Balancing the Warrior 4

The evolution for which I am most grateful in this body of weirds is the dialog between Hubs and I. Is this the same office worker who championed the cause of every constructo who made my work day miserable during the Bitch of No Return breakdown? You've come a long way, Baby. This particular evolution has been happening throughout this entire pilgramage. It is bigger than this particular project.

During last night's ramble, we decided to test the possibility that it really is a gender issue behind the contractor's stonewall. We have no way of knowing what lives behind a stonewall, but if it is a gender issue, testosterone has a far better chance of discernment than estrogen. Hubs is going to give him a call and see if he can get further than I have in the same spirit in which I used to send the cutest boy on my crew to deal with the flaming woman haters on the job sites. A honey-doer will fess up to another man far quicker than he will fess up to the honey he is doing.

"Ball-hogging" is an Alanon cliche to speak of control issues. Ball-hogging speaks of the control issues which cause us to never let anybody else have a chance to work through their own problems and/or let their own light shine. For most of our 37 years together, Hubs has triggered like a former HS basketball star when I let the phrase slip during our conversations. Sports fan I ain't, so it took me a goodly while to discover that ball-hogging means something entrely different in a locker room than it does in an Alanon room. The discovery was a during random moment when I happened to overhear a sports announcer as I passed a barely noticed TV broadcast. For most of our years together, I have simply accepted Hubs's extreme dislike of the term and tried to avoid using it during our conversations. Another toughie since it is used so casually in my peer support network. I amnae sure I did any better with that one than I did in changing gears from the Bitch of No Return to Mommy at the end of every work day. Hubs offered dramatic reminders every time I slipped.

Was it Hubs who introduced the term into last night's conversation about whether or not he should take a shot at talking to the conractor? I honestly do not know, but the analogy evolved to a discussion of the difference between him accepting a pass and his elbowing me out of the way to take the shot his way.

Sorting. . . Small steps, big faith and lots of prayer.