Here’s the thing about being married: you’re always going to have to have your own separate plans. Not necessarily the big-picture stuff, but you might have a conflicting idea about, say, what you might be doing that afternoon. And, as part of a committed, loving relationship, you’re constantly going to be navigating a path between those separate sets of plans.
Throwing a baby into the equation just means adding another set of plans to navigate. With a baby, however, the screamer always wins—at first anyway. Prior to the baby, the winner is a different matter.
“Excuse me,” you say (because you’re polite), “but do you have an example?”
You know I do.
Today, my big plan going in was to get the laundry done. I also had to go help Karli with something at work, do a little cleaning, then we were going to tackle the leftover dishes together. I also thought we made plans to prep our diapers this evening.
This is when I got clever. I figured we were already going to be doing some washing this evening, so why not throw our laundry in with that? Our friend is out of town for the week and offered to let us use her washer for the diapers. I figured I could save myself a trip to the hot nasty laundromat and surprise Karli by having the dishes done when she got home. Win-win.
Mid-afternoon, Karli calls and asks if I’ve started the laundry yet. I tell her my plan. She tells me why it’s a dumb plan because we weren’t going to do the diapers tonight as it would take a full day, not just an evening to get those done.
To make a long story short (too late), we went back and forth on the best way to do this. So where am I now?
You bet I am. Typing away on my iPhone and hoping to get done folding quickly enough before the weirdos come.
See, we follow Karli’s plan about 95% of the time. Four percent of the time, we compromise. My plans tend not to happen.
Parenthood should be cake.