Y’all. This list could go on forever. I never wanted to know how to do these things, but I’m married to a first responder husband, who is also in the Navy. Some things can’t just wait until he gets home, because sometimes that’s going to be a few weeks or even months. So, if YOUUU have a partner that greets you every evening eager to fix whatever is broken, hug them extra tight.
When duty calls and I’m the only household manager in sight, here are the things I don’t want to do (but I suck it up and handle it.)
Handle anything that deals with any sort of bodily fluids
Including but not limited to injuries, doctor visits, plunger-related crap. #punintended If Dad’s away, I can guarantee you I’ll end up at the doctor with a “never before seen” medical situation out of at least one of these kids. If I can’t put a band-aid on it, pretend it’s perfectly fine until Dad is home. (That’s not what I really say, but that’s what I WANT to say. Instead, I examine it and send a pic to my nurse-bestie who determines if we need a medical professional and I make the appointment and just handle it myself.) Also – I feel like it’s necessary to drive the point home – I’ve had to have a tooth extracted from my almost 3-year-old’s mouth, given birth to a 9 lb baby with no drugs, had the 5-year-old break a foot, had the 3-year-old break his leg, had a sewer emergency, and had a mystery sort of abscess but not an abscess grow in the baby’s mouth (pic below from our pediatric dentist) – ALL of this happened while hubs was saving all the other people!
Next up, dishes.
I’m spoiled yall. If he’s home, he ALWAYS does the dishes. And I’m forever grateful. I vocalize my thanks as often as I can (and not always with my voice). The kids like to use the time I’m taking to wash dishes to destroyyy the living room and their bedroom. I promise, I’m washing with a sense of urgency, I’m paying attention to the baby and making sure she doesn’t climb into the dishwasher, and I’m refereeing who had what first and it’s just taking forever. Now a tornado just went through here and somebody probably needs a band-aid.
Beyond putting gas in a vehicle to get me from point A to point B, I’m clueless. The manly car guru is in another state, and one of these vehicles is going to start dinging at me – you’ll know what I’m talking about … ding! ding! ding! oil, pressure, tires, sensors, blah blah blah. It’s going to be broken, and I’m going to have to haul kids to a shop and feel like I’m useless because I don’t know when it started making that noise. Just take all my money, thanks. Changing a tire with 3 kids and 3 car seats in a vehicle is beyond an inconvenience, it’s frustrating to the max and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
We live kind of in the woods. There are critters. Slimy, scaly, slivery critters. They know when his scent isn’t strong, they know I’m vulnerable, they know they’re faster than me. The universe encourages them to take advantage of my lack of ability to be conniving.
I know I sound like a spoiled brat because, well, I -kind of- am. But if you have a partner who handles all the stuff that you just don’t want to, again, extra tight hugs. If you are in the market for a partner, take this as a warning. Those first responder / military uniforms will get ya if you’re not ready. Maybe you have a bestie that would let you borrow her partner for all the ish you don’t like to do while yours is serving the city or the country or where ever his servant’s heart took him to this time. But don’t say you weren’t warned. You’ll have to figure out how to just suck it up and handle it all.