A Manhood Intervention

When I was first laid off over a year ago, a flood of concerns swept over me, the first of which was of course, how were we going to pay bills?  Though my wife has a very good job, and has a nice income, no doubt two salaries are better than one.  Not long after that I was concerned with finding a new job.  Where would I find work?  Who would hire me?  What kind of a new transition would I have to go through once I did find a new job?  Months later, as I settled into my stay-at-home status, I worried about what I would do to stay busy?  How would I spend my time?  What would I accomplish?  How would the boys and I get along after spending so much time together?  What contributions to society would I make?  Alright. . . . you got me. . . . so I wasn’t exactly worried about my “contributions towards society.”  Whatever.  I could have been worried about that.  Some people are.  I’m sure of it. 

And though all of my concerns have not gone away, it is safe to say that I have comfortably shifted into my new role as a stay-at-home parent.  Sure, I joked awhile back in one of my blogs about losing a bit of my manliness, but for the most part I have simply accepted, and maybe even embraced this new chapter in my life.  I’m running the house like a well-oiled machine.  The boys are on schedule and making all their baseball commitments and camp dates.  We’re never out of food.  Laundry is done.  Dog is walked.  Cars are gassed.  Beds are made.  And so on.  Is it what I always dreamed of doing as a young kid growing up. . . no.  Far from it.  But again I’ve made the most of a tough situation, and I’m kicking ass in my new role.  All is good.  No worries or concerns.

That is until the other day.  Both the boys were out at a friend’s house, and my wife and I were sitting around watching TV.  My wife looked at me and said, “Do you want to go upstairs and have sex?” 

Now I could have dedicated this entire blog to “dumb” questions my wife has asked me over the years.  Things like “Do you want to order pizza tonight?”  Or “Do my boobs look good in this shirt?”  Or “Would you like me to be on top?”  Or “Do you want to stay home alone while I take the kids to a movie?”  Or “Can I get you another Zebra Cake?” 

But instead this blog is going in another direction altogether because, without hesitation, and without regret, I answered her question with a quick, “No thanks.”

There it was.  I turned down sex for the first time ever.  Well actually that’s not true.  I had turned it down one other time about a year ago when I was convinced that turning the tables on my wife, and giving her a “taste of her own medicine” was exactly what was needed in order for me to get MORE sex.  Of course it didn’t work out quite the way I planned, and I went a good three weeks without sex before I finally had to APOLOGIZE for being a putz. 

But this time . . . no ulterior motive.  No attempt to teach her a lesson.  Just not in the mood for sex.

And I think that’s when I realized that I was dealing with a whole new concern here.  Forget the finances and the future search for a new job, and the long hours with the boys, etc.  There was something new here that probably had been brewing for some time, but had finally come out.

I have become a woman. 

I wasn’t checking to see if I still had a set of balls, I was checking to see if I had a vagina. 

I wasn’t getting comfortable with my stay-at-home status, and I wasn’t kicking ass with my new role in life . . . I had become a house wife. 

And the signs were all there. . . . I just didn’t pick up on them.

A few weeks ago I was picking up my wife’s dry cleaning at the cleaners and I noticed the hem on one of her dresses was torn.  I immediately notified them of the problem, and they offered to fix it.  Fine, right?  NO!!!  The fact that I know what a hem is, let alone when it needs to be fixed is ridiculous.  Six weeks ago I would have told you that a “hem” was short for a V8 Hemi engine.  Now it’s the lining on my wife’s dress. 

Not  too long ago I was at the grocery store buying fish for dinner, and I wound up having a five minute conversation with the guy behind the counter about the different types of salmon AND how to best prepare it on the grill (and by the way there are Norwegian, Copper River, Farm-raised,  and Atlantic, among others, and the best way to prepare it on the grill is to lightly season it, then place a small pat of butter under the fish, and grill them up in an aluminum foil tray . . . . and I am NOT kidding, I didn’t have to Google that, I just flat-out remember that . . . . OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!) .  At the time I didn’t think twice about any of this.  Hell, I honestly remember walking away thinking “What a nice, friendly guy that butcher was.”  COME ON!!!!!  First of all, I don’t buy fish.  I MIGHT buy fish STICKS, but not a piece of fish.  I buy burgers or steaks or maybe chops.  And I have ONE heat setting on my grill, and it’s HOT!!!  And seasoning is either barbeque sauce or ketchup. 

I’ve also started worrying about my weight.  I’ve always eaten whatever I wanted, except for an extreme diet I did to win a contest once.   And I noticed right after getting married 15 years ago, that it was easier to put on pounds, but I never really cared.  Now, I’m getting self-conscious that my belly is sticking out a little farther than I’d like – and wondering if it’s making me appear less attractive.

That confirms it.  I am a woman.  There are interventions for all kinds of situations, but I’m not sure this is one of them.  Can you have a “How To Get Your Manhood Back” Intervention?  I don’t drink much at all, so that’s probably not a good way to start.  I’ve always been a neat freak, so I can’t let the laundry and the house get messy.   I know football season is coming up.  Maybe Football Sundays (and Saturdays, Mondays, and Thursdays) will do the trick.  Or I could just start having sex.  But I’m not really in the mood. 

Oh my God.