Before Ronan was born, I was home working on various projects, which are earning me barely enough money to pay my own way when I hang out at the movies. My wife pays for my rent and food.
I had a routine. I’m not someone who likes silence. (Or light, for that matter. Yes, I’m a vampire.) I also tend to sleep in if I don’t have to get up. Which is every day when you’re your own boss. (I can’t dock myself for being late!) I would rise around 10 AM, watch the private eye marathon (Magnum Mondays, Rockford Tuesdays, and the Simon brothers Wednesdays) on Sleuth, then the Star Trek Marathon on SpikeTV! (Exclamation point is part of their logo.) If nothing trek-y or sleuth-y was on, there are always World War II documentaries on somewhere 24 hours a day.
While the TV was on the background, I would work on my projects. I have one website, which I originally budgeted two months’ time to finish, that will be ready after about 14-18 months of work. I’ve made 2000 products for it and now I’m figuring out how to sell things online. It’s really boring work, actually. Really. I’ve also researched some 1,000 photos for my World War II site with minute detail. I just started posting the updates online. I worked so hard, often staying up late, my eyes are now somewhat permanently crossed.
Of course, I expected the whole routine to be upset when Ronan was born. I was sidetracked by some required updates to every website I own (Google had some ideas about how I could make more money) but I was still able to get a big project done from the ground up after Ronan was born. So far, so good. Work is progressing, even with Terry back to work part-time.
The big adjustment was the total change in my TV schedule. I had not clearly thought out the twelve weeks of Terry, Ronan, and grandparents and how my television schedule would be completely altered. Terry is the master of the remote in our house. It’s not really a bone of contention. She has excellent taste. I mean, her TV watching schedule consists of Gilmore Girls (cancelled) Veronica Mars (cancelled) and Friday Night Lights (near cancelled) and PBS shows like Bill Moyers, Independent Lens and POV. She puts up with Battlestar Galactica and a few other shows from me. It’s ridiculously good television, the kind that you can’t just have on in the background while you focus on the coastline of the Philippines or whatever. I’m a “whatever’s on that moment” TV watcher, rather than a planner. So, as a planner, it makes more sense for her to have the remote. It’s the kind of television that you have to watch with your full attention, like a foreign film, and especially if it’s Bill Moyers, you’re so pissed off at our world at the end of it, but you’re glad you watched it.
I didn’t realize how much I liked having control over the remote during the day. This careful détente went all to hell during the convalescence. Suddenly, slowly, I began to miss the macho lineup. Terry watched a lot of old tapes with "chick flicks." She was cleaning out her old VHS library to make room for more baby stuff, which is just enough for a three-bedroom apartment. (We have a two-bedroom.)
At first I tried to watch along. Then I tried to ignore it. Then I was a little bit grumpy, not really sure why. It all culminated in a terrible, terrible E-mail to my Dad and a few friends about how silly I thought some of the movies were. It was funny and sarcastic. It was more of a cry for help. Except macho men don’t cry and they don’t ask for help, so it was just wimpy and terrible. And rude.
That would have been bad enough, but one friend wrote back with more comments about a certain show (I won’t mention it so that I don’t get killed by its twelve fans) that I thought was funny, so I forwarded it to Terry.
I forwarded it to Terry.
Which was a mistake, because my original E-mail was at the bottom of the funny E-mail, and I didn’t realize it, plus I’m the worst husband in the world. Plus, probably, I felt guilty about the first negative E-mail, so subconsciously I wanted her to know; I have trouble with secrets.
Needless to say, she was not happy, and she’ll probably be less happy about this blog. She wrote a very funny repartee to my E-mail, and we talked about it. Eventually she forgave me. I violated the trust of the marriage, and she may not fully trust me for some time.
She’s gone back to work part time. I am very happy about getting control of the television remote back during the day. I missed Jimbo and Rocky most of all.