I am not a person to cry on someone's shoulder. Personal difficulties stay within the circle of the hubby and myself. It's not to make it look like we are the perfect family and have the perfect life. We definitely don't.
It is a lonely (for lack of a better word) predicament that we put ourselves in. I just can't justify sharing my problems with others. All they can really offer is support, not answers. I know there are other people in the world have it worse than us, and they putter on and live. I feel like I should, too.
Life is life and you roll with it or it eats you up. The day starts over with the rising sun and you have a chance to change it to where you need to. It may take 365 suns to get there, though.
Now, if I gave myself some slack and could complain about one thing...it would be my darling husband. I love him. He is my savior on days when I feel like screaming but some days he is the reason I feel like screaming.
Before I get ahead of myself, he gave me permission to complain about him!
What about him? Sex. Yes, I know...my children and my (sometimes) upside-down life are too personal to complain about, but I can talk about sex?
We are both in our 30's, but seem to live different lives hormonally. He's a raging teenager where I'm a 50 year old, walker using, old woman. He's like, "Afternoon quickie?" and I'm thinking, "I'll be exhausted in the middle of the day and the boy's don't go to bed UNTIL 8:30?" We are polar opposites.
We do have a theory. That he has an extra pheromone chromosome. If that's even possible. Like I said, all theory. He jokes that the military shot, that they can give recruits to lower their sex drive during basic training or long missions, wouldn't work on him. Enough is never enough for him.
Now am I insane? Wouldn't a normal person want their significant other of 13 years to still be into them? Not just into them like its a slippers-after-dinner, you-want-a-Tums before bed kind of relationship but like they first started dating? Especially after two kids.
How am I dealing with this? Not well.
I really have no means to complain according to Mr. Let's-Just-Do-It. He works 12 hours and then is ready to go when he gets home. Then again when he wakes up. Then again before he goes to work. And then he's on repeat every day of the week.
I feel like an old vinyl record, forever scratching out the word, "No."