So last Tuesday night, as I tool around inside the house, just hanging out with the babe & 9yo, the husband streaks in the house, rushes to the gun closet and snatches up his deer rifle. So of course I gotta see what's going on. I follow him out the door and down the ravine on the trail to the lake. He looks back at me, puts his finger to his lips in a shush motion, and starting to tippy toe in a very Elmer Fudd-like fashion. So we're sneaking down to the lake. I'm trying to only step when he steps to minimize noise but I needn't have bothered. About fifty yards away there's a beaver. He's so intent on chewing his tree that he doesn't even hear us coming. And this isn't just any tree. Let me make mention here that this beaver, or one very much like it, has already destroyed the majority of poplar trees on our property. Apparently he is tired of poplar because he is now chewing away on a maple. A beautiful mature maple. I read somewhere that a beaver can take down a tree with a six inch diameter in fifteen minutes. Well the maple was over twice as big as that but the beaver had obviously been at it more than fifteen minutes. The husband comes to halt and raises his rifle. He doesn't like his position so he relaxes and moves forward a little. He does this a few more times when suddenly the beaver stops. It rises up on it hind legs and looks directly at us. Of course the rifle is not in position right at that second so a stare down ensues. After an agnozing ten to twenty seconds, the beaver whips around to fly down his little beaver trail to the lake. But no, too late. The husband has the rifle up and in position and BAM!

There's no sign of the beaver. The entire woods are silent.

Suddenly we hear a splash in the middle of the lake and look out to see the beaver slap with water with anger at us. Husband raises his rifle one more time and BAM! again. Unsure if it's been hit, we head down to the Maple to survey the damage. Lo and Behold! Behind the Maple lies one very dead beaver. We look out to the lake. There's no sign of a beaver out there. But the obvious conclusion was that there had been two of them, tag teaming the poor Maple. Looking over the Maple, it's apparent that too much damage has been done and the tree will have to come down. It was a sad sad day.

One bright point is that we burn wood for heat.

Monday morning. I hate Mondays. And not because there's a whole 'nother week of stupidity before me, but because usually I get to start off such week with some sort of subtle backhanded insult from my husband. This week was the lint trap. He grabbed a shirt from the dryer and told me that there was a huge ball of lint in the dryer. I said that's odd, I've never had that happen to me before. Then he said that the lint trap had to be cleaned every time or it would start a fire. Well, let me tell you, I usually do clean the lint trap, but I have been known to go every other load. I have a good reason for this. Usually there's not enough lint in the trap in one load to make the trap easy to clean. After two loads, there's enough to be able to scrape up a ball of lint and use that to wipe out the rest.

But here's what really torques me: I get up at the first time the alarm goes off at 6 am. I pick up the fussy baby, and wake up the nine year old. I get her clothes ready and shake her out of bed. Then I cart the baby downstairs and plop him in his bouncy chair in the bathroom so that I can shower. I shower. I dry off and cover myself up with a robe & towel then go back upstairs, prod the nine year old to get moving. I dress and then head back downstairs to change the baby's diaper and start a bottle warming for his breakfast. While the bottle's warming I quick run a comb through my hair and clip it up (yes still wet-who has time to dry it?) Then as I leave the bathroom the nine year old moves in and I remind her to brush her hair both top & bottom and pay close attention to the underneath! Baby's ready for breakfast. I settle down to feed him. Then the husband comes downstairs, after forty five minutes of snooze time. He grabs his shirt out of the dryer (after I remind him that's where it is) and starts in on me about the lint trap. I ask him to please wait until this afternoon to pick on me and he just keeps on going, muttering something about a fire and how it has to be clean every single time.

I blew up. I admit it. I should have just let it go. Ignore him and his nonsense. But this isn't the first Monday he's done this. And he says I pick the fights. What? Should I have just said "Yes dear. You're right as always dear"?

Yes, I should have.

Because those are just words and words don't mean a damn thing to me. I would still continue to clean the lint trap my own way, and goddamn it, but who's doing the laundry here! He should just be happy he has a clean shirt to wear today. Where in all that lint trap crap was a "Thank you dear for washing my work shirt"?

So now he's mad at me. He tore off to work in the wrong car. I was supposed to take the Suburban today and he the Buick. I think he thought he was punishing me by taking the 'Burban. Ha! I'd rather drive the Buick! So there! The only person he's hurting there is himself. He's got a 55 mile one way commute and I a 17 mile one way. And the Buick gets better gas mileage.

I called him on the cell right after he left because I had put my office keys in the Suburban last night and for a panicky moment I thought he had drove off with them. He didn't answer the first time so I just called again thinking I would continue to call until he answered. He did answer the second time and I asked him for my keys. He had thought about them and put them in the Buick. *phew* He yelled at me some more and I yelled at him.

All he had to say was "Look, I'm sorry I've hurt your feelings, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I'm just worried about a fire. I understand that you live there too and don't want to burn the house down any more than I do and you do the laundry more that I do and I can trust that you won't do anything that would hurt us as a family. Let's just agree to disagree on this issue." Oh, and a thank you for doing everything with the kids to get them up and ready for the day while he snoozed his lazy ass away in the bed would be appreciated too. But no, all he could do was hang up on me.

He fights completely unfair. Some things are just not allowed when you fight.

These are the rules as I fight by:

You don't call each other names.

You don't drag out crap that has happened months ago that have already been resolved.

You don't walk away from a fight.

You stick to the issue and don't start nesting fights so that you don't even know what you're fighting about anymore.

And you always always resolve it, even if it only comes down to an agreement to disagree.

When he does things like leave without saying goodbye and hanging up on me, I don't know what to do. I need to finish the fight. Those are the rules. That's the way it works. I'm going to get home tonight before he does and I have no idea what's going to happen. Is the fight over? Did we agree to disagree and he signified that by leaving? And what's with the hanging up on me crap? Now that's just plain rude. He lectures me on respect, yet doesn't give me the respect I feel I deserve.

On the other hand, he's really not a bad guy. He does sometimes do things just for me because he knows that I feel better about the world if he does. Right at this moment I can't think of any specific thing, but I'll work on it and get back to you.

In the end I was late for work because I took an extra ten minutes to cuddle and play with the baby because he's the only one in the world that still loves me unconditionally and that's only because he doesn't know any better yet.

Five Hours Later:

So I've just been bummed out all day long. Course it's only been five or so hours but there's three hours yet to go. Will I make it? I don't know, I just don't know. I've laid the groundwork for an escape by telling my coworker that I may need to head out early today and she seemed ok with that. I'm being completely and totally unproductive today. I hate that. I've analyzed an 18 page telephone bill. Are we getting the best rate? I have no clue, but I can tell what the per minute rate for domestic & Canadian calls to our 800 # cost us as well as all domestic & Canadian calls that originate from our phone lines.

I'm feeling so drained from this morning's fight and I'm ready to say sorry and let it go, but I'm afraid that when he gets home he'll be cold and distant and mean to me. Cause that's how he can be when he's mad at me. And even if I do apologize he'll just rub it in my face for the next hour or so and it'll just piss me off again, because really, I'm not sorry that I don't clean the flippin' lint trap every single time, but I am sorry that he's an anal retentive jerk who has to control stupid little things like that.

No, that came out wrong. I'm sorry that my habits don't mesh with his expectations, but I refuse to keep tweaking and refining my personality for him. I'm me. I've been me for 28 years. I have my strengths and weaknesses and he has his. However I don't point his out and brood and nag at him like he does me.

I think maybe the real point is that he's mad at me because I blew it all up out of proportion this morning. I went right to "You've ruined the nice weekend that we've had and now I'll have a crappy week. Thank you very much." I should have just ignored him. I really should have. I could've even just thrown up my hand with a "Whatever!" and that would have been better.

What can I do to let him know that I'm sorry without rehashing the whole damn thing again? I could go home and clean the house and attempt to be the domestic drudge that he wants me to be. The thing is, he'll come home, be mean and not even notice. Besides, I do have my pride. Pride goeth before a fall, or some such nonsense like that.

What does that mean? Pride goeth before a fall? Does that mean as long as I have my pride, I can't fall? Or does it mean that as soon as I lose my pride that means Splat! I'm done? Or does it mean I have to sacrifice my pride in order to keep from falling?

You know, I think maybe I'm wrong in the assumption that since he married me and has a baby with me, he has to be nice to me. But then do I have to constantly be on my guard to keep him happy? If so, it's going to be long and arduous eternity.

On the flip side, am I nice to him because I'm married to him and have a baby with him? Hmmm, yes, yes I think I am. Or at least I do the best I can but one can only take so much picking on before you got to stand up for yourself.

Whatever. Yes, dear, you're right as always.

The Next Day:

Does anyone want closure regarding yesterday's drama? Yeah, me too. I left work early, picked up the baby from daycare, then cleaned the kitchen. The husband got home a little later than usual but no big deal. It was a little colder yesterday so he fiddled around with the furnace for a while, looked over his mail, and made no mention of the morning crisis. He looked at me oddly once, but nothing more. And taking my cue from him I said nothing about it. And that's it, that's all there was, and there was no more