Day 1 of The Truce

In therapy last night, Mr. Supportive and I declared a truce. He did agree not to drink last night, and to the best of my knowledge, he didn't. Much more pleasant evening than I was expecting - although not without hiccoughs. (Why isn't that word spelled "hiccups" anyway?)

Therapy was a blow out. I'm a lot angrier than I had thought. Fortunately I got a lot of it expressed and out of my system, that makes my stress level lower. So, the therapist got us to declare this truce and we agreed to come back on this coming Thursday. We're in crisis. I agree. Mr. Supportive thinks I'm exaggerating. I'm thinking he's out Cleo-ing Cleopatra, Queen of Denial.

Whatever. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle and, frankly, all that really matters is DS.

In an effort to be all truceful, last night I cleaned the two bathrooms, the cat litter and did a load of laundry. To get to the laundry, I had to clear a path through all the boxes and crap that's downstairs in the basement. Duly cleared. Mr. Supportive's idea of acknowledging that I was doing any housework at all was to criticize the way that I was cleaning out the cat litter. I finally said to him - look, can't you just be glad that I'm doing something rather than trying to dictate how I'm doing it? He was not pleased about that response and slammed the front door at me. Not that the door slams really well, but he tried.

So, you might be wondering, what did Mr. Supportive do with himself and DS last night? Well, thanks for asking, I'll tell ya. He played with the baby some and made sure that videos were running the whole while, took off the baby's diaper when I asked him to change the diaper, complained about that and then whined that the lights were too bright and, the minute I slowed down, raced upstairs to lay down in the dark. I swear, that man can't last past 8:30 on any given night. He's either drunk, tired, sick or headachy. I did notice that, once DS saw I was cleaning the bathtub and climbed in, Mr. Supportive headed himself right down the stairs to watch TV. Bright TV lights and all. Poor guy, that musta been some headache.