I go through life, as most people do, with expectations. Sometimes, those expectations are really low, sometimes they’re really high and sometimes they’re in the middle.  When it comes to my son, my expectations tend to be high, as they should be. This includes how Izzy and I interact when it comes to his care and how we deal with each other when we’re around him (because he’s observing every little thing that we do after all). My expectations are especially high when it comes to my communication with Izzy and vice versa. I expect to be told in advance when he has an appointment scheduled after work that will cause me to be the sole caretaker of our son for the night. I honestly love caring for our son, but it’s physically and mentally draining and I need to prepare myself for it after a long, full day of fighting with Judges, clients and prosecutors.  So today, when I got home at 6 with my son (after a field trip to the library, which he loves), to find that my husband scheduled a 7:00 appointment with a car dealer in Manchester that he didn’t tell me about until I got home, I got really upset. And, quite frankly, I’m still annoyed by it.

To give Izzy credit where credit is due, I knew that he wanted to get a new car – we both are getting new vehicles.  He test drove a couple over the weekend.  And he told me that he “probably, maybe” going today to get it. Now, I’m an attorney.  I put a lot of stock in little words like “maybe” and probably and shall.  It’s the nit pickiness that comes with practicing in an area of law that relies heavily on statutes. When someone says “maybe” and/or probably, I don’t get the same impression as if they had said that they are going or shall be going. One is all wishy washy and indecisive and not set in stone, while the other is a for sure thing.  So when Izzy told me “probably, maybe” I didn’t think that he had anything set in stone so I was caught majorly off guard today.

It also doesn’t help that Nate is extremely fussy right now – he’s getting his teeth. He spent the last two hours crying and squirming and finally fell asleep.  It’s yet another reason that I really wanted him to tell me so that I could prepare myself for it because my son takes just as much energy as I’m sure that I did to care for.  And just a note, my husband left at 6:30 and still isn’t home. I told him he’d be home at 9, and he denied it. I can’t wait to see his face when I say that I told him so…


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