NorwegianBlue, all your wife needs is a good bitch slapping.
Cinnamon Girl, I left you some messages but you probably didn’t get them. Please call me back as soon as possible. Thanks.
Sure it was. You posted about your personal life in a public forum where people have the opportunity to respond. If you didn’t want people to respond, to take part in your personal life, you would have put this in a non-interactive media. Like a locked blog post, perhaps.
One last note to this vaguely amusing, vaguely nauseating thread – NB & CG, for the love of mike, please send Little Cinnamon to spend some time with her grandpa this weekend, and spend a little time talking about your issues together. If for nothing else than Little Cinnamon’s sake.
And move the damned cereal.
Okay, well. Where to begin? I must say I was surprised to hear that I was pitted by my own beloved. On my birthday, no less. I told him he probably would have probably garnered more sympathy if he’d left out that little detail. I laughed initially because the absurd gift of a pitting amused me. Hey, what can you expect out of your thirties? It used to be parties and presents, now it’s grey hairs and getting blasted, maybe. Oh well. Such is life. When birthdays attack, or whatever.
Back to the topic, this has been an ongoing source of frustration for the two of us. When we don’t come to some kind of conclusion in a disagreement we generally just let it go and get on with life. Sometimes, it’s water under the bridge, sometimes it pops up again. Sometimes you agree to disagree or call a truce. This is one of those things. I’m not one to hold grudges, but I do tend to make fun of him when he’s done or said something offensive.
Enter Dr. Phil (well, not really). I’ve been commisserating with a close friend who’s having the exact same problem. Her husband (who is a great guy nevertheless) calls her on her cell frequently and expects her to answer. He’s left rude messages when he didn’t reach her (as has my love). She resents the implication that she should be at his beck-and-call (as do I) and made an offhand remark that she was going to write a letter to Dr. Phil. I made light of this by suggesting we co-write the letter entitled, “Help! Our husbands are stalking us!” It was meant as a joke. We never wrote the letter and she found another solution (of which I may avail myself should this continue).
I’m not a phone person. I see it as a convenience for me, not necessarily for anyone else. When we had a house phone and I wasn’t home, I didn’t answer it (obviously). I see no reason why my cell phone must be answered whenever just because I carry it with me. Or even that I have to carry it with me. I do have a life. Admittedly, I’m a bit scattered at times and don’t return phone calls post haste. I think it’s just a bother to return a call just to say, “Okay. Got your message.” Often I’m doing something else. I’ve been told I should call ahead if I’m going to be unavailable, but I’m annoyed by the idea that I need to report my every move.
I don’t think so. I’ll grant that I could place a courtesy call for certain instances, but I don’t. I forget. I’m a heel. But I’m not purposely avoiding him. I’m pretty much a one-task gal and my follow-through leaves something to be desired. Maybe I could use better manners. Old habits die hard.
That being said, I don’t appreciate being harrassed. Which is what it feels like when I see 26 missed calls after a few hours of being upstairs while my phone was downstairs. And a couple of rude messages. Then I go out to find out that he’s called work to see if I stopped in (as I often do, but don’t generally expect personal messages). My co-workers give me the strangest looks when they tell me, “Your husband is looking for you.” Go figure. I really don’t think they have time for that, but try telling that to a guy who thinks I’ve been in an accident anytime he can’t reach me. I was in an accident once, and if I’d had a cell I would have called him. Don’t get me wrong, everyone worries. To me, it’s a bit over the top in this case. Which means he loves me. I know that. It’s sweet, but it drives me nuts!
I don’t want to give the idea that he’s checking up on me. I had one of those before. This is definitely not it. He sincerely does want to just communicate about what-not, sometimes important, sometimes not. But whatever it is, not getting me is what creates anxiety for him. By the time, he gets me, he’s usually so ticked, the conversation degenerates into an argument. We don’t get a lot of face time due to our schedules, so sometimes we call each other to catch up on the phone. The only time it seems okay with him that he can’t talk to me is while I’m at work or if he’s in a meeting.
I nearly posted this dilemma here before tonight, but hadn’t quite made up my mind to do it. I do think we need to come to some kind of compromise that we can both keep. It’s not going to destroy our otherwise healthy relationship, so I’m not worried, but fighting about the same thing is kinda getting old. And now this. I see this as wholly representative of his anger and frustration about failing to accomplish something very important to him. He’s lashing out and blaming me. I do the same childish thing sometimes. He truly regrets it now. I believe him and I’m taking it in stride because he’s a human being with foibles as am I. We just don’t see eye to eye on this topic.
And yeah, I’m not pissed that he pitted me. He was venting. Although I’m pretty irritated that he went off with all the details and I feel I was misrepresented by his angry tirade. It was classic look-how-horrible-she-is-I’ve-been-wronged. I will say this, I won’t dignify the exaggerations and misrepresentation with a play-by-play defense. It’s not worth it and is not the matter at hand.
So, if y’all want to help us figure out what’s acceptable with our cell-communication dilemma, I’m open. Let’s fix this, so we don’t have to go off on wild tangents making each other feel like asses. Okey-dokey?
Salvador Dali is looking at this thread from heaven and saying “Jesus, what are you people smoking!?”
Simul-post! We took Cinnamon little out to dinner with us tonight and enjoyed some great and unfortunately not-often-available family time. Tomorrow night we’ll be having dinner with his parents and Cinn little is coming with. Translation: we’re not in crisis mode. This is one of those married things. Notwithstanding his OP and it’s appropriateness, we’re not doomed.
I think this is probably a good lesson in remember the rule, wait before you post. He probably would not have posted quite like that had he taken the opportunity to calm down. I think he knows this as appears a bit sheepish about the whole thing. On the phone earlier he said I do love you. I said I know wondering what that was about. His response was, “Well, at least you do,” referring to this thread and the doomsayers that followed.
Oh, as far as the cereal goes, that was a one-time event. Cinnamon Little, who’s very independent, thought she could handle it herself, but was instructed never to that again and gets mommy up when she’s ready to eat. She can be very persuasive. Otherwise, she has snacks in the fridge and on a lower shelf to get her by while mommy wakes up her brain.
Har har. Don’t hold your breath, buddy! 
What kind of cereal?
And what did you get for your birthday?
Seriously? Well, since you asked:
Cereal: whatever I have a coupon for or is on sale. Usually something good like Life or Cheerios, but sometimes something yummy like Cap’n Crunch.
For my birthday: NorwegianBlue got me the camera I’ve been wanting for a long time, Canon PowerShot A75. I love it! Oh, and dinner out.
Pitting a spouse who happens to be a fellow Doper falls into the category of TMI.
Some things (said with horrific irony) aren’t resolved best by public vote.
Our stock advice to take personal things to e-mail pales, rather. By all means, use e-mail if that’ll work. Chats across the dinner table? Pillow talk? Muttered asides while wrestling for the TV remote? Whatever works. Just not here.
Locked.
TVeblen
Pit mod