Why My Husband Gets Away with Everything Now? by Lily Shia

Lily Shia
babyfarouj@yahoo.com

When Baby was under 6 months old, she used to coo and laugh every morning.  She was her own alarm clock and we woke to the heartwarming sounds of her babble and giggles.   My mornings were so pleasant and my parent friends lauded her good behavior, so I decided to make her a baby model to earn her own diapers.  She was a natural, booking gigs monthly, but after a while she was booking on her ability to follow directions, no longer on her inner glow and carefree nature.  She started to look…wiser and worried.

My sister warned me repeatedly that babies hear everything and that her own child recited a lullaby a year later without being prompted.  Everyone knows that children are sponges and we should be wary of our vernacular around the tiny tykes, but what about the tinier tots?  They do not echo our nasty comments immediately, so that we guiltily change our tone.  Instead, they blissfully gaze into our angry faces as they lie or flop around like little blobs.  We know better and we know they can interpret our intentions, perhaps not every word, but we continue the tirade.

My husband and I noticed the change around 8 months and attributed it to poor eating and sleeping patterns.   Then as the months dragged along, we found many new excuses: the old daycare was toxic, she needs more park time, buy more engaging toys, teach her more, find her better friends, and so forth.  Some were temporarily successful and we saw much success with our other friends’ babies, so we assumed that we just had to try harder.  The harder we tried, the more frustrated we became.  The heightened frustration made us curt with each other.  The disrespectful quibbles wore at our esteem and we began to slowly resent each other.  Perhaps one resented the other more quickly, but in the end the result was clear.  The baby was frustrated and saddened.

Baby still laughed during playtime, but not with the same ardor.  She was peckish, so she grew according to the growth chart, but never more than the 10%ile.  She performed at work, but no one chased us down the street to comment on her cuteness and her smile anymore.  We thought she had grown into a toddler and this was normal.  Our lives seemed to plateau and we accepted her new less vibrant personality.  Then, one day, my sister-in-law arrived from overseas and it was brilliant!

My sister-in-law is the Mary Poppins of Australia and her heart belongs to my baby.   Although she has two grown boys of her own, she always yearned for a little girl.  For two weeks, the baby awoke with a smile and squealed at the thought that auntie was coming to rescue her from the crib.  She ate voraciously throughout the day.  She sang and pranced about like a baby fairy, waiving her bottlebrush wand in the air and belting out “Let It Gooooooo!!!!!”  We were taken aback by the deja vu of seeing our sweet, giddy infant reincarnated into this rapidly plumping toddler.  Then as quickly as the gaiety began, it ended; the sister-in-law returned overseas and the child reverted into her emotionless state.  The evidence was clear: we were the problem.

Shortly after his sister left, my husband took an overseas trip for three weeks.  In his absence, the baby grew lovesick and vomited nightly.  She withered away in his absence and my anger towards him leaving us behind and all the other generalities that moms hold against a hands-off husband surfaced.  I smiled in her presence, but she knew, because all babies know, my intentions toward her hero father were ill.  It made her ill.  Upon his return, her state did not immediately improved as she had developed separation anxiety and could not bear to sleep for fear he would be gone when she woke.  She had nightmares and I had to wake every 2-3 hours to calm her, while she called out his name.   The poor husband had returned to chaos.  The wife was continuing her chaos and was vainly seeking appreciation for her efforts as most wives do.  Obviously, the child suffered and it affected her wholly. 

Neither of us made the connection.  It was so simple that it was overseen.  We wanted medicines or behavioral treatment plans, but in the end, after the money and time we spent with the many doctors and specialists she saw, all we really needed was consideration.  That’s different from love.  I love my husband and cannot imagine being with anyone but my husband for the rest of my life.  He loves me and acknowledges that I try my best to be a good wife daily.  We were too relaxed with how we had come to address each other.  Whatever irked him, he snapped at me.  When he was cold and I wanted attention, I told him how hard my day was hoping for sympathy, but I was only compiling negative words atop of negative feelings.

Then one day I asked.  I simply asked the new daycare how they are able to deal with her tantrums.  What tantrums?  Your baby runs around at full speed and is the belle of the ball here.  Everyone loves her and treats her kindly because they know she is the smallest one.  They call her the baby.  The evidence was clear: we were the principle contributing factor to her tantrums and loss of luster.  That day, my child and I changed with a snap of a finger.  She resisted dinnertime at home and I lowered myself to her level.  (I had tried this in the past but this time was different.  My heart was not ill or frustrated.  I found peace.)  I told her how sad it made me that she had changed and I told her I would like her to eat her food tonight.  My baby still does not talk in full sentences aside from “Let It Go!”  However, she heard me, she understood and she ate.  I videotaped the meal on my cell phone in disbelief.  Since that talk, she has had two meltdowns that lasted less than five minutes because my husband was having dinner elsewhere.  I used the same tone and the same reasoning.   When my husband witnessed it, he was also shocked.  It did not change our bad attitude towards each other immediately. 

With time, seeing her happiness return made us happy.  I replaced my stories fishing for pity with joyful stories of how she behaved and reacted during the day.  My husband’s curiosity was peaked and he walked into my room one day, somber.  Nervous, I took a deep breath and was afraid of another talk that last left me in tears.  He asked to pick up Baby from daycare that day.  My arteries were replete with oxygen and I felt an instant elevation in my spirit.  Yes, I replied calmly.  Then my excitement overtook me and we laughed about all the cute things he was to see that afternoon.  We guessed what she might say or do and it tickled us into a coughing fit.  The two of them came home late as he tarried to enjoy watching her play at school.  We sat for dinner, the first since his return from overseas.  We put her to bed without a fuss, as had been the new trend for her since our heart-to-heart.  The husband left precipitously to join his friend with whom he traveled abroad and had been visiting nightly.  He paused along the stairwell as we passed each other and he leaned forward and planted a little peck on the side of my lips.  I floated to my bedroom and decided that from now on my family will only get happy me, even when things are wrong.  I will recount my day’s mishappenings without an ulterior motive.  I will speak respectfully to my baby.  These formative months are mercurial and I am grateful my husband and I learned our lesson within the elastic stages of her character development.  The cliché is that parenting is challenging.  The reality is parenting is every minute of the day now, whether I think she is listening or whether I care how I react to the adult in front of me.  When I chose to be a parent and a part of her life, I signed a contract to be a good, considerate person 24/7.  Anything less is just not good parenting.  To be kindhearted 24/7 is quite a challenge that is why every parent who runs the race is a SUPERHUMAN.