When Tyler and I were first married, I discovered that he and I had different concepts of the passage of time. It became a problem mostly after I had Lillian. For example, if I knew that Tyler got out of class at 3, we lived 10 minutes away, I would expect him at about 3:20 or 3:30. Early in the morning, I programmed my patience to last until 3:30. Then, he would often call at 3:45 to tell me he would be 15 more minutes and I would freak out at him. I'm fairly sure he thought I was crazy, and I was, because I had used up all my sanity. I explained to him several times before it stuck that if he would have called me at 2 and told me he was going to be late, I could have reallocated my resources, and then I wouldn't be crazy when he came home.
Now we have the reverse problem: Two Fridays ago, I ended up having to stay a little late because I messed up something right at the end of the day. I called when I finally left, around 9:00, to tell Tyler I was on my way. Oh ho ho, I got a talking to. I'm supposed to be HOME by 9, blah blah blah. The kids go to bed at 7 or 7:30, so I'm not sure why he was so upset, but I felt really bad about it the whole ride home. As I pulled up, I was marshaling my arguments/apologies. I knew that our friend Elizabeth was driving down from Flagstaff and was possibly there already, which would have called for a change in strategy, so I was mentally preparing for that as well.
I walked in the front door, and there were like 10 bags there. "How long are you staying, Liz?" I asked as I walked around the corner, my eyes still on the bags. As I turned my head forward, I saw not Liz, but Myriah, who lives in Chicago. I was so surprised, I dropped everything I was holding and screamed quietly, because the kids were sleeping.
Elizabeth set it all up and was so sneaky. We had a great weekend which involved me breaking into the dog park (seen above) and other adventures.
Maybe I'll post more pictures if I have time, which seems unlikely. Sorry.
