Hey, did I tell you about unconscious overclaiming?

Dear Liz,

I've been getting really irritated with my husband lately. I won't get into too much detail - partially because it wouldn't make it past my proofreader (who is, of course, my husband) - but the reasons are usually in the vein of the helpless husband trope. Not to mention the tragedy that was him trimming my hair - we both deserve blame for getting ourselves into that situation. Put that one into the "let's never do that again" category. At any rate, I've been indulging entirely too much in the whole "sigh, must I do everything myself?" sentiment.

When I find myself feeling this level of negativity (especially when nothing has really changed), that's my sign that I likely need to recalibrate myself. I wonder if I've fallen prey to "unconscious overclaiming", which is basically the tendency to unconsciously overestimate your contributions in comparison to other people (in my case, my husband).

There is this a How to DAD video that makes fun of the fact that after women have kids, their husbands are no longer allowed to claim that they are tired or in pain - their wives will always one up them. I laughed hysterically at the video because it's so relatable - I have definitely done that to Trevor, especially when the kiddos were babies. It isn't a direct example of unconscious overclaiming, but it brings out how common it is to downplay what someone else is going through because you're certain you've been through worse. Unconscious overclaiming seems equally common, partially because:

1. We are simply more aware of what we do (and somewhat oblivious to what others are doing).

2. We tend to do work that we value or think is important. I think this is a big one.

3. We often think we are the only ones who do particular tasks (the "I always", "you never" trap…).

4. We tend to think that other people's tasks are easy in comparison to ours. There are many times I've jealously eyeballed Trevor on his way to the office to enjoy a quiet cubicle while he leaves me with two hysterical children…

This also brings to mind Romans 12:16, which I really like in the AMPC version: "Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty (snobbish, high-minded, exclusive), but readily adjust yourself to [people, things] and give yourselves to humble tasks. Never overestimate yourself or be wise in your own conceits."

I think an important takeaway from this understanding is that we don't really see ourselves and others as clearly as we think. This is where what Gretchen Rubin terms "making the positive argument" can come in handy. If I am thinking something negative, I can essentially argue with myself and make a positive case for it. The idea is to come to a more balanced outlook. So I played this out:

Negative me: "Look at [supposedly irrefutable evidence]. Do I have to do everything around here?"

Positive me: "Everything? Doesn't he unload and reload the dishes every night and makes sure the dishwasher is full and running before bed so you have clean and dry dishes in the morning? Doesn't he set up the coffee maker and program it so that you wake up to fresh brewed coffee every morning? Doesn't he clean out the cat box? Take out the trash? Yes, there are endless other things to be done, but he takes over with the kids from the moment he's done with work until they are both in bed and let's be real - at that point in the day, you'd rather do housework than kid duty anyways."

Negative me: "Ugh, this house project is taking forever. He overthinks everything."

Positive me: "Hmm, have you forgotten all the times your quick draw approach has backfired? Remember that time we bought 100 feet of wire to hang those café lights, and instead of reading the package, you ripped it open like a rabid racoon and the wire spooled out everywhere? Trevor was trying to get you to slow down and read the package - it was designed to be pulled out through the package as needed, keeping it contained and untangled. It took FOREVER to put that wire up after that. His slow and steady approach has saved us heartache countless times."

If we are willing to be truly honest with ourselves, I think this exercise can be uniquely effective because it removes the defensiveness or tendency to justify because we are arguing with ourselves. The goal is to not win an argument, but to ensure that we are maintaining a balanced perspective. There may still be issues that need to be addressed, but we will be far more effective in how we confront those issues if we are coming at it with less self righteousness and more appreciation.

The best thing about this exercise, though, is that what can begin as a criticism or negativity in your heart can turn into a love letter. As perverse as this makes me sound, it actually made it easier for me to recognize all that Trevor does and how much he brings to our family by arguing with my real, unfiltered thoughts - much more than trying a "gratitude journal" approach to managing frustration or discontent. Maybe it's because confronting my specific thoughts directly makes me face how unfair I am being. Maybe I'm just contrary. Either way, I highly recommend it.

When Esme was super little, she used to wake up for the day around 6:00 am. I couldn't manage to wake up earlier than that to get my coffee and gear up for the day (these were the days of 2-3 night feeds), so Trevor would cuddle with her to buy me 30 or 40 minutes to sip my coffee and come alive before he had to get up and get ready for work…