April 20, 2015 ~ My Faith in Humanity, Restored

And when I say humanity, what I really mean is huMANity. My brothers and step Dad have restored my faith in men.

(First, let me mention that my Dad has always been my rock. The only reason that he's not in this post is because I didn't ask him to come early to my daughter's party to help me out. And even though she's not a man, I feel like I need to mention that my Mom isn't a part of this story because she was really sick.)

Yesterday was my daughter's second birthday party. My brothers both came over early to help me with the prep work. When my younger brother arrived, I asked him to hang some flower balloons that I made. I was reminded that it is possible to ask for help, give minimal direction, and trust that the job will be done well. I didn't have to explain in detail what I meant when I said that I wanted them hung "alternating colors." He said what he thought that I meant, he was right, and he hung the balloons. He hung them so that they were all similar heights and he adjusted the plan that I mentioned according to the number of balloons that I had made. I asked him to take care of filling the cooler with ice and beer and a bucket with ice and kids' drinks. He decided that filling the cooler at the time was a good idea but that he should wait to fill the bucket since it didn't have a lid and the ice would melt before people arrived. And, crazy as it sounds, the first time that there was a lull in preparation when it was closer to the start of the party, he went outside and filled the bucket without me having to ask. 

I'm seriously getting tears in my eyes as I type this. You probably think I'm crazy, but I'll explain.

In addition, both of my brothers helped me make tea sandwiches, again with very minimal instructions, and my younger brother helped me make butterflies with pretzels and dip (good 'ole Pinterest has made my parties so much more festive). When I gave him minimal instructions, he asked me to show him what it is that I wanted them to look like so that he didn't mess up the prep work that I had already done with them. I showed him one and he completed the rest.

Not only were all of the tasks done well, but they were done with love. Care went into them.

After everyone had left and I got the kids to bed, I laid down to relax for a little while before I went downstairs to do a crap ton of dishes and finish putting things away. I fell asleep. For an hour. When I went downstairs, my step Dad had emptied the clean dishes out of the dishwasher and put them away, loaded the dirty dishes that could go into the dishwasher, folded up the tables and brought them inside, and had started hand washing the dishes that couldn't go in the dishwasher. He actually knew which dishes were too delicate for the dishwasher! And he took the initiative to help me out!

You're probably thinking that I'm talking down to men; that I'm an angry divorced women who thinks that all men are awful and can't believe it when she's presented with men who are competent. Let me be clear: when I say these things, I don't mean them to sound degrading to men. The real deal is that it's as if I've been in some kind of one-man cult for the past nine years. I've been brainwashed. I've been conditioned to have to give detailed instructions without sounding too demanding, without emasculating, without controlling. I've had to figure out if it was worth asking for help when I knew that the help that I was going to get would be half assed, by someone who really didn't care if he did a good job. Was the frustration of a product that was the result of no heart worth the time saved or would it be easier just to do it all myself?

So let me explain. The tears that are welling up in my eyes are because I've been reminded by three men who have always been and always will be competent, helpful, loving, and caring that there are men out there who like to do a good job. They have helped me realize that I am not a person who is impossible to deal with and too demanding, that I am not too controlling and that my expectations are not too high. It may sound so simple to you, brothers and step Dad helping out for their niece/granddaughter's birthday, but it wasn't simple to me. It was a reminder of who I am. It helped me realize that some of the traits that I had labeled myself with while being in this one-man cult just aren't true characterizations. And I'm relieved.

And just for fun, here's a picture of my daughter, because it's her party and she'll cry (and tantrum) if she wants to.