Fighting Friendly Fire

Adam and I are in the middle of a fight right now. Not surprisingly, it’s about the state of the house. The lack of clean laundry. The fact that he promised a clean house and car for when I got here and neither are even remotely sanitary. I’m mad at him for leaving the house so messy. He’s mad at me because I’m asking him to clean. I’m mad at him for him getting mad at me because I’m cleaning. Yeah… even that one makes my head spin.

I asked him to do laundry a few days ago, and he said that he would. Then I asked him yesterday to do laundry and he said that he would. Well, he hadn’t done any so while he was at work (as he always is), I decided to do laundry. I gathered a bundle into my arms and made my way downstairs. Unknowingly, a shirt dropped off the top of the pile in front of me, and I stepped on it, and I cascaded down the stairs as gracefully as a giraffe trying to ice skate. Bruised my butt, thigh, and got a nasty bruise and rugburn on my arm. Thank the heavens that it’s a short and carpeted staircase… though my gait is still a little funny.

Well, I complained to him about it. I complained that I felt like a housewife. I told him that I was tired of sitting in the house all day every day, not making any friends, not living a life. I complained that he hadn’t done any laundry. Then he got mad at me for the fact that I’m asking him to do laundry on the one day that he has off!

I paused. I went downstairs. I cried.

After a while of being alone, I went upstairs and tried talking to him again. Well… he’s now playing video games ignoring the situation. Taking a moment to myself, I ended up texting my friend Sam who gave me some encouraging advice. She told me that, just as I am getting used to living with Adam, he’s getting used to living with me. He didn’t expect me to become a housewife when I showed up, and ow that I’ve fallen into that position, he’s just as upset at himself as I am at him.

She told me that he’s not used to cleaning and being an adult. Sure, he has an adult job and responsibilities for that job, but he’s not ever had to keep his room clean for anyone other than him. It kind of hit me. Actually, it hit me pretty dang hard. I was being so hard on him, and he was drowning. But the kicker is that I was mad at him because he was drowning.

I need to be OK with not being in control of the situation. Seriously, I’ve only been here a week! I had such high expectations for coming here that when I saw that those expectations weren’t being met, I may have gotten a little butthurt about it all. One other thing that I need to be OK with is that things aren’t going to get done all at once.

That’s a weird realization for me though. Because my parents kind of pounded that logic into my head. “Do it now or get in trouble” was how I grew up. It’s not a bad thing at all, but it’s VERY different to how Adam and his brother were raised. They didn’t help with meals or the cleanup, with tidying the house or anything like it. That’s not a bad thing either- it’s just… different. I have to accept that for what it is and get over it. There’s a phrase, “you can’t fit a square peg into a round hole” that I need to start living by. This is a huge learning curve for both of us. It’s just going to take a minute to get there.

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One thought on “Fighting Friendly Fire

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