It would appear that lately I have been sucking at my job. It has been lots of little things, but two note-worthy events have now brought it to my attention. This weekend Chris was snippy with me because I had not opened/read/reported to him about a statement on his government issued credit card that was apparently overdue. Then this morning he announces that he will have to wear his blue camos today because he is out of white undershirts and therefore can't wear his khakis.
Frankly I am unsure of how I feel about all of this.
On the one hand, yeah, these things are pretty much my job. Chris works (at a minimum) 10 hours a day at a thankless job that does nothing but punish him for his efforts and I stay home. He works his ass off to provide us with this wonderful life and if I have to do the laundry and vacuuming to make that work...so be it. When we chose to have a family while in the service, and have me stay home, I knew what I was signing up to do. These things (fair or not) are my job and I failed to do them. Sometimes I am not so great at my job and that guilt has been duly noted.
On the other hand...well, doesn't this just perfectly sum up how 90% of my daily scuttle is due to three members of this family being completely non-participatory in the upkeep of their own lives? I can forgive the kids, they are kids and we are making some strides. At 2 and almost-5 they can make their beds, get clothes in hampers, dishes in the dishwasher/sink and occasionally pick up some toys without a fight. Chris? Well that is a whole other story. At 30 he still manages to be completely passive about everything that doesn't concern his desires at that second.* And "passive" is exactly the word. It is really the lack of action that creates the tensions.
So yeah, actually, it is your government issued card. It is technically a felony for me to open that crap and frankly if it is overdue that is because the idiot your office uses for travel claims screwed up her job. Not my job, not my money, not my problem. I certainly don't get paid enough to monitor that crap. As for the t-shirts? You know where the washer is and really, if you are 30 and don't realize that you need to do laundry until you open the drawer and have none in there, then you are way past the point of me being able to save you. Basically: everyone around here needs to take care of their own lives.
I think the take home message here is that yeah, I am not doing a stellar job around here, but that shouldn't be crippling. If the system can't persist without me doing every. damn. thing. then we need to take a long hard look at at that system. I guess it is time for our quarterly round of living in a police state. Oh joy.
*With the notable exception of parenting. He is a phenomenal father and truly understands that no matter what else we are doing we are both parents first and everything else as a distant second.