Wait for it.

Last night I returned home from the last of three incredibly long days of an incredibly wonderful Pilates workshop.

CG had had a hard day and once Zoe was asleep, the venting began. I heard all about the diaper/potty battles, the picky and yet painstakingly slow lunch time, the inexplicably strange moods that morphed without warning and I truly felt for him. (I also got in touch with how hard it can be to come home to all THIS when I had had my own hard day, thankyouverymuch, NOW WHERE ARE MY SLIPPERS AND CIGAR?) All along, though, I was thinking "Now maybe he gets it".

His venting slowly gave way to other matters, the business of the week, the plans, the parties, the minutiae of household management. I found my mind wandering, waiting for him to say something heartfelt and appreciative about being on the other side of the childcare equation. Something about how he now truly appreciates the impressive work I do at home after three days of doing it all himself (*ahem* without doing the laundry or cleaning or food shopping). I even found myself formulating possible ways to ASK for the appreciation I wanted, from snarky asides to needy pressure-filled declarations.

The conversation came to a lull (perhaps because my mind was ELSEWHERE) and CG turned to me, his arm around my shoulder.

"You know, this weekend definitely made me appreciate all the things you do around here."

BINGO.