the man

I feel as though I should clarify the term 'the man'. When I reference the man in my blog I am referring to Darcy, my husband. I know you know that. I don't say it like "Yo! You the MAAAAN!" You know.... like that. I say it like "the man" - like half of the chaotic universe we have created together over here.



I am the woman, he is the man. King and Queen..... like that.



Sometimes he IS 'the maaaan'. Like when he does stuff like this:


(he built this house ALL. BY. HIMSELF. Which is nuts)


Last week the man became a murderer. He killed chivalry. The week before he seriously wounded it and then last week he stomped it to death. The stress of the reno has turned my sweet husband into this preoccupied, overworked, cold-blooded killer. Let me tell the story.

A couple of weeks ago, while he was at work and I was running errands strictly reno related he texted me and invited me for lunch. I was close so naturally I said yes. Who wouldn't want to go out with a man dressed like this?



Anyway, after we ate, he paid the bill while I used the washroom. When I came out he was nowhere to be found. I figured he was also in the washroom so I waited. After a different man came out of the one-man washroom I knew my man wasn't in there. I went outside, he wasn't there either. So I walked all the way to the car, which was a jaunt. There he was sitting on the curb in front of our car. I explained that leaving me in a restaurant without any explanation isn't conducive to the woo. And just because we have been married for forever doesn't mean the woo shouldn't happen. He said he was sorry. Mmm hmm.

So last week, while he was at work and I was out running errands strictly reno related, I texted him to see if he wanted lunch. He told me to meet him at the same restaurant. When I got there he was there with our realtor, our finisher and two of our finisher's guys. Me and five men for lunch.... when was the last time that happened? The man had ordered for me and mixed my soup just how I like it. Nice woo, I thought. When lunch was done the man, myself, our realtor and our finisher were all walking towards our vehicles. The man wanted to borrow a tool from the finisher so they were going towards his vehicle as I turned to go towards mine. I looked back to say bye to the man and he had his head down, hands in pocket, completely oblivious to my very existence. The finisher and our realtor both said bye to me and waved. The man? Nothing.

Dead. Chivalry is dead. The man killed it. My poor husband has no multitasking abilities. When he is just plain working he can manage his job and his life splendidly. When he is stressed out? He has blinders on which soul purpose is to get him through the task and nothing else. I know he is stressed when he begins to act a little selfish and grumpy. He is stressed.

It's okay..... I'll wait for him.


(maybe while I'm waiting I'll take some updated pictures of our family..... good grief!)