The Man and I recently signed the lease on a new place. It's a fixer-upper and a downsize, but we get a fireplace, a yard (also a fixer-upper) and my cat back. The landlord has pretty much given us free reign with the place, and has even offered to reimburse us if it turns out nice. We're actually super excited about it.
See, The Man and I both work in areas where it's sometimes hard to see the fruits of your labors. He'll program for 20+ hours and end up with a tiny blob that reacts to other tiny blobs on the screen. I'll lesson plan and grade and stress and end up with kids that don't even try to turn in any of the work they do. You feel like you're putting in all of your time for a thankless task, and it can get really depressing.
Cleaning, remodeling, and yard work are the opposite.
We are so dang excited about this new place because we've been setting goals, planning actions, and working with our hands, and at the end we can actually see what we've changed! Yesterday we spent over 4 hours just cleaning up the house and yard, and it felt awesome. It's nowhere near where we want it to be, but we can actually see a change in the place already. Hurrah!
It was a conversation during yesterday's cleaning that inspired this post.
Me: Hey [The Man], can you help me with this?
TM: Definitely. Actually, let me do it; you're pregnant.
M: Hah. I don't like using that; it feels like an excuse to-
TM: An excuse for me to be manly? An excuse for you to be womanly?
M: Am I not usually womanly?
TM: Well you're not like, "oh, TM, I'm so helpless!" You're pretty independent.
M: Huh.
It's not like The Man has a medieval view on gender roles; he's very supportive of my goals in life. When I told him I'd like to try to go back to school for sonography he got excited and encouraged me to take the online class I needed. We've talked a lot about the possibility of both of us working when our kids are in school.
At the same time though, I think it bugs him a bit that I'm more of a Wonder Woman than a Lois Lane. I rarely give him the opportunity to be the big strong man. And aye, there's the rub.
See, I LIKE being independent. I'm proud that I can change a tire, move heavy furniture, be the breadwinner, and stand up for myself. I'm not going to change that. I am not the type of person to let someone else make all the big decisions without my say in the matter. I know that I am capable and intelligent and hard-working and I'll be damned if I pretend that I'm not. I want my daughters to have that same sense of self-worth; that same ability to function on their own and be tough.
On the other hand, I sometimes wonder how much my independence bulldozes The Man's independence. He's such an easy-going guy that it's I often find myself telling him what to do, and that's no good either. And just like I sometimes want to be told that I'm beautiful and appealing, he sometimes likes to show that he's strong and capable of providing for me; it's kind of cruel for me to deny him those opportunities.
I think I just need to find a balance. Somehow.
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