tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477267729206587768.post1398822498946293661..comments2023-03-27T04:47:37.280-04:00Comments on Ms. Adventures: Help!Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10911836222035780777noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477267729206587768.post-16559197992195316322008-06-26T23:25:00.000-04:002008-06-26T23:25:00.000-04:00Ok... well my first impulse was to laugh. I mean, ...Ok... well my first impulse was to laugh. I mean, how typical was this situation? :) And the grunting... Somehow it reminded me of Raymond and Debra. Love that show. <BR/><BR/>But as for advice... The best I can say is to laugh over it together. Today someone tried to tow a car we were responsible for, we came home to find out we had to wash sticky stickers off the side and pay a fee, we had to drive for 1.5 hours to return the car, and we had to do it before dinner. I could have cried. My husband could have blamed. But the best thing for me was when I burst into laughter. It was a ridiculous situation and better handled with laughter. So, I would just make a joke. Something about a hot dog. Then later, the next time you eat hot dogs you can laugh about it again.Sarahhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01641681857491842399noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477267729206587768.post-34500516031148308172008-06-26T22:51:00.000-04:002008-06-26T22:51:00.000-04:00Let me start by saying, "I'm a man." [waiting for ...Let me start by saying, "I'm a man." <BR/><BR/>[waiting for the shots to ring out....]<BR/><BR/>No shots. Great. I always like to deal with situations like this with humor.<BR/><BR/>For example, the other day my wife packed a thermos-like container in my lunch. This was odd because one, I didn't know we had a thermos, and two, she didn't say anything about it.<BR/><BR/>Well, I was in a rush, so I didn't question--I figured she had packed, as a treat, my favorite drink in the world: milk.<BR/><BR/>Come to find out, however, that it wasn't milk at all. At lunch time, as I was unscrewing the lid, I was surprised to find [dramatic pause] NAPALM!<BR/><BR/>In terror I flung it from me, realizing too late that this was kind of (just kind of) a stupid thing to do. The thermos bounced off the padded cubicle wall, whipping itself back in my direction, now with it's contents flinging in every direction.<BR/><BR/>I'm actually writing this from my hospital bed where I am being treated for third degree burns on over 90% of my body.<BR/><BR/>And do you want to know the sickest thing of all?<BR/><BR/>It all started with a styrofoam box I had left on the table the day before, with hot dogs in it that my wife was supposed to put in the refrigerator. When I got home, I exploded because she hadn't, and as some sort of sick revenge, she decided to mix the styrofoam box with gasoline and stick it in a thermos for my lunch.<BR/><BR/>Napalm, people!<BR/><BR/>So, next time something like this happens, let me suggest this: treat it with humor; tell a little anecdote of sorts. Smile.<BR/><BR/>Do like me, and make something up. You just might laugh :)Ryanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17293724902008904729noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477267729206587768.post-7575346381405557802008-06-26T21:05:00.000-04:002008-06-26T21:05:00.000-04:00I'm with Stella. Sometimes it borders on . . . mi...I'm with Stella. Sometimes it borders on . . . micromanaging. I'm CONSTANTLY (as in at least daily) reference checking with M. "What are your plans?" "Tonight we're gonna do X, Y, then Z, right?" "OK, I'm gonna do this, you're gonna do that, and then we'll tackle this together". <BR/><BR/>I WISH I were kidding. Sometimes it feels like running a business and being business partners (my worst fear). But, that's the nitty and the gritty. <BR/><BR/>If you can get to the point where you OVER communicate, it gets easier.Nicholehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10911836222035780777noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477267729206587768.post-66962334377718324672008-06-26T16:48:00.000-04:002008-06-26T16:48:00.000-04:00Sometimes talking to my husband is like talking to...Sometimes talking to my husband is like talking to a styrofoam packing box!!!<BR/><BR/>I probably would have asked him what the box was at some point during the day. BUT I would have expected him to let me know that it was something that needed to be put away or put it away himself!<BR/><BR/>I think it's a matter of constantly talking. Constantly sharing, even the stuff that doesn't matter. And it's constantly listening, too! It's a lot of work and it's all baby steps but well worth it!Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07859054715459355896noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477267729206587768.post-46807990809930991262008-06-26T15:39:00.000-04:002008-06-26T15:39:00.000-04:00oh bother... THIS happens to R and I quite frequen...oh bother... <BR/>THIS happens to R and I quite frequently (okay nearly daily). But I only let him sulk and grouch for about five seconds and then I BARK... anyway, I too think it's an unfortunately inescapable thing in certain seasons of life. Both of our heads are so FULL, we have no room for storing...boxes and the like. I cannot give advice since I'm still in the throws of the stomping my feet phase. <BR/>So I guess the only point of this comment is to let you know you're normal. :)Heather of the EOhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14607422301391841377noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477267729206587768.post-46269205005760162662008-06-26T14:33:00.000-04:002008-06-26T14:33:00.000-04:00yup. I vote for "completely insane"! As for comm...yup. I vote for "completely insane"! <BR/><BR/>As for communication skills. . . all I can say is sometimes that's just the way it is. It's that whole Venus/Mars thing. I'm sorry. I know that doesn't help. <BR/><BR/>If it were me and my hub here's what I'd do (I'm famous for this, btw): I'd badger through the stonewalling and sulking and talk it through to make him see reason and make him admit I'm right, particularly in a case so cut and dry as this one. It might take a few days. . . <BR/><BR/>And I'd make him promise that next time, he'll do the really simple thing needed to avoid a similar mess and Communicate (with a capital C). Notes are fine, text messages or e-mails work, phone calls are better.Nicholehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10911836222035780777noreply@blogger.com