How do I resist the forces that are working against my marital happiness? They are subtle. They are sneaky. Sometimes I do not even see them coming until they have ripped my halo off and are running away with it down a dark alley.
Take transportation timing for instance. Naively I expect that my husband will be ready to leave when I am. Does that seem unrealistic? I sit in the car with the motor running, confident that he can hear its threatening growl from our bedroom on the second floor where he is probably auditioning ties. I have of course packed up the children, with matching socks and brushed hair, remembered the potluck dish and turned off the lights. What is he doing when the only one
he has to dress is himself?
My halo is getting loose.
Or consider orphaned paper. Ungraded assignments and half
read mail lay brazenly on the table looking up at me, daring me to toss them in the recycling, when there is a distinct possibility that the pile includes a document that will later need to be returned to a twelve year old student, or rescued and immediately faxed to our insurance agent. Is it too much to ask that he make those trash vs desk decisions himself? Never mind that the mail takes up less space than my sewing machine, which has been parked in the dining room for months while I crank
out bags for a craft sale next November.
I feel a tug above my head.
Expectations are another halo nabber. I have
thought about it copiously, and expect that John will mow the lawn on the weekend. I have reconfirmed that thought every day for a week. It does not occur to me that I have not mentioned this idea to him. Meanwhile he has plans of his own that do not involve grass. Saturday morning comes and goes with no rumbling motor outside the window, and my halo starts to wiggle. Afternoon passes with no movement toward the yard and the last suspension wire on the halo snaps.
One of the most effective strategies when dealing with halo thieves, is looking them in the eye. They are actually nervous about being seen, as is evidenced by the twitching you see in this photo when moving the cursor up and down. When I see my behaviors for what they are... Impatience, Criticism, Controlling...the lights blink on and I watch them scuffle away, knocking over garbage cans in their retreat. I hear the clatter of my golden halo as it drops on the street and rolls between the cans.
I take a few steps to
retrieve it.... but then I pause. Perfect does not fit me all that well anyway.
I will just settle for getting rid of the nasties.
