We Love Them But...

There are some things men JUST don't get!
Whether they be our husbands, significant others, brothers, fathers, sons, or buddies, sometimes we just want to smack them upside the head.
Am I right, ladies?
Or, even better, let them live our lives for a week.
If they last that long.
I'd LOVE for the men in my life to live as me for a month. To REALLY live as me, with my body, my thoughts and feelings, my memories, my menstrual cycle, work schedule, the whole 9 yards. Doing the grocery shopping, laundry, dishes, the bulk of the child care (including meetings with teachers and therapists, doctors' appointments, baths, staying awake with them at night, etc), doing my job, paying the utility bills...ALL of it!
Because they think we nag them. But when someone is coming to the house and we ask them to PLEASE pick their crap up off the floor and they don't do it, YES, it makes us crazy! You know why? Because if the house is a mess, guess who gets the blame! NOT the guys! US!!!! Even in our more enlightened times, it is the women who are seen as the caretakers, the keepers of home and hearth, and the ones who are expected to be on our knees scrubbing the toilet. Guys are SUPPOSED to be messy, right? If we know a guy who keeps his home clean, there's something *different* about him, right? (And let me just say, I know PLENTY of gay men [and women] who make me look like Martha Freakin' Stewart, so lets cut the stereotypical crap, shall we?!?!?!)
I think that if men experienced the kind of pressure we are under, from outside sources and from ourselves, they might just self-destruct. Or, if they care about us, they might step up and help out more.
I try to remember that. When I am at the end of my rope with one or another of the men in my life, I try, I really do, to remember that they don't understand. That I cannot expect them to understand unless I explain it to them. Calmly and rationally. In a way that a young child would comprehend.
But sometimes I'm only human, and I get upset. I don't yell and scream anymore, but I cannot be calm and in control all the time, especially when others around me are losing their sh*t. Or simply being rude. (Like when I'm driving, either alone or with my kids. I guess some guys see me in my red minivan and assume they can either tailgate and/or yell at me and I'll be intimidated. I soon prove them wrong. In fact, they usually drive away wondering if and when that psycho minivan lady is coming to hunt them down. Heh heh heh!!!!)
Don't get me wrong; for the most part, I love men. I'm a long way from my days in college in New York, when I was convinced that males were inherently evil, incapable of love, and rapists waiting to happen. (Yeah, New York'll do that to ya, especially if you're young.) I try not to buy into group-think: the whole Mars/Venus thing. I try to see people as individuals. But when people live up to their stereotypes, it can be hard ("Real Housewives," anyone?).
But all that doesn't stop me from complaining! Or shouting out the occasional "Men SUCK!", usually while I'm driving. (I try not to do this when the kids are in the car. One of this is, after all, a boy.) Then I come home to find that Hubby has vacuumed the house, washed the dishes, and walked the dog, and all is well again.
At least until next time.