My God. Husband must be having some kind of mid-life crisis, which is worrying in itself as he's only 35. He has been out drinking so many times in the last 6 months I have lost count. This is not casual 'pint down the local' drinking, by the way, this is 'teenage-style inebriated, can't remember what happened to my shoe' drinking. You know, the sort of drinking we used to get away with at university when we could lose 4 days of our life recovering then get fun flashbacks of all the crazy stuff we got up to. It's getting quite worrying.
At first I thought, what an arse. Then I thought, clearly he has an issue at work that he's stressed about, I shall just keep schtum, let him blow off steam and see what occurs. Next time it happened I moved onto 'maybe he's having an affair and is drinking away the guilt...' and now I'm back on, what an arse.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not being totally unsympathetic to a developing alcohol problem. If I thought for one moment that we were in serious uh-oh territory we would be staging interventions left, right and centre (a reason to organise a gathering with invites and a guest list, just say the word!) In actual fact, after much thought and discussion with both Husband and various girlfriends I think it's merely a case of tolerance levels dropping drastically due to less frequent drinking and increasing age and him not taking that into account when he's out with friends. He seems genuinely confused every time it happens as he swears blind he's not had excessive amounts to drink. Initially, I put this down to plain lies because normally as he mumbles it he's got his head down the toilet, is sitting on the end of our bed sobbing or is clutching his head after smacking it into the car door. But clearly it's true. His alcohol tolerance has reduced but so has his ability to retain any pertinent information as soon as his being crosses the threshold of an establishment selling Grolsch?!
So in the end we have come to various conclusions. Clearly, men are shit at telling the truth about anything, not least the amount they've had to drink and also they have definite trouble remembering the last time they went out drinking, thought they hadn't had that much and yet wound up vomming into their jeans as they sat on the loo at 3am sobbing (not a true story, of course, just completely fabricated for comedy purposes)
There were many reasons why the whole thing riled me. For starters Husband was out socialising with friends, something I choose to do once in a blue moon. Then there was the fact that, attentive and loving father that he is, I am fairly confident that the children didn't cross his mind once while he was out. Follow that up with the fact that childcare the following morning had not been discussed or arranged, he just assumed that I would take the lead while he lay around groaning.
But obvious issues aside, the whole scenario made me quite cross at myself really. I never go out for the night, get trollied and stumble home singing loudly and out of tune. This is not Husband's fault. I did all my wild nights out drinking in the years we were first a couple and, truth be told, I really have no interest in repeating them. I love going out with friends for a meal and a few cocktails, but the fear of the dreaded hangover means that I know my limit and rarely cross it. For me, it's just not worth the (literal) pain.
I was mad too that I initially excused his behaviour due to him being busy at work, working hard, needing time to relax and unwind. Thing is, I work hard too and don't expect him to carry me upstairs when I come home from the pub!
As for the children, maybe I can't really be cross at him about not worrying about them? Maybe it's testament to his faith in my abilities as their mother, their primary caregiver? Also, it must be so different being a Dad. My heart literally hurts when I think of my children being hurt in any way, it is crippling at times. And while I have no doubt that Husband loves them and wouldn't hesitate to put himself in harm's way should the need arise to rescue them, maybe a father's love is different somehow? I angst about them sleeping, about their routine...I admit it must be nice to be able to go out for the evening and not have those worries bouncing around your brain constantly!
As for the morning after the night before, I know I am a rod for my own back. I pack every bag, make every lunch, write down detailed instructions if I leave the house for however short a time...I do get up with the children every day and on the whole I'm happy to do so. I like things done the way I like things done. And while I'm sure he takes advantage of that fact when he's feeling less than amazing, maybe I need to be less regimented and more flexible. Imagine his face the next time someone woke in the night if I rolled over and just mumbled 'you go darling, do what you think is best...' God the thought of it brings me out in chills!
But I must try to be more relaxed and maybe make more of a concerted effort to go out and let my hair down too. I am going to book a weekend at the spa and NOT prescribe every single waking second for the boys while I'm gone. I shall also be posting photographic evidence the next time Husband decides to let himself down in such an epic and embarrassing way. Coz you know, that's just fair!!
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