The egg thing happened again. (see post)
Several times in the past few weeks, I have not had time to bake my ground turkey meatloaf –kind-of-thing that I usually have for breakfast. On these occasions, he has offered to make eggs for me.
This morning, I again, I had eaten all my “meatloaf,” so I asked him if he would make eggs for me. I normally eat at 7:00. He often is already eating by this time.
But this morning, he didn’t even go into the kitchen to start the eggs until 10 after.
It makes me crazy! I am on a pretty tight schedule in the morning to get out of the door and on my way to work. I counted on him having the eggs made by seven. My mistake.
(He is more flexible with his time, since he has his own business and kinda does what he wants. Also, he is fine with making eggs for me on time when it is his idea.)
This morning, when I realized what time the eggs weren’t ready, I was upset and then began wondering if he does this intentionally. Or subconsciously intentionally. Or if he is just clueless.
You know, last night, he asked me what kind of tree we have growing in our front yard, so I figured that out for him, since I know quite a bit more about plants than he does. I listened to him tell me about building his vegetable garden (although when I wanted to do the same thing several years ago, it was a stupid, expensive idea. Of course.)
The evening wasn’t terrible and I – yet again – was thinking, maybe I can do this (well, except for the sex thing and that my daughters hate him.)
This is so passive aggressive. A relatively pleasant evening. A connection of some sort. Oops. Can’t have that closeness. Gotta do something to sabotage it. Late with the eggs.
Yes. I know. It sounds crazy.
I started thinking about trust.
I can’t trust my husband. I can’t trust him to make eggs for me when I ask him to at the time I need them. And that is the tiniest of things I can’t trust him about. The list goes on and on from there. (If you read my blog at all, you will see many examples of how I can’t trust him.)
Then I realized that, to some degree, I couldn’t trust my parents, either.
I had never thought of that before.
When I was two and a half, I was sent away to live with another family because my mother was deathly ill. But think how that would have affected a little child!
As I got older, I learned that my parents were deeply in debt and if I wanted to go the schools that I wanted to, I had to provide for that myself.
Even emotionally, I had to look out for myself. They were busy, they tended to be a little more critical, rather than loving, so it wasn’t safe to share thoughts.
I’ve never thought about this before.
And I grew up and married a man that I wouldn’t be able to trust.
Shortly after we were married, my dad died. A couple years later, my mom turned against me. (There is a paragraph about it in this post.) We don’t have a good, close relationship to this day, even though we get along okay.
In the book, “Why Do I Keep Doing That, Why Do I Keep Doing That,” the author discusses the fact that a person will repeat in adulthood what they knew in childhood, simply because it is familiar, even if it is harmful.
I need to get myself out of this cycle.
And make my own breakfast.