The Karate Wife Whose Husband Is Unhappy

I just don’t know what’s happened to my wife.

Personally, I blame that kung-fu-thing that she does. Up until then, we’d been rubbing along together quite happily for twenty years but everything seemed to go tits up after she got involved in that.

Suddenly, three nights a week, she was out and I had to nuke my dinner in the microwave and deal with the kids. That was when she started to get cross over suitable bedtimes if she found them both up when she got home and me in bed asleep.

Mind you, I have no idea why she wants to take up such an unladylike hobby. It’s most unsuitable. Of course, I haven’t actually told her that but I think I’ve made my feelings clear. It’s the first time she’s stuck to her guns about something and continued with it, which is a bit irritating.

She also started to going out to parties regularly at weekends and, on Saturday night, I had to babysit again until she came home at all hours, drunk as a skunk. I can’t think why she wants to hang around with those people.

I think it was around about that time that she really started complaining about everything I did… or didn’t do. She blames me for all the problems with the kids when they don’t behave. She’s so hard on them. Always shouting at them. I wish she could see that it’s far better to be calm and just go with their flow rather than insisting it be done her way and shrieking like a fishwife, before getting angry with me for not backing her up.

I mean, you can’t force a child to eat their vegetables or do something they don’t want to do. But she just looked at me as if I was mad when I laughed and told her that, as they ignored her strident demands that they at least finish one portion and took their plates into the kitchen. I can remember her getting the hump when I used to feed them too. I mean, I know they were 11 then but at least the veg got eaten. She can’t have it both ways.

And then there’s the homework issue. Far better for me to sit down with my lad when I get home from work and keep him company whilst he does his homework than her have a huge row with him about it earlier on when he’d rather be out playing with his mates.

I thought we’d sorted things out the night of the office Xmas party when we had our most recent heated discussion over our relationship and family matters. I came home late to find her in tears and she’d obviously been drinking again. I listened as she told me that she wasn’t sure she loved me. Charming!

So I told her I wasn’t sure I loved her either. It’s hard to love someone who’s never there and who is shouting all the time when she is around. But I stressed that we had to stay together for the sake of the children. She’d waffled on about not wanting to become her mother and I can’t have her deserting them.

She seemed to be saying that she required more affection from me so I hugged her and we went to bed. Crisis averted! She has one of these every couple of years. Just spontaneously combusts. But I deal with her arguments calmly and analytically so it seems to sort itself out and we carry on as normal.

I took the next day off work. We did some Xmas shopping and, later, I made her lunch. As usual, it took her ages to eat it. She’s so slow. I was onto my second piece of cake before she said she was full and pushed the half-eaten sandwich away.

The following day we went to a family party. She looked nice but a bit thin so I thought I’d better say so since she’d complained that my usual ‘You look fine’ was unsatisfactory and that I took no interest in her appearance. The kids were staying with her parents so we had the house to ourselves and I took full advantage when we got home. It was nice to get my leg over after several months of her being ‘too tired’. Sorted!

I think that was the last time we had sex. Flipping heck, that was over three years ago! She’s always too tired or, if I reach out for her in the night, she just shrugs me off in her sleep. I dont know what’s the matter with her. I work bloody hard and I have needs too.

She spends most of her time on the computer, chatting to a lot of people on that MSN thing that our teenager uses. Other people who like fighting, I suppose, but I’m sure I caught her looking at porn on it the other day when she wasn’t quite quick enough to close down the window. Since then, Ive asked her questions from the hallway, without going into the room. Seemed like the safest option.

To be honest, she hardly even speaks to me these days unless it’s something to do with the house or the finances or the children. And we can barely agree on a course of action for them. She’s all about punishments and reparation for misdemeanours and consequences for actions.

I’m sure all the fighting she does in class makes her so aggressive at home. I just want to be kind to them and not have to have rows all the time. I’m quite happy to buy them things whenever they ask and repair or replace anything that has been broken if it means avoiding a fight.

Once, when stuck between the two opposing forces, I said to my son: ‘Look, mate, I’d be quite happy for you to do it but if I say ‘yes’, your mother will shout at me too‘.

Quite often I don’t want them to do or have the things they are asking for, but I just can’t face having a disagreement about it. I get that all day at the office, I don’t want to have to come home and deal with more of it. It’s much easier to say ‘maybe‘ or ‘ask your mother‘. I really can’t be bothered to get into any more of those circular teenager arguments where we seem to be arguing for the sake of arguing. It’s so draining, time consuming and bad for my blood pressure. Anything for the quiet life.

But that’s not good enough for her either. Then she goes on about the United Front of Parents! Well, I don’t agree with it. If I think she’s being too harsh, then I shall say so and take their side. Bloody women!

Sometimes it’s actually better when she’s gone off for one of her training weekends. I have no idea where she’s gone or who she’s staying with, although she did have a couple of women to stay at ours once. It’s just more peaceful without her glowering at me whenever I make a decision in relation to what the kids want. It’s far easier from all angles for me to just say yes to every request. I can retire to the back room to play my guitar without feeling as if I have to make smalltalk, eat what I like without feeling her beady eye upon me and seeing ‘the face’.

And I can sleep through the night without getting nudged awake for snoring.

Yes, the quiet life. Far easier!

Although I do have to iron my own shirts.