MAMA ROSE....The Real Scoop on the Poop

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2008-11-28, 2:47 p.m.

I wish I could tell you things got better, but they didn't. They got worse first.

First my husband and I had a fight about the fact that he and his mother talk about me in Greek. He didn't know I knew, but I caught on to it fast. Every time she talks softly to him I know she's doing it. Which is stupid because she knows I don't speak the language.

My husband finally admitted that they'd been discussing the whole baby thing and he had told her, "What can I tell you, she's old."

"OLD, you told her I'm old, that we're not having another baby because I'm OLD?"

"Yeah."

I didn't say anything. I probably should have.

My husband is a fucking liar. He told me he agreed with me, that we didn't have the money or anyone to help out, so trying again for another baby really didn't make sense.

Then he turns around and tells his mother it's because I'm old.

What a fucking coward. He didn't want to admit to her that he agreed with my decision. So he put it on my age.

Then we argued about all the shit he and his mother have been feeding my son. I try to bite my tongue, but cannot. If it were an occasional cheeto, or a bite of a cookie every so often I probably could turn a blind eye. But every time I turn around the two of them are feeding him Cheetos, White Bread, chocolate, protein shakes, cookies, Pepsi and these fried things my MIL makes out of white flour, eggs and feta cheese.

Regardless of my husband being pissed off at me when I told him I'd had enough and he was NOT to give my son anymore Pepsi, he took me out to a movie Friday night. I sat through the new James Bond movie full of tension and doubt.

Can we make this work?

We are two very different people.

We have a choice to make. Either accept the fact that we are different and stop trying to change one another, or get a divorce.

Fuck.

We got married too quickly. Can you believe that it took me this long to figure that out? Now we're bound together for life because of our son - the best thing that ever happened to both of us, but also makes it difficult to even think about walking away.

The next day....Thanksgiving....I sat at home until 1 o'clock waiting for my husband and his mom to come back from a tour of the Statue of Liberty so I could have some sort of Thanksgiving celebration. Difficult because my husband doesn't think of it as a holiday because he's from Greece but he knows that I do, so each year he takes me out for an obligatory Turkey dinner.

When he arrived home I could tell he'd been fighting with his mom because he was swearing at her.

But he said, "Come with me and let's go get some food. You can get some Turkey from the diner down the street."

I told him it didn't matter if I had Turkey or not. But it did. It mattered a lot. I just didn't know it at the time.

And then off we headed to the diner but I noticed my husband was still cursing under his breath and in a pissy mood. Was he about to ruin my Thanksgiving?

Then the phone rang, it was Lola calling from Seattle to wish me a happy day. I ended the conversation by telling her I loved her and hung up.

Hubby seemed even more pissed off after my phonecall. I was surprised he didn't ask who it was. I think he assumed it was my friend Martin because I eventually got him to tell me what the hell was bugging him and it had to do with my friend Martin.

Three days ago I had coffee with Martin. I left the baby at home with my MIL, went to the bank, picked up a few things at the drugstore and met Martin for about an hour and a half, then stopped at the supermarket for milk so that my husband could make his protein shake. (My point being I didn't neglect my responsibilities that day, I was able to accomplish a lot while also seeing my friend).

That night when I told my husband I'd seen Martin for coffee he got all bent out of shape and I got pissed off. My husband backed down. He's been doing that a lot lately, much to his credit, which shows me he's making an effort.

BUT not yesterday. Not on Thanksgiving.

He told me he was pissed off because there was no CABBAGE in the house, and he'd wanted a cabbage salad, and I should have picked some fucking cabbage up at the grocery store after having coffee with Martin.

I realized immediately that this was NOT about the damn cabbage. It was about Martin. He had not let it go.

Even though I'd told him months ago that he'd better start being a little more understanding about my need to see my friends, here he was trying to make me feel bad.

I stood my ground, there on the overpass above the Brooklyn Queens Expressway, by telling him I'm not a fucking mind reader. If he wanted me to get cabbage he should have told me.

"And by the way I go to the grocery store two to three times a week and you have dinner on the table every day so what is your problem?"

And then told him I didn't want the damn Turkey dinner he was buying me out of obligation. That I'd had it and I was going home.

I stormed home, and he followed behind me. When i got home I scooped my son up and sobbed on the couch with my MIL watching all of this take place, a helpless expression on her face.

My husband walked in swearing at both of us.

This only upset me more so I put my coat back on, grabbed my cell phone, my keys and some cash and left.

I'd had enough.

Long story short my husband tried to make it up to me last night when I got back. He went to the grocery store and came back with food for his mother to cook and insisted that I come out of the bedroom and join him and his mother at the dinner table for pork chops and that he'd even open an expensive bottle of wine for the occasion.

I refused. Said I wasn't in the mood.

Truth was I had a lot on my mind. I'd told his mother when he'd left for the grocery store that it was over between her son and I. And I meant it.

I was tired. So tired of his moods and his swearing and carrying on about stupid shit. I was trying to figure out if I could learn to live with it or if it was time to move on, when he opened the bedroom door and invited me to the table.

I should have gone. But he needed to know that I could not be won over by a damn pork chop dinner.

I wasn't even in the mood for pork chops.

I wanted TURKEY and stuffing and mashed potatoes. I started to cry. That's when I realized how important that turkey dinner was.

I wanted him to feel bad. I admit it. I wanted him to wonder if I was really going to leave this time.

I wanted him to think long and hard about his behavior and how it had effected our relationship.

I was ready to fall off to sleep on an empty stomach when his mother came in the bedroom and insisted over and over again then I come to the table.

I stopped refusing her and finally relented. She was trying to bring us together. Trying to make everything okay again. I felt bad.

So I ate some pork chops, and a little cabbage salad (fucking cabbage) and then I went back to bed.

This morning I woke up feeling better. But I certainly haven't forgotten how my husband singlehandedly ruined my Thanksgiving.

I hope we can make this work.

I told him last night during my anger and tears that maybe we're no good together if we can't make each other happy what's the point?

Look, when it's good it's really good.

And when it's bad it's really bad.

What can I tell you.

If we didn't love each other it would have been over a long time ago.

YESTERDAY - TODAY

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author

I am a 39 year old, stay at home mother of a beautiful baby boy. I got married late in life when I was 35, and had my son at 38. Although I never planned on marriage or children, my husband and son are the best thing that could have happened to me (regardless of how much I bitch and moan). My passion is for travel and cooking. I also love to write and have been blogging on d-land since 2003. (Click HERE to read more.)

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