You cannot, it’s been pointed out more than once lately, “shrink” your own wife. I don’t think that’s what I do; in any case, I’ve never practiced clinical psychology so technically… I think it would be more accurate to say I’m a general pain in the ass, and go overboard trying to figure her out because I don’t want to repeat past mistakes. I don’t want to make assumptions and be wrong enough to make things worse. I do it anyway, and for that I will grab hold of the stereotype and blame gender.

My impulse is to fix things, even when I clearly understand I can’t. I want to understand how things and people work. To that end I drive my family a little bit nuts and they’re usually tolerant of it. Char knows me well enough to distract me with something else to contemplate when I’m getting on her nerves, but like she said, at three in the morning combining my tendency to over analyze with her current sensitivities (and I’m the first to admit she has every reason to be overly sensitive these days, with or without my marital cooperation) those two things aren’t a good combination.

I keep trying to put myself in her shoes: in pain, stepping back from daily routine, having to rely in someone else for help with everyday tasks, dependent on others for transportation and having to give up teaching TKD; she’s doing it without much complaint, she hides the pain from the kids, and truthfully I don’t think I could do it all. I’d be whining and more temperamental, and I’m certain my sense of self would take a giant nose dive.

I wish we could go back and start that conversation over, at a time when we’re both awake and thinking straight, but trust me, I get that I added to her list of things she has to deal with.

Here’s one of the wonderful things about my wife: while I’m still chewing on things, she’s over it and has moved onto something else. She forgives my stupid shit long before I can stop worrying about it. Considering the sheer amount of stupid shit I drop at her feet, that’s an amazing thing.

Another thing about my wife: she has no problems issuing ultimatums. Most of the time it’s for my own stubborn benefit and in spite of whatever misgivings I have, she’s almost always right in the things she puts her foot down over.

In that I don’t think I’m much different than our kids. I do and say some of the most monumentally stupid things, but at least they have age as an excuse. She balances me, and I learned a long time ago that if she gets to that point, it really is in my best interests to do what she says.

Resistance is futile. It gets me out of the doghouse early, anyway.

I could probably go home now, but tonight she wanted me to stick around until she was asleep. Her pain levels have jacked up quite a bit what with the getting in and out of bed and she just doesn’t feel like being alone. I get that. When I’m awake at three in the morning part of it is not wanting to be alone.

As long as she doesn’t try to manage it alone she can get up, and since she can get up they pulled the catheter this morning. She was relieved to be rid of it, mostly because Kevin has taken it upon himself to the collection bag periodically and to inform her that she’s obviously not drinking enough. He announces it in a very serious voice which I find funny as hell, but she’s had enough. She’s coping with the indignities of having to have help and I’m not very sympathetic because I’ve been there and suffered through her telling me to get the hell over myself.

Tomorrow we should know more about when we can expect her to be released. I’m amazed at how much better she gets every day, though the pain of PT might set her back a day or two. After we talk to her doctor tomorrow I have to go into work for a little while and put in for a leave of absence. It could be sticky because I haven’t been at this job very long but it’s with the same agency, so theoretically I have enough backlogged vacation and sick days that it shouldn’t be an issue.

The kids need her home. Just visiting for an hour a couple of times a day isn’t cutting it. They’re not sleeping very well, either. I’ve had Kevin in bed with me two nights in a row, and had both Rachel and Alex wandering through the house in the middle of the night. Rachel does not want to discuss with me the things that are bothering her, but she’s talking to Alex. Alex is talking to me, which frankly amazes me when you consider how hard we’ve been butting heads this summer.

The gist of it is that I obviously know nothing about female biology and would be useless to her, so Alex found himself standing in a drugstore with his sister trying to help her figure out what supplies she needed. They could have asked Brad, who was forced to wait by the door, but he too is monumentally stupid and women hide from both of us during “that time.” I don’t know why she thought her 13 year old brother would know more than I do, but he’s convinced they picked out the wrong thing (they did) and before I head home I have to fix it without letting my daughter know that I know. Because she certainly is not going to talk to me about THAT.

Char thinks it’s funny. She told Rachel to talk to me but the mortification is too much to overcome, I guess. Char is also a little upset because this is something she felt like she needed to be there for Rachel. I would have thought either parent would suffice, but again, I am stupid. I’ve determined that the older my kids get, the stupider I will become.