Practically Perfect in Every Way

The week was crazy.  Standing in the spare bedroom-turned-office the muscles in my neck began to twist as I gazed over the disorder.  Our normal routine was disturbed by the close of the preschool year.  My daughters, under tow every day--all day, pulled for my attention.  The business phone rang excessively.  The office had turned into the hub for activity -- coloring books, puzzles, and paints were strewn across the floor as evidence of the attempt to keep my 5 and 3-year old occupied while the day's work schedule demanded focus and precision.  Calls to return, a driver's schedule to organize, landscape products to order, pictures of a job prospect to sort and submit with an estimate, and then of course, my favorite--making time to prepare for an unemployment claim fraudulently filed against our struggling to stay alive part-time, gee-isn't-this-fun-business!  My throat began to close off necessary oxygen and the walls began to close in around me as I looked about the room. 

I must confess: I'm a Type A.  It all seemed so innocent, Your Honor.  A clean closet, homework turned in on time, and a high school part time job -- I was even awarded graduation with Honors to continue this behavior into my college days!  And, now look!  Who'd a-thought it could shred my innards and give me hives?  Type A personalities relate to Mary Poppins...."a place for everything and everything in its place"! -- "Spit-spot!" -- and the mantra that rolls through my overly crowded head -- "Practically perfect in every way"!  The truth is, Mary Poppins might have been smokin' something!

If I were to write a Type A marriage manual, my number one caution would be:  Beware!  Do not marry another Type A (don't worry, I didn't).  If you do, make certain his first name is preceded with "Prince" and his address is somewhere on Castle Drive. And because I know the heart always wins, make certain before you commit to have one phrase on the tip of your lips at all times--"NO, DEAR" and then practice using it with various combinations, always with a smile:  "No, dear, I can't work a full time job with two preschool children and manage your business".   "No, dear, I am sorry, dinner will not be ready at 6 tonight".  "No, dear, driving the hauling truck for the week is not okay...it stinks." Lastly, stick to your guns--this "A" world is cruel to those who have fluffed the nest of their homes with too many "Yes, dears...." 

As I write, the children remind me of promised watermelon slices in the back yard, my phone has alerted me that the driver is ready to pick up his schedule, the doorbell is dinging (we don't have Westminster chimes!) announcing the arrival of a package or a Craig's List buyer and my Boss (aka hubby) is calling to be assured that the day went "as planned"...."No, dear, it did not."  The words come out as lightly as I can say them and he, understanding, says in his most princely fashion, "Don't worry, I'm on my way home.  Tell the driver I'll get the schedule to him in an hour, ask the buyer at the door to wait two minutes--I'm coming up the street...And babe, don't worry - I've got dinner with me, so why don't you turn on the hot tub.  I'll help with baths tonight and we can relax after they are in bed."  Music to my ears...."practically perfect in every way."