All along, I've said I have the plum job in our family.
I am a stay-at-home dad, which I know and many of you know is a tough job in its own right, but as long as I am a stay-at-home dad, I'll never say it's a tougher job than that of my wife, no matter what job she has.
And I know from experience she has a very tough job now; she's a low-level manager. That, my friends, is a tough, tough job to have. I won't go on and on about why being a low-level manager is hard, so here's a summary: You get crap from everyone below you in the chain of command, and you get crap from everyone above you on that same chain (and somehow all the crap that's not in the chain of command somehow finds its way to your desk). And if you find yourself in the predicament my wife is in, working 12-13 hours a day with more than two hours commute each day, that pile of crap is an awfully hard pile of crap to shovel through, especially with no compensation for the extra hours or the commute.
I'm not going to say my wife has the hardest job in the world or that her job is tougher than your job. All I can say for sure is that her job is harder than mine.
Even if I'm at the verge of tearing hair from head because my toddler daughter is having one of her daily really bad moments (she's getting to be quite the feisty toddler daughter), I can find a way, usually, to calm her down and even get her back into a playful mood. Then I get my reward: a smile or a laugh or even a hug and kiss from my toddler daughter. Even if nobody shows me any appreciation for the job I have, I'll have that, even if I go bald from hair-pulling.
Not so for my wife.
If her job brings her to tears because a boss crawls down her throat or one of her workers throws a toddler-inspired hissy fit, my wife can work her tail off to appease them, often to no avail. I can assure you no playful mood, no smile, no laugh or no hug and kiss will come from it.
And after such a day, all she has to come home to is a cranky husband and a sleeping child (she should come home to a happy husband and a playful child, don't you think?).
And so I've come to realize (or I've known all along) that I do have the easier job, and even though I have the plum job, I haven't been doing a vital part of it very well.
I have not offered my wife a warm enough shoulder or a patient enough ear. I haven't held her enough, or kissed her enough. And then there's this one thing that every husband must learn but it's the toughest thing for him to learn: shut up and listen, just shut up and listen.
And so to my wife I say, "Cherish, I will work harder to give you a warm shoulder and a patient ear. I will shut up and listen."
I'm old enough to know I can't make a promise such as this and make it happen overnight, but I'll try to do the best I can for my wife.
I will try.
My best.
For my hard-working wife.
I am a stay-at-home dad, which I know and many of you know is a tough job in its own right, but as long as I am a stay-at-home dad, I'll never say it's a tougher job than that of my wife, no matter what job she has.
And I know from experience she has a very tough job now; she's a low-level manager. That, my friends, is a tough, tough job to have. I won't go on and on about why being a low-level manager is hard, so here's a summary: You get crap from everyone below you in the chain of command, and you get crap from everyone above you on that same chain (and somehow all the crap that's not in the chain of command somehow finds its way to your desk). And if you find yourself in the predicament my wife is in, working 12-13 hours a day with more than two hours commute each day, that pile of crap is an awfully hard pile of crap to shovel through, especially with no compensation for the extra hours or the commute.
I'm not going to say my wife has the hardest job in the world or that her job is tougher than your job. All I can say for sure is that her job is harder than mine.
Even if I'm at the verge of tearing hair from head because my toddler daughter is having one of her daily really bad moments (she's getting to be quite the feisty toddler daughter), I can find a way, usually, to calm her down and even get her back into a playful mood. Then I get my reward: a smile or a laugh or even a hug and kiss from my toddler daughter. Even if nobody shows me any appreciation for the job I have, I'll have that, even if I go bald from hair-pulling.
Not so for my wife.
If her job brings her to tears because a boss crawls down her throat or one of her workers throws a toddler-inspired hissy fit, my wife can work her tail off to appease them, often to no avail. I can assure you no playful mood, no smile, no laugh or no hug and kiss will come from it.
And after such a day, all she has to come home to is a cranky husband and a sleeping child (she should come home to a happy husband and a playful child, don't you think?).
And so I've come to realize (or I've known all along) that I do have the easier job, and even though I have the plum job, I haven't been doing a vital part of it very well.
I have not offered my wife a warm enough shoulder or a patient enough ear. I haven't held her enough, or kissed her enough. And then there's this one thing that every husband must learn but it's the toughest thing for him to learn: shut up and listen, just shut up and listen.
And so to my wife I say, "Cherish, I will work harder to give you a warm shoulder and a patient ear. I will shut up and listen."
I'm old enough to know I can't make a promise such as this and make it happen overnight, but I'll try to do the best I can for my wife.
I will try.
My best.
For my hard-working wife.
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