The spa episode

31 Jan

I’ve mentioned my sig-o in other posts but thought it was time to dedicate a post just to him. He knows that I have this blog but isn’t allowed to read it, so he’ll never know he got his own post…but I think he deserves it anyway.

Now sig-o is a good guy. He’s charismatic to the power of 10. He’s a guy everyone loves. And he’s been very supportive as we deal with this postpartum depression. But it wasn’t always that way.

All I can say is that before I started getting treatment — that is, before a doc validated that I was going through something more than just being stressed out at work and more than being worn out — he was totally whack. We weren’t communicating, we bickered all the time, and he was just plain stupid. I mean it. I very nearly strangled him one day and that was the beginning of my breaking into pieces.

Picture this. It was a Wednesday and I was teleworking that day. The babysitter was at the house watching the baby and I took breaks to nurse (always quicker than pumping!) in between meetings and conference calls. I had a couple of deadlines in the afternoon. Sig-o decided he would go to a coffee shop to work on some stuff since he was having a hard time concentrating at home. I bid him farewell and kept on working. During an excruciatingly boring conference call, I ran around and did some laundry and fixed dinner and asked the babysitter to do a couple of things before she left. It was her day to leave early, and before leaving, sig-o promised he’d be back in time to take the baby so I didn’t have to worry about those deadlines. 2pm came and went and no sig-o. So I call and call and call and no answer. By 3pm the nanny left and still no sig-o. So now I’m trying to get a crying baby to sleep, the dog needs to go out and it’s raining, and sig-o still won’t answer his phone. FINALLY he calls and says “OMG I didn’t realize what time it is — my brother invited me to lunch and I lost track of time. I’m on my way home right now and I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” 30 minutes later he shows up and whisks the baby off and seems annoyed that I’m exasperated with the baby and pissed that’s he late.

I finish my work for the day, exhausted, and collapse on the living room floor. He comes downstairs and we have dinner and afterwards he tells me, “You seem really stressed out. Why don’t you take Mommy night today and go out.” I mumble back something about being too tired to go out even, and then he says, “No, you should really go out. Why don’t you go to the spa? That would make you feel so much better. That’s where I was today — it would really help you.”

Now just imagine footage of a nuclear bomb going off and a mushroom cloud, because that’s all I could see in my head. I wanted to kill him. Lucky for him that I was holding the baby and there was a counter between the two of us because I could so easily have strangled him right then and there. THE SPA? Are you shitting me? I’ve been busting my ass all day and I feel like shit as it is and you’ve been at THE FUCKING SPA? I was so furious, so enraged, that I literally couldn’t say anything. I just handed him the baby and left the room, shaking. He was still standing there looking dumbfounded, like “was it something I said?” Later I managed to say, “I thought you went to lunch with your brother today.” He says, “Yeah. We ate at the spa.” Grrrrrrr……

That little episode landed us in a few sessions of couple’s counseling and was the beginning of my unraveling. Things went downhill quickly from there and when I finally reached out for help he was surprised that things were as bad as they were. And he didn’t even know until recently just how bad things were. Since that time, though, he’s been a saint. I can’t ask for anything more…he’s been really helpful.

So I guess there are a few morals to this story: 1) Men are just stupid. 2) Really. They are. 3) Even if your sig-o is totally whack, too, there’s still a chance that he’ll turn it around and be the great guy you know he is.

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2 Responses to “The spa episode”

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. The Vaca Loca - April 3, 2011

    […] day though because every now and then he goes and pulls some stupid guy stunt… like the spa episode. I now chalk it up to brain damage from early parenthood sleep deprivation and having to live with […]

  2. You’ve come a long way, baby « The Vaca Loca - April 30, 2011

    […] The spa episode — the one where I very nearly killed sig-o before I got help […]

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