grumble* husband stands there watching.

Can I load The Littles in the stroller and walk them to school without getting anybody hit by a car all by myself? Yes I can.
Can I kill the spiders, do the dishes, kiss the skinned knees and answer the phone while cooking mac 'n cheese ? Yes I can.
Can I pay people to maintain my cars, pump my own gas, be an awesome landlord and mow my own lawn? Yes I can.

But when Husband joins us on any of these adventures, I hate him for making me do it all.
I want him to kiss the knees while I cook the lunch.
I want to squeal like a little girl while he kills the unbelievably large spider.
I want to count on him to chase one Little out of the street while the other Little and I examine the worms in the sidewalk cracks.
I want him to at least load the gun for me so I can kill the buffalo.

This is still my challenge. Killing my own buffalo WITH (or without) him.

So this week when he joined us for our walk to school, distracting The Littles from the walking part and encouraging them to walk in the middle of the road, then asked me what was for lunch as I was cleaning up breakfast, I smiled and didn't tell him where to look for lunch.

Baby steps.