Steve hasn’t been able to sleep lately. He’s had this problem before, but I thought it was in the past. Unfortunately for him, it seems to have reared its ugly head with fervor. I actually miss those nights when I was up till 2 or 3 writing or thinking. My mind seemed to work better late at night when everyone was asleep but, lately, I’m out by 10 or 11 and struggle to wake up by 7. That disturbs me. But Steve needs sleep. He’s the textbook case of a human that has to have at least 8 hours, if not more, and being awake till 2 in the morning or waking up at 2 and staying awake till 6 just doesn’t cut it for him.
With the new ministry that he’s started, a new local shared office space that he and our neighbor have embarked on and a new leadership and emotional intelligence training business that he’s launched to help support his ministry, he has a lot on his mind. I’m sure that’s part of the problem. He’s a smart man and he has a million things running through his mind all the time. Lately, it’s probably closer to 2 million. I’ve wondered how to help. I’ve suggested “mind dumping” before bed but that’s so close to work that he’s probably hesitant. I’ve mentioned not watching TV or looking at the computer for an hour before bed but that’s his “disconnect” time. I’ve wondered if warm milk, avoiding wine, doing yoga or taking a hot bath would help but I walk a fine line of mothering him when I say too much. I’ve tried to leave him alone as not to add to his stress or the growing list of things he’s thinking about but tonight I wondered how I could covertly ask questions in order for him to dump all his thoughts on me so his mind might be able to slow down. But I suck at asking questions. I inevitably ask the ones that stress people out instead of distressing them. Probably because I naturally play devils advocate in the hopes of heading off negative experiences. I’m that “glass is half empty” kind of girl even though I REALLY want to be the “glass is half full” person. Maybe I never notice because the glass is always full of Pinot Noir so I’m happy either way, but other people don’t see things through the same rose colored wine glasses that I do.
Anyway, just when I was feeling like a horrible wife and having no idea how to help my man, I had to potty.
Yes, you heard me right. Those glasses of wine led me to my aha moment, thank you very much.
Because I suddenly realized the secret to loving my man. Hear me ladies. The simple answer to all your marital needs is in this simple act of servant-hood.
Lift the seat after you pee.
Yes, you heard me right.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard (or read) something about a woman complaining that a man doesn’t put the seat down on the toilet. In fact, I recently saw a YouTube video with a little girl berating her father over the topic and I remember wondering what woman taught her to be so self-centered. With all that men are expected to figure out, understand and handle in our families, we add lowering the toilet seat? And there are women that don’t just mention it. They get downright angry about it. Really?
In this day of strong, independent feminists are we so weak that we can’t stretch out our hand and gently lower a toilet seat for ourselves? Are we so self absorbed that we can’t stretch out a hand to lift that same seat in the service of another?
It’s 4 to 1 in our house and I naturally lift the seat every time I flush the toilet. Honestly, it’s the least I can do for this wonderful man that has put up with hormones, shouting matches, silent treatments, shopping trips, emotional tantrums, and more. Why women assume it’s the man’s job to lower the toilet seat is beyond me. Aren’t we just as capable of serving men as they are of serving us? If we aren’t, we have a long way to go. Yes, I love when he opens the door for me. I love feeling protected. I love his patience, kindness, flowers, having someone clean the kitchen, planned date nights, a hand written card, his wisdom and prayers for me, how he looks at me when I feel less than beautiful and having him hold my hand…I love being treated like a lady and I love that he is strong yet gentle. But, I also love discovering something that I can do to repay him for all the things he’s done for me. It doesn’t happen often because he’s much better at this stuff than I am, but tonight, as I happily see him finally sleeping…I am grateful that I can lower the toilet seat.
It’s a start.