Dresser Drama

It always seems to be two steps forward and one step back, doesn't it? I was feeling all liberated yesterday. This morning I was supposed to sleep in a little and let Mike get the kids ready. The problem was I eventually needed to get dressed. At the moment there is a sandbags-on-the-shoreline style barricade arond my dresser. My poor dresser sits in close proximity to Mike's desk. Mike is a slob. The spillage gets out of control sometimes and the overflowing mess can potentially cut me off from half of my room.

Some days back it occurred to me that there was a simple answer. Instead of having drama and demanding he pick up or be on hand whenever I'm ready to get dressed , we just move the dresser. Ta-da! My problem solver powers are great. Unfortunately so are his powers of procrastination. Although we had a simple solution and it would only take him moments to execute it had not happened as of this morning.

I tried to stay asleep, but anxiety gripped me. I'd get up after he was gone to the office and attempt to climb over the piles to my dresser and hurt myself and no one would be there to meet Isaac after school. Worse physical therapy this week would be shot. I decided to get up and have Mike help me before he left. I picked out clothes for Riley and started dressing her while I waited for Mike to emerge. He came out of the bathroom grumpy and annoyed. He had to get my clothes in the middle of getting ready of work and the fact that they kids were now both ready was no consolation.

While he was sighing and retrieving my clothes I burst into tears. It wasn't my best moment, but I was sick of this shit! No girl should have to depend on a boy to pick out her clothes. I was tired and if I hadn't needed help I would have still been in bed. I got dressed and kissed the kids and laid down for another 30min before I started my busy day.

When I was putting Riley to bed tonight I heard Mike moving the dresser! It's such a relief to know my clothes will be accessible from now on. It's a microcosm of how I feel about my physical limitations. I don't have to run marathons I just want to dress myself. It's also, a microcosm for marriage: I could have yelled, screamed, cried and reasoned with Mike for who knows how long about keeping his mess away from my dresser, but in the end that's his workspace and he's a slob. I will never be happy being dependent on him for things I could do myself. So we move the dresser and don't expect anyone to be someone they're not.