General or Soldier?

As I said in an earlier blog, Earl and I can be soldiers but, truth be told, we prefer to be generals—not very compatible with a smooth transition to retirement*.  Leaving the hospital means that he's going from an environment where he was used to being in charge (operating room), to home where I'm used to being in charge.  Fortunately, he's accustomed to a nurse managing his schedule, but in a hospital setting, a surgeon is at the top of the food chain.  Earl and I are anticipating changes in our routine come April, but there's more to it than that.  No location or function needs two CEOs, so we found ourselves in search of a less redundant, non–violent solution.  We also needed to own up to our inherent 'do it my way' natures. 

Earl and I are happy the house is mostly shared space–we prefer it that way. A home is a joint responsibility, and ours always has been.  One of the more distressing aspects of being disabled, is how traditional our household has become.  The tasks that don't depend on balance, mobility and timeliness tend to be more 'housekeeping' and usually are my responsibility.  Although I can do things given enough time, most often jobs are done by Sandie or the housekeeper.  Those tasks that do require balance and strength or are related to financial management, etc., become Earl's 'Honey–dos'.

A pre–emptive strike seemed in order.  We've decided to claim the territory where each of us wants to be the general (strategic planner) and where the soldier (tactical implementer).  It sounds like "Pick your battlefield", but it's not (I don't think).  We're a fairly good–natured, loving couple, not overtly combative and rarely argue.   We provide input to each other (sometimes solicited, sometimes not) and usually arrive at joint decisions. That doesn't mean we don't have or express discord.**   Earl and I both have our unique, annoying non–verbal forms of communication.  That's unlikely to change.  The question is not whose needs are in consideration or who takes on a job, but whose view prevails.

We've also agreed not to say, "Whatever you think is best, dear..."  The phrase can be decoded as 'I don't know', 'I don't care' or '@#%$ you'.  Earl hates it, I hate it—even our contractors hate it.  It isn't general–like and has been relegated to the joke status or just used to piss off the recipient.

Since Earl does most of the cooking and shopping, his domain should be the kitchen and pantry.  At least, that would be the logical order of things were it not for Heidi, the third general***.  Most of her leadership is directed at her family, but that requires some re-organization around the house to maximize her efficiency.  However, about the time Earl retires, their house will be finished, she'll have her own kitchen and he'll only have to deal with me.

The offices

We call the big office at the garage entry 'Earl's office', but since it's closer to the wi-fi hub, his computer is faster.  It also serves a backup guestroom function.  Although I love my little office corner back in our bedroom****, Earl often finds me in the office taking advantage of the superior bandwidth.  I try to keep my compulsive tidiness in check.  "It's not your office, Tam", I remind myself.  Sometimes, it works–for awhile. 

The garage–h-h-his

There are multiple reasons that I need to retire as 'garage general' when Heidi and Michael move out—cleaning up, rethinking placement, (blah, blah, blah).  Letting go of that is likely to be difficult, as I'm a bit more of a garage dictator.  I've always considered the garage to be my domain.  I do park my car, Skeeter, Winnie, and the trike there.  Fact is, I'm at my OCD best in the garage*****.  It's Earl's turn to be the general, although I do have some ideas and my label maker. 

The closet–mine

Earl and I share a spacious, gorgeous master closet.  The sharing has gone fairly well because we have a very fundamental understanding–it's my domain.  He doesn't care about matching hangers–I do!  He doesn't care about hanging like things together according to color–I do!  He likes organization, but it's not a priority—it is for me!

Recognizing territoriality, its potential for derailing marital harmony, and accommodating the 'mine' behavior will be an ongoing process.

The Lesson:  Share, be nice, communicate, and don't screw with the general.

*Previous post: Honey, I'm home
**Previous post: Intent...Not Content
***Previous post: The Boys
****Previous post: Bringing Down the House, paragraph 13
*****Previous post: Hi, I'm ... and I have OCD