At work, I call myself Murphy Brown because just like on that show, we can’t hold on to a decent nanny/office assistant. Within less than a couple weeks at most, Lou would fire them, or they would quit or simply become a no-show and not return calls. It would be easier if I could just hire a good nanny for Anjelica instead of getting a person capable of working with Lou.
He has been obviously frustrated with life and perhaps clinically depressed the last several months. My suggestion to seek professional counseling did not go over well. He was bored and stagnant and wanted to do something different to expand or improve or grow in some significant way. He talked a lot about returning to college to get a PhD but wasn’t inspired by any professors in programs we found. He deeply feels the loss of his dad, not just from his death, but from his mental image of an ideal father as a mentor, guide and role model for his son.
He recently started flying lessons, partly because his dad was always interested in aviation, and if he were alive, they would finally connect on that topic. Mostly, flying challenges him to learn and grow. I support it because if he has a pilot’s license, there will be more places we can go and things we can do together as a family. We rarely go anywhere because he has to drive long distances for work, and he never wants to travel for leisure or to visit family. I mostly support it because it makes him happier. If he’s happier, then I’m happier.
Maybe now he won’t be constantly logged onto America Online. They charge by the hour, and we’ve been billed of hundreds of dollars some months. If he is willing to pay that much, he’s probably addicted to something about it. I am so sick of hearing the tappety tappety tap clicks of him typing away in multiple chat rooms and instant messaging with women. I don’t know what is worse, when I walk in his office and see that he’s flirting with some woman, or when he closes out the windows in a panic as I step through the door. He says it is only fun talk for him, and that it doesn’t mean anything. But I see and remember the screen names and look up their profile online to find they live locally or in places where he’s consulting. If it is just online fun, then why are they close enough to meet in person?
I often wake up to find he got out of bed in the middle of the night to go back online. He thinks I can’t hear through the closed door, but the modem’s beeps and screeching wake me up. He has no clue that I like to screw with him by briefly picking up the bedside phone extension to break the connection, and then pretend to be sound asleep when he wanders the house to figure out why he got booted. Once in a while he gives up, but typically keeps logging back on, and it’s me who finally gives up on picking up the receiver because I really do fall back asleep.
This AOL bullsh*t totally pisses me off, but when I complained about him being online so much, he freaked out, arguing that he’s got nothing else and does nothing else for himself. He doesn’t have other friends to hang out with, he doesn’t go out drinking or to sports, so I’m a lucky wife compared to what other husbands do. I tried to explain that it feels bad to sit alone in the next room, knowing he would rather talk to strangers online than talk to me. I brought up the fact that he’s only chatting with females, and that looks like he’s actively hunting for other women. In response to that, he lowered his voice, and slowly warned me that he is not doing that now, but if I continue to nag and accuse him, then it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy, and I will be the one who made it happen. Totally defeated, I just raised my hands to my face, rubbed my temples, turned and walked away. I should know by now that I always lose whether I say anything or not. The only difference is that if I keep my mouth shut, then I don’t have to hear that it’s my fault.
I don’t know what else in life I’m supposed to be doing that I’m not. We have sex whenever and pretty much however he wants. I lost all the pregnancy weight and stay in good shape by working out with him. I support him with his business, both emotionally and physically by helping with writing, editing, seminars, and whatever else he needs. I keep our house spotless. I prepare delicious home-cooked meals. I have a great job with good income and benefits, get home at normal times, and save any after-hours work I have to do on my laptop for when Lou and Anjelica are both asleep. I am a good mother. I don’t make a lot of demands. I actually don’t think I make any demands on him for that matter. Yet he isn’t happy just being with me.