Mud & Mayhem

Let me preface this by saying I love my husband very much and genuinely would not want to do this life with anyone else.

Now that that’s out of the way — let’s get into why the throat punch is basically on a recurring calendar invite at this point.

I am a Type A personality. I have a plan. I have a backup plan. I have contingencies for the backup plan and a color-coded spreadsheet for the contingencies. I do not fly by the seat of my pants. I do not figure it out as I go. I figure it out in advance, and then I figure out what could go wrong, and then I plan for that too.

My husband is none of those things.

He is the living embodiment of we’ll figure it out. And honestly? That’s exactly why I married him. He balances me out. Between the two of us we cover the full spectrum of human personality and it works — most of the time, beautifully.

And then there are the other times.

Someone needs to fund a serious scientific study on the compartmentalization of the male brain versus the female brain, because I am living the data in real time and it is fascinating. My husband can look at a situation, identify the surface problem, address it, and move on. Clean. Linear. Done.

Meanwhile I am over here running seventeen parallel processes simultaneously. Not just the problem in front of me — but what caused the problem, what the problem might mean for the future, whether the problem is a phase or a pattern, whether we’re handling the problem correctly, and whether our approach to the problem will someday be something a therapist brings up in a session twenty years from now.

Take a simple toddler outburst. My husband’s read: he screamed, that’s disrespectful, we address it. My read: why did he scream? Is he dysregulated? Did something happen at school? Is he overtired or overstimulated? Does he need firm boundaries right now or does he need a hug? Is this a gentle parenting moment or a strong parenting moment? Should I be worried about this pattern? Does he want me to talk or does he want me to just listen? All of this happening in approximately four seconds while the kid is still mid-scream.

Same child. Same moment. Completely different operating systems.

And listen — I love that my husband is who he is. I really do. But I am also raising two tiny versions of him and some days my eye twitches in a way that concerns me.

And it’s not just the big parenting moments — it’s the small ones too. Case in point: my four-year-old is currently in the repeat everything phase. And I mean everything. We went from croissant and latte being his new favorite words after one Starbucks trip — adorable, we love that — to my husband casually saying deer crap in the backyard and now my child walks around the yard asking, at full volume, “where is the deer crap? crap crap crap crap crap” like a tiny unhinged nature enthusiast.

I love my husband.

I am also raising two small button-pushers who learned from the best.

The eye twitch is basically permanent at this point.

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Does anyone else have those moments where you’re one comment away from charging at your husband like a golden retriever who just spotted a squirrel? What sets it off? Tell me the recurring theme in your house — I need to know I’m not alone.