Give Less, Get More?

This goes totally against my female thought processes. Stop giving.

When we were listening to the Venus/Mars book on tape, this topic was discussed. It was an eye-opener to me. Men are keeping score. I don't consciously keep score. Never have. Giving is just second nature. Being helpful to family members is a reflex.

My hubby needs a hand, dinner, or didn't get to the dishes... I help. Since he is keeping score, he owes me for each favor I do him. This was news to this brain. I help because I choose to. If I didn't want to give, I have that option. Each time he did something for the family or for me, he then felt he was caught up. He had given back. I see him working away, feel guilty because I am playing Sudoku, and pick up my pace. Then he has to catch up again. Poor guy. It would helped if I was aware of the scoreboard years ago.

This last weekend, he invited several guys over to watch football. He says he wants to keep it "simple." This is said to reduce any stress I may be feeling about what to serve. I normally cook a couple things and spend the game time running food and drinks up and down the steps. So I call him on it. "Sweetheart. I am glad you are having friends over. Are any of the wives coming?" No. They weren't invited. He assumed (no doubt, correctly) that they would rather have the afternoon free. "So," I say, "I could go shopping during your game?" After a brief moment of shock, he says, "OK. I can get the food." My look of disbelief spoke volumes. But he never fails to amaze me. He says, "I don't usually get the food because you do. If you don't I will."

Sheesh. Why didn't I think of that. All these years, I just needed to sit down. His sense of scorekeeping would have caused him to take a shift being the host. Now, if only I liked football.

Husband Earns Points

As we have practiced how to get along together over many years of marriage, my husband has become a bit of an expert on the politically correct way to say things to me. Perhaps this was spurred on my some angry outbursts on my part, but either way, he has persuasion down to a fine art.

If he wants me to switch the laundry, he doesn't ask, "Could you switch the laundry today." He carefully weaves, "[Sigh] I didn't have time to switch the laundry this morning. I can get to it when I get home tonight." This works on several levels. If I am also overwhelmed, it will wait until tonight, and so goes our crazy life. Buuuuut, since he knows I try to help him when he is overwhelmed, I will probably go down and switch the laundry, with a smile on my face. We're both happier.

Compliments are nice, and kind words go far. He has provided these during our entire relationship. Somehow the understanding of how to ask for my help or cooperation without raising my hackles has an even bigger impact on the day-to-day life together.

This is not the only art he has mastered over the years. He discovered a few years ago that flowers or cooking sooth the savage wife-beast. I smell cinnamon at this moment while he is making chocolate bread pudding. And we didn't even have an argument. He just discovered that in addition to being fun, cooking special treats earns him points. 'Cause if the wife ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Next task, the art of talking to the kids.