Fun fact: This is an old post that I took down because I got so much flack for being such a horrible wife. Now, 3 years later, I’m over 40 and frankly don’t care if you people think I’m a horrible wife. Also, if I’m being honest, we all have our meltdowns and our horrible wife moments, if you don’t than you probably shouldn’t be at this particular site. PS you know who really thought this post was funny, my husband.
Hubby: “Jenny are you busy?”
Me: “Yeah, I’m writing.” Continue reading
Yesterday’s post was short and sweet, well that may not be the right word, let’s call it upsetting. Apparently, some people were concerned about the spousal abuse I am inflicting on my husband. Let me clarify, I do not throw objects at Mark very often, ever really, except apparently the occasional salty miniature cracker; which by the way, he is perfectly capable of defending himself against. (He’s trained for such instances.)
The actual argument was over a little thing I like to call, my new rug. Don’t take that the wrong way, this is not about a Brazilian wax job. Anyone who knows me is aware of my mentally unstable cutting phase. Yes, I used to cut. I cut my beautiful shag carpet from its original 16×24 down to a 2×3 welcome mat. My last dog and one of my true loves, Buddy, got very old and equally incontinent. Look, as someone who pees a little each time I laugh, thanks to childbirth, a fallen cervix, and episiotomies, I have sympathy for the “incontinent,” but not so much when they pee on my rug. Buddy peed many too many times on that rug and so I got me a razor knife and went to town cutting out each pee. The odd angles made it look like a jigsaw puzzle and my family and friends, fearing for my sanity, and held an intervention. So, I threw away the welcome mat sized rug and retired my razor.
We then had this cold hard ceramic tile floor in our family room. My kids played on it, bumped their heads on it, rode their bikes on it, skinned their knees on it, and at night we all cuddled on it to watch American Idol. Then we peeled our sweaty legs off it to get in bed.
I finally gave in and bought a beautiful, currently discontinued, area rug with a link pattern from William Sonoma. The rug I describe is the very one that was being eaten by my new puppy on my husband’s first day alone with him. A day in which I reminded him repetitively, to his dismay, “to be with the puppy at all times or have him in the crate.” A day in which I forgot my pocketbook and returned a mere 20 minutes later to find my husband asleep in the bedroom and my puppy having a pricey wool link pattern sandwich. A day in which even after the incident he swore it was, “no big deal” and that I would’ve “probably done the same thing.” I can’t get mad at the dog, he’s just a puppy and puppies chew. Does the same rule apply to Mark because he’s just a husband and husbands are frustrating asses? Nah, I still have faith in men.
So, please don’t worry about Mark. I say he got off easy under the circumstances… next time I find something harder than puffed crackers, like Swedish fish or something sharper like pita chips!
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In The Suburban Jungle’s newest segment: Ask Jenny From the Blog, I answer important marriage and parenting questions with honesty, and wit. Please do not hold me responsible for tantrums or divorce.
Recently a friend asked, “How do I stop nagging my husband?” I used the decade of marriage as a basis for my answer and gave it to her straight, “You don’t. You just learn to nag more efficiently.” The definition of nagging is to ask or criticize someone repetitively, to the point of being bothersome. Well, if they learned the first time you said it, you would be a brilliant wife and he would be husband of the year. Let me impart a truth I have discovered after a 10 years of nagging. You have to train a husband, which is not unlike training a puppy. Except that a husband takes much much longer. If you saw my 6 month old puppy actually chewing the wall, this truth could send you running for the hills.
The key is to open the lines of communication and reward rather than reprimand. I know that sounds cheesy and Dr. Philee, but it is something you may not realize until you’ve wasted much time trying to mold your man through bitter seething complaints and snide remarks.
I am still training my husband… everyday. If I had known when I was first married what I know now, I think I would be giving much less correction, and much more Snausages. I remember the conversation that started a new path to less nagging. It was not so long ago. I said, “there has to be some word, some signal that I can give to tell you that I am about to complain and possibly correct something you’ve done. The signal would imply that what I am about to say may be critical and will most definitely annoy the crap out of you. I know that, but I must get it off my chest if I am to remain happy. I need you to hear me without sneering, ignoring, focusing on a mindless commercial or diverting your attention towards the kids.
Seems easy right, asking someone to listen and absorb when alerted to do so? Well, men are stubborn creatures. So, to make it fair, I agreed that the signal could be whatever he chose, as long as he agreed to open his ears and keeps his eyes from rolling. He decided I should say, “I suck and you are awesome.” Please, is that the best you can do? In return for your full attention, I would have said, “I’m a psycho bitching wife who doesn’t deserve such a strapping specimen of a man, while flashing you and doing a jig, but we’ll just go with your suggestion.”
This is your chance to set some ground rules and have some fun while doing it. Pick a signal that is totally disarming and let him know that the only person who hates nagging more than he does is you. Most importantly, when he does a good job, don’t forget the praise… and the Snausages.
Please send questions to [email protected]
Disclaimer- Jenny is not a trained professional! Though you may find her brilliant and insightful, she has been called odd and insane. Please keep that in mind when following any of her advice. Also, no animals were harmed in the writing of this piece (in case you were wondering.)