Proving a Point

  As I embark on my third year of being Mrs. Tad Hopkins, I still find it necessary to prove myself as a wife, a mother, and a person.  Whether it's proving that I am willing to continue to stack trash in and on top of the can as high as possible until it's taken out - Or if it's proving that I can in fact give Tad the silent treatment the entire hour and a half car ride to his parents house because he refused to turn around the car to let me get my round brush that I left at home, along with my makeup bag and underwear and that phone charger he told me to pack.  I don't know why I try so hard to be stubborn...I'm pretty sure it all started when I was a kid and I would punish my parents by not eating and just sitting quietly at the table...I sure showed them.  Last night however, I think I finally made my point to Tad...I am as nuts as I seem.

I have We have been working on potty training with Libby since her second birthday last August.  A little after Christmas Libby decided she was finally ready to wear big girl panties and get rid of the diapers.  She has been doing great, the only time she wears a diaper is at bedtime and nap time...when I don't forget to put one on her, and yesterday I forgot.  She had fallen asleep watching cartoons in our bed and it completely slipped my mind - until she came out of the bedroom wearing no pants because she "tee teed in Mommy's big guhl bed".  So I took off the sheets, dry cleaned the mattress, threw everything in the washer and went on with the day.  When Tad came home and saw the bed stripped he knew there had been an accident...first words out of his mouth:
Tad:  Did you clean up the pee?
Me:  No
Tad:  What?  Why? 
Me:  Because I'm an idiot
Tad:  So...did you really clean it up?
Me:  (a very exaggerated) Yes you moron
Tad:  Why are you sighing
Me:  Because you ask stupid questions
Tad:  What did you clean it up with?
Me:  ::Silence::

Later on that night as we got into bed, Tad started tossing and turning.  He kept getting up and looking at the imaginary pee spot, rubbing his hand over it and muttering under his breath.  Finally he says to me:
"I don't know if I'm just imagining it because I know it was there, but I swear it's still wet over here."
I rub the spot, it's dry of course...I look at him, roll my eyes and tell him that he is crazy and just looking for something to complain about.  He continues to flip around and grumble, so much that I (being the good wife I am) offer to swap sides of the bed as long as he quits whining and goes to sleep.  He agreed and we quietly settled into our new spots, within minutes he was snoring.  I looked at him sleeping and just shook my head and scowled.  Just as I started to drift asleep I felt my back getting cold...............shit.  I sat there very still, it was definitely still wet.  I knew that if I got up and slept on the couch he would know he was right and I was, bum bum buuuumm - wrong.  I laid there over an hour shivering in dampness hell bent on pretending nothing was wrong.  Needless to say I woke up this morning with a cold back, a sore neck, miserably tired and in a bad mood. The phrase "waking up on the wrong side of the bed" finally has meaning. 

When Tad asked me how I slept, I said "Great"......I guess I just can't think of a good way to tell him he was right.

           

Sleeping like a baby