Scott and I never fight. I'm not bragging; it's just the truth. I defer to him on most things because he is smart, rational, calm, and deliberate in his decision making. I, on the other hand, while intelligent, am more passionate, irrational, creative, and rash in my decision-making. So, you see, it is not difficult for me to lovingly accept Scott's decisions as...well...better...
Until summer comes...
For the past nine months, I have made the daily decisions about the kids' routines, rules for daily activities (and interactions), TV usage, trampoline usage, apparel choices, hairdos, water play, mess making, mess cleaning, etc. Daddy comes home in the evenings, leads in prayer and dinner activity, assists with bedtime, and that's about it.
And then comes summer...when my glorious knight in shining armor (a teacher) gets to come home and rescue me from the single parenting life I heretofore have led.
Daddy is home...with us...all day long! Hurray...errrr...maybe not?
Because, you see, I am used to calling the shots during the day. And as well-intentioned as he is, anything he does is going to step all over that. And the poor guy can't catch a break. Just about everything I said to the kids today, he had said or subsequently said something opposite. And the kids started to catch on. And I became annoyed.
Mommy: "No, you can't go on the trampoline right now because I can't come out to supervise until I finish my indoor chores. Please go play with blocks."
Daddy (without consulting mommy): "Oh, sure, go play on the trampoline and invite over some overly energetic aggressive friends to join you in there to ensure imminent injury. Oh, and I'm not going to supervise you while you're out there."
(I'm not quoting here, just relaying what must have occurred. Because within minutes of my simple edict, my normally obedient to me children, were on the tramp and there was crying and blood and "trampoline stress." Yes, I coined a term for it because the trampoline is such an anxiety producing activity to me.)
This is a small example of the stepping on each others' parental toes that is occurring during this summer transition period.
The day ended without good nights and with some silent passes in the halls.
It will get better. It always does. But, the summer transition is the pits.
I hope the baby waits until her parents are speaking to each other again to make her appearance.