Train Your Husband?

Submitted by Lynn on Mon, 07/03/2006 - 10:56am.

In the Sunday NYT, Amy Sutherland writes What Shamu Taught Me About a Happy Marriage:

We went to a counselor to smooth the edges off our marriage. She didn't understand what we were doing there and complimented us repeatedly on how well we communicated. I gave up. I guessed she was right — our union was better than most — and resigned myself to stretches of slow-boil resentment and occasional sarcasm.

Then something magical happened. For a book I was writing about a school for exotic animal trainers, I started commuting from Maine to California, where I spent my days watching students do the seemingly impossible: teaching hyenas to pirouette on command, cougars to offer their paws for a nail clipping, and baboons to skateboard.

I listened, rapt, as professional trainers explained how they taught dolphins to flip and elephants to paint. Eventually it hit me that the same techniques might work on that stubborn but lovable species, the American husband.

The central lesson I learned from exotic animal trainers is that I should reward behavior I like and ignore behavior I don't. After all, you don't get a sea lion to balance a ball on the end of its nose by nagging. The same goes for the American husband.

The techniques she talks about are not really that manipulative--in fact they're common sense and they're ones I use all the time. "Stick to your knitting" is very good advice, and there's a great story in the Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book about your magnificent magnifying glass you can use to make your spouse's good points--or bad points--bigger and bigger. And that's all she's talking about.

And still, there's something off-putting about comparing your husband to a marine mammal, especially in print. And it's even more off-putting when you realize that the one you're training is yourself--NOT your husband. Al-Anon says "Keep the focus on yourself," and it's good advice indeed.

It's articles like this what cause unrest.

Technorati Tags:
( categories: )

Related items you may be interested in:
jennye's picture

hmmm

Submitted by jennye on Mon, 07/03/2006 - 12:08pm.

my husband lives and eats like a pig, maybe this gal has something going here? LOL!

silverbear's picture

"It's all an exercise in values clarification!"

Submitted by silverbear on Mon, 07/03/2006 - 6:22pm.

That's the fallback phrase that DH and I use when we encounter someone/something that we consider to be bizarre and/or at odds with our family's value system.

And that's what I say to myself when I hear or read someone (like the author of this NYTimes article) belly-aching about such minor things as the presence of a husband's dirty socks on the floor. If that's her biggest problem, she's the luckiest woman on the planet.

In my "community" (ie military spouses) most of us would be grateful, elated, and overjoyed, if our biggest complaint was seeing dirty socks outside the hamper. I know too many women who would give anything to see those dirty socks on the floor, just one more time.

And now .. watch Silverbear go madly off in another direction!

Lynn, you are so correct when you say "stick to your knitting!" I am reminded of an email I received a while ago. It told the story of a young bride, who was receiving some last-minute marital advice from her mother. Mamma told the bride that, whenever her groom irritated her, it was best to hold her tongue and go off to crochet a doily in order to regain her composure. Some fifty-plus years later, on her deathbed, the woman related this story to her husband. She pointed him in the direction of a small box in the top drawer of her dresser. The husband opened the box, and found a single doily, atop a large stash of cash. The tears flowed as he said, "you only became angry with me once??" The wife replied, "Oh, no, darling! I sold all but one of the doilies. That's where that $10,000 came from!"

For what it's worth, I've made quite a few knitted dishcloths over the years. Smiling

jennye's picture

I'll have to take up making

Submitted by jennye on Mon, 07/03/2006 - 6:39pm.

I'll have to take up making doilies. hehehe!!

I can't complain too much right now. DH hasn't been home for me to nag at. He's been on the tractor almost nonstop for 2 months getting 1,200 acres plowed, plowed again, and now planted.

just me's picture

how to train your husband

Submitted by just me (not verified) on Tue, 02/12/2008 - 6:40am.

A movie I saw years ago......

Plot summary for
If a Man Answers (1962)
advertisement photos board trailer details

Rich socialite, Sandra Dee meets and marries photographer Bobby Darin and attempts to "train" him to be the perfect husband. Look for a very young Stephanie Powers as the devious friend . Written by Anonymous

Chantel worries about her new marriage to photographer Eugene failing so she decides to take her mother's advice and manipulate him. First, her mother gives her a book that will solve all her problems about how to treat a husband - namely a book on how to train dogs. Then, her mother gives her a second trick, an imaginary boyfriend who used to come in handy during her own marriage to Chantel's father. However, if Chantel's mother made this man up, what is she going to do when Eugene brings him home for dinner one night? Written by MaxVaughn

Dano02VFR's picture

Totally outrageous! You

Submitted by Dano02VFR (not verified) on Tue, 02/19/2008 - 3:31pm.

Totally outrageous!
You should not be married if you have to "train" someone!

Guest's picture

Unbelievable! I wonder how

Submitted by Guest (not verified) on Wed, 02/20/2008 - 6:41pm.

Unbelievable! I wonder how woman would feel is they were compared to whales and elephants! Let there be no doubt why there are now more unmarried people in this country than married!

cjsmom44's picture

RE: Train your Husband

Submitted by cjsmom44 on Wed, 02/27/2008 - 9:03am.

I just love it....the quote "that stubborn but lovable species, the American husband" So very true. Take it from someone married to the same man for 30 years...a very long term marriage to say the least..... Husbands need training...bottom line...The training I speak of is more a from of behavioral "therapy" ...
Not all husbands come with the tools needed for a marriage...such as communication skills, negotiation skills etc. and I believe that many of our husbands come with old baggage they need to work though...many of us do go for marital and or personal therapy...but in the meantime, having the skills necessary to reward good behavior and ignore bad behavior is a must when dealing with husbands with limited relationship skills....It is not a training that has to be demeaning to our hubby but affirming and encouraging...training is NOT a bad thing...it is a necessary tool...
Just my thoughts ....

cjsmom44's picture

RE: Invisible Mothers

Submitted by cjsmom44 on Thu, 02/28/2008 - 3:45am.

A good friend just sent this to me...enjoy

Invisible Mother......

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this ? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

A t times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college forThanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know... I just did.
The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.

Guest's picture

Invisible Mother

Submitted by Guest (not verified) on Fri, 04/04/2008 - 12:27pm.

This excerpt is from Nicole Johnson's novel The Invisible Woman (W Publishing Group, 2005). For more information, check out the author's Web site at www.freshbrewedlife.com.

Your quote doesn't contain the whole story:

cjsmom44 wrote:
A good friend just sent this to me...enjoy

Invisible Mother......

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this ? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

A t times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college forThanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know... I just did.
The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.

Post new comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • You may quote other posts using [quote] tags.
  • Textual smileys will be replaced with graphical ones.
  • Web and e-mail addresses are automatically converted into links.
More information about formatting options