If You Want Something Done Right...

Last night I did something I hate: I asked Y to do something for me, and then I criticized how he did it.

We spent the day with the boys, swimming and barbecuing, and then had plans to chill out and rent a movie alone at night, so I really wanted to get the kids to sleep early. We came home and I informed Y that he was going to give them a bath, even though I usually do it, because it was Mother's Day and I wasn't in the mood.

He threw them in the tub. I wanted them chlorine-free, PJ'd, and in bed, pronto, so when I walked by the bathroom ten minutes later and saw Y sitting there, just hanging out, and the boys splashing away, hair dry, I snapped, "Go ahead and wash them already, they don't need to play, they've been playing in water all day and it's getting late." He went, "Oh, ok," and got on it.

Six minutes later, I'm washing dishes, and hear "Maaaaaa-aaaag??! Ariel wants yooouuu to rinse the shampoo out of his hair!!!" from upstairs.
Rolling my eyes, I bellow, "I don't CARE what he wants, just do it yourself, he screams when I do it, too!"
"Ok!"
Five minutes later: "What PJ's do you want him in???"
"I. DON'T. CARE. JUST GET HIM IN THEM!"

I take off my dishwashing gloves and venture upstairs. Y is lovingly moisturizing a now-diapered Ariel's chapped, pruny skin, while playing Marco-Polo with Elan, who is still in the tub, hair still dry, face still popsicle-stained.

I fume, "So Elan isn't even washed yet?? Come on, Y, this is ridiculous! The floor is all wet, you've been at this 20 minutes and only one child is ready for bed so far! I have them both clean and under the covers in SEVEN MINUTES EVERYSINGLENIGHT!!! Why does it take you so long? Why can't you use the bathmat? I'm going to have to clean up after you now!"

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.

Y just looks at me. His words are to-the-point: "You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes."

He tosses a now towel-wrapped Elan over his shoulder and heads for the bedroom.
I follow, ashamed.
"I'm really sorry. That was uncalled for. I know you were trying to help, and probably were doing the best you can."
Him: "Fine, forget it."
We forgot it, got the kids to sleep, ate leftover pound cake, watched "Capote" (Y fell asleep half-through, I thought it was wonderful).

But the whole episode left a bad taste in my mouth. I really, really do want help with the kid chores, but I really, really also think I do a better job of them than anyone else. With everything I do, I clean up as I go, I multi-task, I wash one child's hair while scrubbing the other's armpits, I move quickly to save myself having to do more work later. It's just my way. Then, once the boys are finally off dreaming, I let myself relax for the rest of the night. I cook dinner, listen to music, watch TV with Y --- slow down. The system generally works for me, but I'll admit I'm occasionally left with nagging questions at the end of the week:

Did I move too quickly? Miss the opportunity to feel relaxed while WITH the kids, not just once they're tucked away? Am I too concerned over a puddle of water on the bathroom floor?
[P.S. this one I'm pretty sure I'm right about, because anyone who has ever stepped on a wet rug in socks knows how that can ruin an otherwise good time.]
And finally, when I let Y do more to help me, could I just let him do it his way, and not do damage control afterwards? Is it worth it?

Is it better to do something yourself to ensure that your standards are met, or to outsource the job and accept the imperfections that come with not having had to get your own hands wet?

I'm still working on this one.