Did He Follow Through with the Chore?

In my most recent blog, I referred to an interview I did with Brett and Sierra on the Brett and Sierra Show. We talked about certain problems men with ADHD often face: completing tasks and meeting deadlines.

Our next interview two weeks later continued the discussion and how lack of follow-through becomes a topic of conversation and a problem for men with ADHD and their partners.

 

 

McNay & Voth - ADHD and Men

The question: “Did you complete the chore I asked you to do?”

The possible response: A deer-in-the-headlights expression followed with a “Uh, uh.”

Or at our house, the response is immediate defense and even a smoke screen of angry words. I no longer allow that strategy to speak to me, but for partners tired of that line of defense, I encouraged those partners to consider that ADHD is a disorder that calls for clear communication and a focus on the individual’s strengths.

It is not a disease or a disability, although we often treat ADHD in terms of disability.

Possibly it is fear that the final project will not be perfect, or possibly it is truly forgetfulness. Whatever, the man with ADHD does not enjoy facing undone chores or projects.

At times it can be a form of miscommunication such as one Christmas in our household.

One of our stairwell walls, Quince Yellow in color, had a repair that needed painted. 

I had talked about it for weeks, but it had not been done. In my stubbornness, I had determined that my Husband would be the one to fix it.

It finally got down to just a few hours before we hosted HIS family Christmas party. The spot seemed to speak my name each time I saw it.

It said nothing to Hubby.

In desperation I let it be known that I expected him to paint the spot.

He did. Using the grayish-blue color we painted the basement, he slapped a few brush strokes across it.

It was now a focal point that cried out of slovenliness and opposition.

When I later confronted Hubby about my hurt and disappointment, he honestly responded: “But I thought that was good enough for them.”

“It wasn’t for them; it was for me. It reflected on my ability to keep a tidy and lovely home.”

It had not occurred to him that I wanted it for me. I should have said it differently: “Please paint that spot for me. I fear others will think I am a low-class slob.”  The motivation might have been different.

Of course, I probably should have painted it myself.

Tax Day

April 15^th. The dreaded Tax Day. Possibly you’re among many tax-paying Americans who don’t dread the deadline to file your Income Tax forms. You’re done, and your tax return is in the mail.  If so, then congratulations.

However, for many adults with ADHD, filing tax forms often brings a sense of guilt or gnaw of defense and plethora of excuses as to why the forms are not ready to mail by midnight. On the other hand, the same adult can take heart.  You can easily overcome tax quandaries this year and can be ready for next year’s tax season.

If you’re not ready to file you tax forms this year, quickly expend the time and effort to consult a tax preparation specialist, and learn how you can file for an extension. If you have the forms, but not the money you need to pay, talk to the tax specialist on how you can file now and pay later.

Keep the promise to yourself that you will be ready earlier next year to get your tax forms done on time. Orderly record keeping may not be the most interesting project for you to carry out, but it can be done. When tax time rolls over us, it's important to have a head start on the process of filing.

Whatever it might be, your personal system for organization can serve you well in your record keeping. Possibly for you, it is a simple matter of a large paper grocery bag. I’m not kidding; I saw it work well for a late friend. She was a professional, and she made a super income. She just did not like to take on the challenge of sorting papers related to income tax. The current year’s brown sack sat on the corner of her desk.

Any paper, bill, receipt she thought might be related to taxes went into the sack. “I take it to my tax lady and let her sort out the important ones,” she told me when I laughed at her system. “That’s what I pay her to do.”  It worked. No guess work as to what the tax preparation specialist might need.

Other persons find that they do well with color-coded files, and they make them simple in case another member of the family may need to get to the information. Pick a color that matches your concept of what goes in the file. For example, red is often associated with medical expenses. Yellow is matched with contributions and charity donations. Whichever color you use, it must remind you of the content. Keep these files in a crate or desk drawer that you will see each month. Whenever a tax record comes across your desk that month, file it immediately in the correct file folder. Other persons use open small baskets or containers of different colors. Open baskets allow for a quick toss when sorting important pieces of information.

Of course, you need an incentive for filing those papers each month, so think how you might reward yourself when you do. Undeniably, you are bribing yourself to do something that needs to be done anyway, but persons with ADHD often focus better on any task when there is have a reward or reason for doing so. I expect you will know exactly what works well as an incentive for you.

 

 

 

Only One Martha Stewart

Thanks to ADDitude Magazine, I think of Martha Stewart who has made a fantastic name for herself as an American icon of business. In fact, as early as her teen years, she began showing her hand at being a business woman when she worked as a fashion model and in advertising.

Today she is the guru of homemaking and home décor. I don’t know of many women who dislike her style and elegance. Possibly a few resent her perfection, but it seems likely a majority of American woman drool each time they read her magazine or watch her on TV.

She is one of the richest women in America, and when I see her displays, I wonder how many employees worked ridiculously long hours creating and artistically styling holiday decorations both indoors and out-of-doors for the amazement of the audience. Obviously she can afford to hire it done.

For that reason, I resent the turmoil that takes place deep inside me whenever I read her magazine. In fact, the turmoil is so deep, I’ve stopped watching her on TV. I don’t even know if she still airs shows on TV.

I do know that a Martha presentation in my house would take extra hands to help me, and those hands are not available. Money isn’t always available, either.

Yes, Husband is multi-talented and has an eye for artistic arrangements. No, he is not willing to help when I come up with a project that requires his help.

After all, it is not his idea.

Is it ADD or personality, I always ask you and me? I give much of the credit to his oppositional defiance that is part of his ADD. If asked to do something that takes extra energy and effort, and if it is not his idea, he won’t take part.

He shows his stubbornness or purposely does a faulty job, both of which have hurt my feelings countless times.

In the days when I hosted every Christmas get-together for his family, I asked him to paint a small spot on the wall leading upstairs. It was an obvious patch job that had not been finished, and I had been asking him for weeks to get it done. OK, you are not surprised that my Husband with ADHD had not completed a task. When he finally did (about an hour before they arrived), he applied blue paint to a yellow wall. Even a person who is as color-blind as he is could see the startling contrast.

“You used BLUE paint?” I asked incredulously.

“Why not. It’s painted now, isn’t it? After all, it’s just my family.”

“It isn’t for your family, it’s for me,” I nearly screeched. “You were to complete that job because it means something to me.”

I think he walked away mumbling that had I wanted it yellow, I should have painted it myself. Good point.

Martha would have hung the perfect wreath on that same wall. I left the blue patch in hopes someone would comment on it.

Another Christmas, I purchased the materials for Husband to help me build a Barbie house for Oldest Daughter. We couldn’t afford one that was commercially made, and I wasn’t certain how to construct it.

“Why do you want to do something as silly as that? She doesn’t need a doll house.”

“Yes, she does. She plays with her Barbie dolls all the time. It merely needs to be opened on one side with two floors and a pitched roof. I have furniture for it.”

It ended up being hastily thrown together and not at all what I had designed. He painted it in the same blue.

So why I am writing about this? Along with resolving to avoid being Martha, I made another resolve: stop asking him to help with my projects. Of course, that is exactly what he wanted me to do, and it certainly makes for a less-frustrating marriage arrangement.

With the holidays upon us, I offer this advice to the spouse, and I point this mainly at wives, of a person with ADHD. You might need to lower your expectations this year. Stop drooling. Relax. If your spouse will not help with your holiday ideas, let them go, or modify them to your own time and skills. If your ADHD spouse likes projects, begin now for next year. Don’t wait until the last few days before the holidays for putting your ideas in motion.

I doubt even Martha Stewart does last-minute projects.

 

 

 

Did I Love Him?

Did I Love Him?

A Facebook friend posted a blog that has appealed to people all over the world. The writer, Pop Chassid, claims he only thought he loved his wife when they met, dated, and married. No so, he now claims, because at those times he was merely filled with emotion and inward fire. Since then, he has learned that he loves his wife through his actions. Throughout all major religions he has received a hearty endorsement for his words.

OK. Here’s mine.

I mean the man said it so well. Love is action.

When I met a handsome blonde boy/man in World Literature, I was immediately attracted to his humble ways and intelligence. Actually, I was drawn to his crude sense of humor.

I didn’t know it was more than a sense of humor; it was how he went through life gaining acceptance.

“Make ‘em laugh,” he thought, “They won’t make fun of me as quickly. People will like me for it and accept me. ”

“ Oh my gosh!” I heard myself respond to many of his remarks and stories. Other times I blushed scarlet.

He thought it meant I liked him, which really I did. But I didn’t love him

A few years later I sat across the table eating a meal with him as we hinted about the type of life we would form together and the marriage we would have. He liked the starry gaze in my eyes, and we both thought that we were in love.

Passion. Attraction. Strong positive feelings. We had those, but not real love.

It wasn’t until after we married that I truly began to really love him through my actions.

I told him about the love of God who accepts him at all times and in spite of  mistakes.

I praised him in front of people even though at home I observed weaknesses he hid from me during the courting years.

I helped to pay bills when he forgot to do so, or deliberately refused to pay them. I encouraged him through the moments of misery when financial decisions overwhelmed him.

I cleaned and tidied where he made numerous messes and continued to encourage him to learn better skills in that area.

I continually studied and learned about ADHD in order to understand his life past, present, and even plan for life future.

When he got sick, I made certain we sought the best and most appropriate doctor we could find in our community, and I attended his appointments to lend support.

But lest you think I was the only one doing the loving, he also loved through his own actions. He modeled it in front of our kids.

He encouraged me to pursue every dream I’ve had, especially my career and academic dreams.

Most importantly, he was there when I delivered each of our children and took them in his arms and helped to nurture them.

He went to work for us each day and sacrificed with me, so I could be a stay-home mom. Like me, he did not want our children to make that sacrifice.

He supports me in my business which he truly wants to succeed, and has helped me explore facets of ADHD exemplified through his personal experiences.

After 39 plus years, we have really loved each other time and again, and I am proud of us.

We are now in our Sexy Sixties as he likes to describe us, and I pray we have many more years to express our love actions.

Like today, he is coming to my office to take me to lunch because I have to work until 10 p.m.  I will be that late because I teach evening classes at a local university.  I love him by making certain I take on this extra work whenever it is offered.

Did I love when I married Husband? Compared to now, I didn’t know what love was all about. But I know now.

 

 

Apple Pie and Family Connections

When we first married, I told Husband many stories about my precious and wonderful extended family. I am related to some really neat and admirable people on both sides of my family lines.

Usually though, I talked more about my Mother’s people because they lived nearby as I grew up.

“You should meet my Aunt Margret,” I would often tell him.

“I hope to do that one day. From everything you say about her, she modeled neatness and orderliness for you more than your Mom did.”

“Oh, yes. Aunt Margret was the utmost in being an aunt, even though she was Mother’s sister-in-law. She loved me. I learned much from watching her.”

“And you said she was a great cook. That’s the most interesting part about her.”

“Yes, and I should tell you about her apple pie. She made homemade applesauce for her pies then filled pie shells with it. By fill, I mean over the top which she crowned with lattice crust.”

“Really ? It sounds good.”

“Oh, it was better than good, and Mother told me Margret learned how to bake and cook from my Grandmother Dutton.”

She made pies and fried chicken from the recipes taught her by her Mother-in-law, my grandmother that I never knew.

It was a connection. Do you know what I mean?

My Grandmother died four years before I was born. I only knew her through Mother’s stories and memories.

It was not the same.

But hardcore connections like apple pie constructed with pristine detail built a bridge. So did the stories of how Grandmother would attempt to redirect the temper and stubbornness she often saw in my Mother.

Grandmother was neat, tidy, and wise in many ways.

“This family-connection thing is really important,” I told Husband. “It gives me a sense of my own identity. It gives me a sense of heredity for me and my children. I know this is not a new concept, but it is poignant to me.”

Now comes the part where I relate this ADHD.

Family ties and structure help persons with ADHD perform more effectively toward their individual potential.

ADHD may be said to be a family-based or genetic disorder, which means many persons within the same unit struggle with similar life issues and challenges. In that case, family life may seem a bit more chaotic.

But that does not negate the fact that family structure is the most foundational social unit. Family structure and strictness provides a strut for the child or teen with ADHD, and that strut provides a guide for living up to potential.

Last night I talked with my cousin, Aunt Margret’s daughter who lives in Georgia. “I would give anything to be across a table from you now, eating bologna sandwiches and chips, and drinking Pepsi.” I told her. “And don’t forget the Hydrox Cookies.”

We both cried real tears at the memory.

That’s what I call a family connection.

We invite persons with ADHD or their family members to contact us at www.coachadhd.com , or phone 316-655-9807. We want to be encouragers.

 

 

 

Let’s Get Serious About Skunk Control and Other Chores

One of my thoughtful adult children talked to me about the blogs I share with you.

“Mom, who writes your blogs? At times I don’t believe they are totally accurate.”

“I write my blogs, and they ARE based on real conversations and events.”

I paraphrase the intent of the next response, “I think you should make them more real.”

Real? How real do you readers want me to be? Just the other day, I told my college-days friend that I would never write certain things about how ADHD affects my marriage or my husband’s life, and I meant it. For one reason, people choose to gossip. Yes, I realize that may surprise my readers, but it is true. For another, family should always honor confidential information.

But back to my offspring’s recommendation, I gave it serious consideration, and in speaking with another of my adult children, came to a conclusion.

From now on, I WILL sporadically share some of the harsher realities of my life as the spouse of a person with ADHD, and I am going to begin with depression.

Persons with ADHD often deal with various degrees of depression, if that is the correct way to express it. It affects emotions and physical actions, and I think it is one of the cruelest of illnesses.  I habitually read and study about depression. I think of it as intelligence gathering just as if I were engaged in a war.

Depression is an enemy in our household. Husband has lived with depression since I’ve known him.

His psychiatrist once asked him how long he had been depressed. “Since about age five,” he answered without really having to stop and think.

Depression hurts, hinders, and interferes with quality of life. It gets in the way of the details of life. For example, take the skunks that have been quite prolific in our backyard this year. Husband looked at me with a flat affect when I asked him to help rid the yard of these uninvited nocturnal pests.

“You expect ME to know what to do?” he asked.

“I hope you will take the advice to simply soak rags in ammonia and then place them all around the yard’s perimeters.”  I said as I placed the rages and ammonia within easy reach.

The materials sat on the table for more than one week before I spoke with him again.  He eventually and reluctantly took action.

Even though I realize it overwhelms him to complete a simple chore, do I get frustrated? You bet. Do I become irritated?  Affirmative.  Not only does his depression bog him down, it sets heavily on my own mind and shoulders.

I will write about depression again soon, but if you want to talk with me about it before then, contact me at McNay &Voth ADHD Services, www.coachADHD.com or 316-771-7557. We’ll talk.

Time Command Center McNay

I expect it seemed a strange place to think about this, but last week as we used the bank drive-though, I philosophically mentioned, “Do you realize that 1963 was 50 years ago?”

Husband didn’t even look up from his paper work. But I saw the shadow of misery pass across his face.

“Why do you look so sad?” I asked.

“Why did you ask such an asinine question?” At that point he turned his body toward me as with a most puzzled expression all across his face.

“I saw you write 2013, and thought that I never dreamed I would really live to see this year. I did the math, and fifty years ago was 1963. I was just entering my teens, and now I plan ways to detain retirement.”

“Where did the time go?” I continued.

“It went too quickly,” he agreed, “and most of the time I wasn’t even aware of it being present in the first place.”

“Fifty years ago, we thought time would stand still, which we now know it does not. We thought time was a thing we could control or hang onto.”

“You tell me that we cannot control time; we only control ourselves. So much for self-control.”

His musing reminded me of how time-control methods evolved in our household.

“I think we learned to do it best when we learned to make it a group effort.”

“Meaning?”

“We kept a family calendar, or at least the kids and I did, and reminded you frequently of your part on it. And, I think it is a system that works best in many households of persons with ADHD. We try to hold those with ADHD responsible for time management, but it seems most successful when there is a command center, so to speak. Ours was in our kitchen. Remember?”

“ Hardly. Well, maybe, barely. I recall I wrote on it a few times myself.”

“The successful part of it for us was that you were not responsible for maintaining it. Of course, I mostly used calendars designed for mothers, but in doing so, I learned to write down deadlines and important dates. The kids learned to use it, too.”

“Where is our command center these days?” he asked.

“You’re kidding, right? It’s my day planner. As a result of the family calendar, I began carrying a day planner and keeping it where I always know where to find it.”

“Oh, yes. The red book. At least it was red last year.”

“I record all your appointments and mine, my daily work goals, and ideas or other thoughts that come to me. My use of it came to me over time, but I now read that experts recommend similar uses for a day planner.”

“I doubt I will ever really use one,” Husband declared. “I know I won’t. I would forget what I want to write in it.”

“You’re highly resistive to changes and effort like this. The thing you could learn is to immediately give me your appointment cards. Or. now that you have a Smartphone, you can also learn to use your reminders application.”

Many adults with ADHD fail to use a day planner or even calendar as a way to record deadlines or dump their spontaneous ideas. However, we reassure you the day planner is one of the most effective ways the adult can learn to control his or her time.

If you are a person with ADHD and find that you cannot successfully use a day planner, don't give up. You may need to have the learning process broken down into even smaller steps. You may need assistance from a strong support system and the guidance of an ADHD coach.

Contact us at McNay &Voth ADHD Coaching at www.coachADHD.com or phone 316-771-7557, and let us help you learn skills for time management.

 

Messy Desk Boys

I once heard a lady with ADHD describe her messy purse, and it reminded me of the term “a messy-purse girl.” I don’t think it requires description. Likely you already have a mental picture.

 “Hump,”  I say. “It isn’t just females who live within the walls of clutter and messiness. I remember the boys in school with perpetually messy desks.”

Do you remember the ones who had to clean out their desks once per month? Remember how they would find all sorts of treasures from missing homework and pencils to baseball cards and of course, the latest missing library book?

“Be careful,” Husband says as we both turn toward his desk in our home office. “I resemble that remark.”

Yep, he’s right about that. Even these days, piles of papers and envelopes lay scattered in some form of organization across the top of his rather large desk.

They’re not totally unorganized, but they are not orderly or laid out in an easy-to-find arrangement.

“Don’t touch the things on my desk. I won’t be able to find what I need if you do,” he tells me.

“Find?” I ask incredulously as I look at the collection of hodge-podge items such as address labels from magazines and other items waiting for the shredder, marketing and sales materials, brochures, bills and the envelopes they came in, a candy wrapper, and this year’s Christmas photo from his nephew.

He just does not keep items in a certain order. Why doesn’t he try standard organization tactics such as color-coded files or three-ring binder?

“Athalene,” he has said to me in his firm and authoritative voice. “I don’t know why I organize like this. If I knew how to keep it neat and tidy, I would do so.”

So am I to assume his clutter is due to a lack of knowing? Does he fail to keep it tidy because it is beyond his skill set?

I think not. In fact, I imagine his desk and his way of organizing represent the way things are arranged in his mind with non-sequential groupings and order that is reasonably logical to him.

Professional organizers say that individuals should organize their space in a way that correlates with how they live in that space. Not all people organize in the same way, and for it to be more practical, each person should use his or her space in a unique way and how he or she wants it to function.

“They” don’t have to walk past Husband’s desk several times a day, or wish for less clutter in their homes.

I am not as dull-witted as I may look. As a matter of fact, I am wise enough not to wade into his messiness and begin throwing out his effects. One day, I even helped him purge. He decided what to keep and throw, and I did the actual work.

I once shared with Husband, “Organization Guru, Julie Morgenstern, recommends what she calls the “Kindergarten Classroom” method for organizing. Divide the space or room into activity zones. Focus on one activity at a time.  Store items at their point of use.  Put things away in the new homes you have created for them. Use colors or other visuals to help you remember the different zones. Do you think you might like to use that idea?”

He stared me squarely in the eye. With one hand on his head, and the other resting on the opposite hip, he sang, “I’m a little teapot.”   I got his message.

 

 

 

Mindful Frustration

Just now I completed writing about why the child with ADHD has problems making friends. Given that they are often impulsive, fail to follow through, and miss social cues, their peers get frustrated and irritated trying to interact with them.

At times, so do spouses of adults with ADHD get perturbed or exasperated. As my mother-in-law warned me many years ago, innuendos are not forms of communication with the person with ADHD.

My writing led me to think of Mindfulness. Many topics tend to lead me in that direction these days.

For instance, Saturday was to be a day in my resting regime; I had scheduled it as a sabbath time for renewal and refreshment. It didn’t begin that way, and it continued not to be that way for the greater part of the day. I started it by running a promised errand for another family member. Then, in order for my daughter to wash her clothes, I tidied the laundry area.

Husband stayed in bed until 10 A.M., and he only got up then because I finally announced the time.

He watched TV most of the day while I watched the floor that needed vacuumed and the other floors that needed steam mopped.

I made comments about these chores, but he did not respond.

Finally I was more direct. “Will you clean the cat box?”  I did ask politely. Even though it is his regular responsibility, he didn’t answer, but eventually the offensive elements in the box disappeared.

However, a mound of litter laid on the bathroom floor next the box and spilled onto the carpet in the adjoining room.

“He always ignores this,” I mumbled under my breath along with several other criticisms of how he does not complete chores. Sacrificially I cleaned the floor and carpet as I muttered about filthiness and learned laziness.

Accept my word for it, there was much more that he could have been doing around the house. It isn’t necessary for you to hear about the long list of ignored chores and incomplete tasks that assailed my senses.

What good would it do? I have lived within this scenario for nearly 40 years. Besides, I am really practiced at feeling sorry for myself.  The resentment continued to build. Sure, I made a few comments to him, but he literally didn’t get it. This was stress that did not affect me in a good way.

Finally I exploded in frustration. That got his attention. He thought I was threatening to commit suicide. Suicide?  Assault and battery, maybe. Physical attack, possibly. But it wasn’t me I wanted to hurt.

It was at that moment I thought of Mindfulness. I became aware of the moment and the thoughts and feelings flooding my reasoning. Mindfulness allowed me to notice them as they were, without judging the experience. I was simply aware I should get away from the situation and leave the house for a while.

I grabbed my tanning supplies and headed for the salon. I was mindful I should do something good for myself that allowed peace and quiet away from the sights of endless tasks and chores.

As I lay quietly alone on the tanning bed, I focused my thoughts on meditation, or as we say in Christian vocabulary, on prayer. I was aware of God’s Presence in and with me, of my need to accept responsibility for my own thoughts and reactions, and aware that Husband is not the only person who contributed to my frustration. I meditated on God’s ability and willingness to help me overcome my selfishness and to name it as such, and I meditated on my responsibility to apologize and ask forgiveness.

I know this sound countercultural, but it is my mindful meditation, and it works for me.

When I got home, chores and tasks remained undone. I could still see them, but I came back with a different perspective. Prayer and meditation cleared the chalkboard of my mind and changed the dynamics of my reactions.

Labor Day

This day is set aside to celebrate the working class of our nation, as well as a day to cease our labors for rest and relaxation.

I don’t understand the concept rest and take it easy. It has never happened that way for me the first Monday in September. At least, it has not happened very much since I began raising children.

It certainly hasn’t happened often since I began shoring up a spouse with ADHD.

Not that I am complaining - much. I love Husband. I love memories from previous Labor Days when the children were small.

I remember the year I hanged freshly-washed laundry on the clothes line. Husband called to me from the backyard, “I am going to smoke this steak for dinner today.”  It was one activity he enjoyed, so it was the one activity on his list for the day.

“Hey, wait. I just put those clothes on the line. The smoker stands next to it. Wait until they are dried before you light the wood.

“Too late,” he called again.

I made the mad scramble to bring the clothes indoors.

Other Labor Days we mostly puttered around in the yard or prepared food for visits from extended family.

We didn’t do much in the way of neglected chores, even though our house was that one house on the block. You know the one where the trim needed repair or paint. Other minor, copulatory chores reproduced during the darkest hours of night, and neighbors talked about us behind our backs.

One was brave enough to say it to my face, ”Rather than helping others through your church, you should stay home and take care of the repairs on your own place.”

I merely groaned inward. She had no idea. In addition to caring for my children, keeping house, mowing the lawn, and working part time as a freelance writer, I had not the time or skill to get the other things done; neither did I have the money.

Doing all I was capable of accomplishing, I certainly did not have the emotional strength to push Husband into action or force him to spend his money.

“If they had only known, or even if I had known what I do now,” I sigh.

My husband was not going to be the one who cared what others thought nor was he sensitive to my need for tidiness. He was oblivious to it all, and he didn’t intend to change.

This particular neighbor’s husband mowed the grass, repaired fences, took care of the car, and took out the trash without needing to be prompted, coerced, or reminded. She had no clue.

Families without ADHD do not understand. The spouse of the person with ADHD is often in turmoil because things do not get done. Whether it is a wife or husband with ADHD, the spouse agonizes over the incompletes.

It is a constant nag at the back of the mind. It is far from rest or ceasing to strife.

Of course none of the neighbors had the courage to speak to Husband directly. They came to me with the mistaken notion that I could make him get things done.

“Ha! If I knew how to do that, I could patent the notion and make a million,”   I often thought.

Being ever-optimistic, I hoped the Labor Day cooler temperatures and the prospect of a new school year would motivate Husband into action.

Every year I dreamed for that.

Now that we have grown older, I hope for Husband to get out of bed before 10 a.m. on Labor Day and to do something other than sit in front of the TV when he does.

I continue to hope for that.

He has the retirement concept down to an art. He has no problem with the concept of rest and cease from labor, and on this Labor Day, one of us continues to labor and the other continues to rest and relax.