Walk A Mile...

You never truly know someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes. ~ Unknown

Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes. ~ Jack Handey

God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes 'Cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues ~ Everlast

Lately, it's always the same argument: 

Me: "You get home at 6, go to bed at 9 and leave for work by 6am. And that's on a good night!"

Hubby: "Don't you think I want to be home earlier? Don't you think it makes me sad that sometimes I come home and she's already in bed?"

Me: "It's hard, okay? I'm tired, okay?"

Hubby: "What do you want me to do?"

Me: "There's nothing to do. You need to work so I can stay home and so we don't live in a box."

Hubby: "But at least we'd be happy in our box. Fine. I'll stay home and you work."

Me: <Scathing look.> "You think it's so easy??"

Hubby: "I know it's not easy."

Me: (in my head) Yeah right!

I know that we both understand the hardships the other person goes through but until you've walked a mile in someone's shoes, how can you really know? I don't think you can. I'm sure I don't really know what it's like to get up at 5am day after day, go to work, have customers scream at me with a frenetic pace of solving problems and making sure everything runs smoothly, firing and hiring, hearing from upper management, dealing with unions, weaving in and out of workplace politics then driving in traffic for an hour, walk in the door, have a baby put in my arms and hear about the woes of a stay-at-home mom and a starved-for-attention wife.

I appreciate the sacrifices he makes day in and day out. I do. I realize how blessed I am to have a partner who lives for my happiness. I wanted to go to school. Done. I wanted to live near my sister. Done. I wanted to stay at home with the baby. Done. 

BUT. And I hate to say 'but' like the above doesn't matter or count. BUT. Some days I am struggling. By the time he walks through the door I'm about ready to scream, cry, run, hide...sometimes all at the same time. I know that once I'm getting some solid sleep this will seem silly and I won't really remember how it felt to be so desperate for him to come home. In the moment, however... I just want to yell: YOU try being "on" damn near 24/7. YOU try being coherent and functional on sleep that has been interrupted more than 5 times last night. YOU try dealing with a fussy baby for 12 hours straight. For 5 days straight. YOU try getting the laundry done, loading and unloading the dishwasher, going grocery shopping, cleaning the house and/or having a decent shower with a baby who doesn't want to leave your arms and will shriek hysterically if you put her down.

You get what I'm saying. 

I'm blowing it out of proportion and I can see myself doing it but I can't stop myself either.

Pray for me.