Do Men EVER stress?

I don’t need to get scientific about the Male-Female Brain; everyone knows they’re different.  Yet sometimes, in painstakingly simple terms, it needs to be explained.  To our husbands.

I got up early today (Saturday) to do MY frivolous things.  Blog.  Facebook.  Drink coffee that’s not in a to-go cup.  Check on my friend Perez Hilton.

Of course I’m keeping my eye on the clock because – hello – four kids will be rising soon with activities and sports and social obligations and I WANT THE HOTTEST SHOWER.  I believe that Moms – women in general – have their eyes on clocks at all times.

Still, by 8:30 in the quiet of the morning, while I was still halfway through an entirely different blog rant (I’ll post that soon) James wants to know if we can do a Happy Hour hot tub later. 

Now, to give you an idea of why I would pooh-pooh this (otherwise) delightful idea (of getting buzzed from late afternnoon, ignoring children, possibly having friends join us and thus ignoring THEIR kids as well, going straight through til bedtime and waking up tomorrow feeling like crap from getting drunk and dehydrated for eight hours...), let me just explain that our family will be heading off to our Vermont time share for skiing in a couple of days.  It always sounds great – and it has been great for many, many years.  But now with teenagers and mid-terms and work and LIFE, it’s extremely stressful to fit it in.  As it is, we’re not even going away for the entire week but anyone with teenagers KNOWS that even one day away from school is a nightmare.

So I’m already stressed about that.  And I know I’m working Monday (we’re leaving Tuesday), leaving no time at all to do anything the day before.  And I know we’re returning the day before Trevor’s birthday (so THAT had to be dealt with prior to departing).  And I still haven’t done the Mighty-Warehouse-Shopping-Spree to fill up the condo for the vacation. And I still don’t even know just how many (if any) of my teens can come at this point.

And lastly, I’m not even going to throw in the fact (okay I will) that I don’t LOVE skiing to begin with.  Taking one for the team here.

So sure, there’s been a slow simmer of stress in my aura this week, which might explain my snippiness (which, in turn, might explain my husband wanting to liquor me up in a hot tub this afternoon).

I know I don’t have an extra eight hours to spare this weekend and he doesn’t understand it.  “I’m talking about later, what’s the big deal?”

Thought process:

Woman (me):  cancels hair appointment this week because, why waste it – hair will be under woolen hats or hard helmets for five days.  She’ll deal with it after vacation.

Man (him):  this morning – “I’m running out to try to get a haircut in before basketball today.”

Seriously.

So while the ticker tape of my brain continues at breakneck speed --  even on this lazy Saturday morning --  it’s nice to know that there’s very little stress in the mind of my husband.

MUST be nice, no?