Irate, Irrational, Irritated

I don't know if these three words (irate, irrational, irritated) all share the same root, and I'm in no mood to look it up. Today has been rough. In all honesty, most Fridays are. By the end of the week my nerves are fried, I am tired, I need a break. Today is Friday, and my moods are pretty predictable on Friday, but today my mood is begging for me to hit something.

We have out of state visitors, that we asked to come and paid for airline tickets. It was mostly selfish. I needed someone to help me fix up my house, I needed a Christmas gift for my kids and for their grandparents. Flying them out seemed to be a great gift for everyone. And it has been.

However, this is our second week of visitors and it falls upon me to do the entertaining. I am tired. But I've discovered something else. What started out as an irritation has lead to some irrational thoughts (although right now I don't see them as irrational), to full on irate.

Yesterday the DrH and I went out to dinner. It was nice. I told him that I was becoming easily irritated. He responded with "I should be home early tomorrow, the attending is having a staff Christmas party at 1:00 and he needs to be out of the OR by then. You can have the whole afternoon to yourself."

Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I didn't even bother getting dressed and ready to go. Why? Well because my DrH has a habit of over promising and under delivering. I can usually handle it and get over it quickly, but not today.

DrH indicated this morning when I talked with him that he wasn't feeling well, maybe something he ate last night. OK. DrH told his parents that we would all go out to dinner tonight. I wasn't really thrilled with that (does he remember what it's like to take 4 little kids out), but was OK. Then when he called after the time he was supposed to be home to say they hadn't even started their last case, I was OK. When he called at 4:58 to say that he was getting in the car and on his way home, but still didn't feel good, I said OK, and suggested that instead of going out he should just pick up a pizza on his way home. I preheated the oven and I was OK.

Then 90 minutes passed, and my simmering irritation became a full boil. He's not on call. Remember that we have 4 kids and we usually eat dinner at 5:30 and his commute is only 10 minutes. Stopping for pizza would add maybe another 10 minutes. The oven has been preheated at 425 for the last hour. We should have had dinner ready, eaten, and have been in our pajamas. Instead, DrH comes rolling in at 6:30 pm and when I ask him where he has been he gets all put out with me. I wanted to scream "I don't care if you aren't feeling well, you felt good enough to leave the hospital and go to the sporting goods store to exchange a pair of running shorts while your wife and children are waiting at home for the food you are bringing." But his parents are here.

And the pizza he was supposed to be picking up still needed to cook, and the one he selected happened to be a stuffed pizza that takes twice as long to cook as a regular pizza. I don't want to eat, I just want to get out.

His parents come to the kitchen for dinner and he starts looking pathetic. Sure go ahead and lay down, I'll feed your kids the food you brought home an hour after their dinner time. I'll get them ready for bed while you play sick. I am not doubting that he doesn't feel good, but if you don't feel good you don't go shopping. Especially when you previously told your wife she could have some time out today. If you are sick you come straight home. I have no sympathy for him right now. In fact as soon as I fed the kids and the baby I left. I didn't say where I was going or when I would be back. I don't want to talk to him.

Where do I go? The grocery store and I wasn't even gone long. But when I come back he is laying on the couch covered up under a blanket. He doesn't' even stir when I come in. I can tell he is pretending to be asleep. I have never had violent thoughts, but I'd really like to walk over there and slap him. That is awful!

The only words I want to hear him say are "I was wrong. I should have come home, I am sorry." Maybe I will get it. Maybe not.

I wish he would understand is that I am a reasonable person, and I put up with a lot. I give him the benefit of the doubt in every situation. I don't ask questions. But when you tell me you are in the car on your way home and you show up 90 minutes later, I have a problem with that. Especially when it is dinner time and we are waiting for you to bring us our food. I am mad and hungry, that is never a good combination.