Trying to Remember

The last time my husband comforted one of our children.....it's hard.  When was it?  When they were toddlers.  With boo boos.  But since then, I really can't think of any ways.  Or played just to play, not to win.  You know, messing around with no "winner".  Somewhere he lost how to do that with people older than three.  Being grown up and responsible is very important to him.  I remember telling him a decade ago..."but he's only 8, it took you until your thirties to figure these things out."  But he just can't celebrate the steps.  The results matter.
That's why I'm such a disappointment.  And I'm tired, so very tired, of being the disappointment.  He didn't bother to come to the vet over the weekend until someone advised that I should call and talk to him about the cost.  I did so and when he heard 3500-4000, he came.  He never thanked our son for being there.  Never hugged or consoled our distraught daughter.  Never comforted our sons....only tried to get commitments from them to stay up all night to take care of the kittens if they didn't euthanize them too...never consoled me or said any words of comfort.  Oh, wait, when I thought there was a moment of hope, he said, "I'll stay with her and pet her while they put her down."  Wow.  I'm still reeling.  I can't get my balance.
It's because when I picture him comforting, the only picture that comes to my mind is of him comforting his wallet.  Ludicrous, I know, but that's exactly how our lives have been.  All in all, over the years, including this latest fiasco, we have been under 2500 for 20 years of vet care.  That's what 120 a year average?  I mean, seriously.  What joy and learning they have brought to our lives.
But every single thing is like that.  He extracts every peny he can out of something.  He gives as little as he can.  I am sick to death of it.  Wounded.  Damaged.  He chooses money over his family on a daily basis.  He thinks about it more.  Plans for it more.  wants to know more about it.  Cares where it goes.
And as far as being the one to be ashamed of?  I am.  Because I simply can't keep up.  I am pretty thrifty.  I am good at finding deals.  I also like to treat myself or the kids.  I used to treat him, but it got old since his getting things is the only one that is alright.  He keeps his underwear until the band pulls off and they are see through.  Even when he gets new ones.  His t-shirts have crusty stuff under the arm pits from his deodorant.  But, if there is something good in the house, he feels like it should be for him.  Snacks.  Drinks.  Whatever.  He is allowed to buy good honey and chocolate sauce because he uses them every night.  He complains if he's meals don't have meat.  He pretends to be frugal while wanting the good stuff for himself.  He used to hide the honey from the kids....until they got wise and hid it from him. 
And I've pleaded.  I've begged.  I've tried to please.  I can not.  I weep.  Even now.  How can I be such a failure?  How can I want out so badly?  I don't want ANYTHING from him.  Nada.  Ok, a couple...but they aren't biggies. I want to take over the loan on our rental house to be mine alone.  And I want him to send the kids personal checks each month.  Just so they know that he is taking care of them.  I would throw up if I had to take his money.  I have lived being told how hard it is to work for us, having to beg for money for TOO long.  Never again will I put myself in that position.  I was a fool.