Sometimes I feel like I get taken for granted. I am at home with 4 toddlers all day every day, by myself, with only a few chances to take breaks. I do the dishes, make them meals, feed them, change them, clean them up, chase them, discipline them, read, teach and play with them. By the time 5 o'clock rolls around I'm counting the minutes until Tony gets hone to help. By the time the weekend rolls around I am totally psyched thinking about having an extra set of hands to help for 2 whole days, and maybe even getting a little time to myself, even though I know I still will have to run errands, go grocery shopping, do baths (which Tony does help with), and do most of the stuff I do during the normal week myself. He is really great with helping; he does the dishes and the laundry (I sort it and put it away once in a while), and will cook if we're making supper (I hate cooking so when we don't have time to cook we order out, isn't that horrible?!). Which is why I really can't complain about him; he's great. This whole weekend though I feel like I've been running the show by myself, and feel completely taken for granted.
Yesterday it was that he had to mow the lawn and ended up digging up hundreds of feet of a Japanese Bittersweet vine that was choking out 2 bushes and a pine tree. Then he had to take said vine and other yard clippings to the dump (4 trips). Then he wanted lunch and to take a break to read a few comics. By the time he was settled back in and "ready to help" as he put it, it was 2 o'clock. The kids were up from their naps and ready for snack and milk, which I got them. Tony took them on a walk, which was nice, and I took a 1/2 hour cat nap while they were gone. Then I had to get showered and dressed and ready to go out to get the kids shoes and Tony some new boxers and shorts. I left at 5 and got home at 9, exhausted and cranky. He was reading more comic books.
Today started with him disappearing after he tells me, "I'm just gonna jump in the shower" but then takes an extra hour doing whatever else he wanted to do to primp himself; shave, trim the eyebrows and goatee, floss, take a dump, etc., etc. He returned saying, "Hey guys, do you think Mommy wants to make us all breakfast?!?!?", like this is the 1940's or some shit. So I made waffles. The trio hated them, Gwen threw a fit about the strawberries, and Tony complained that I got spray Pam all over everything and he was going to have to spend a half hour to clean it up (his OCD won't let him leave dirty dishes in the sink or anything on the counters). After that he disappeared for ANOTHER hour and when he came back I kind of gave him an attitude. We are dropping the trio from two naps to one starting today, so everyone was tired and cranky and I was all alone to deal with all of it. He goes, "Why do you have to be like that? Do you even know what I was doing?" And I was like, "Yeah. You were doing laundry." And he said, "Yeah; I was. I brought everything up and separated all the baskets into boys and girls clothes and one basket is yours and one is Gwen's so it'll be easy for you to put it away." (Not sure if that statement was meant to be taken as him helping or mildly nagging that I put the laundry away...) This would have been an awesome help on any other day except that I had already spent 2 hours sorting the clothes into baskets by SIZE last week so I could put away all the stuff that is wintry and getting small and get out all the larger summer clothes. He didn't even ask if I had sorted it or what I wanted him to do with it or anything. I had to reinvest another 2 hours to sort it all out. I told him I was in a pissy mood because I had all this extra work to do now (thanks to him) and he just muttered under his breath and left to make lunch. After an hour I went out to the living room to get my laptop and he had a stack of comic books next to him while he was sleeping on the couch.
It was driving me nuts and when I tried to bring it up, he turned on the attitude. I just finished sorting the laundry back to the way it needed to be and boxing up the old stuff. I still haven't had a chance to shower and I haven't shaved in 3 weeks. I'm supposed to be running to the grocery store later too. But I want a nap. I want to shower. I want to curl up on the couch with an afghan and Sex and the City on DVD and a cup of cocoa and about 2 dozen chocolate chip cookies. Sigh...
Oh, the trio just woke up from their one nap today after an hour and a half. Now I want to cry... GRRRR!!!
Okay; so I drafted this earlier and have an update before posting it: After the kids woke up I let them cry until Tony heard them and had to drag his lazy ass off the couch to get them up. After about two hours of being with all 4 of them on his own while I was sorting and folding laundry (STILL! UGH!!!!), he came in and finally apologized for inadvertently making more work for me laundry-wise. I immediately retorted, "Now why the hell couldn't you have just said that in the first place? That's all I wanted. How hard would have been to say, 'Oh, shit! I'm sorry! I didn't know you had sorted it already, I thought I was helping!'?" God! It's that easy boys! When you've been an asshole, admit it, apologize and MOVE THE FUCK ON!!!!! Of course, I've tried to let it go but my PMS is making me evil (good excuse, huh?)... teehee! So yes, I am still a raging douche bag. Tomorrow is SURE to be better? LOL! Whatever.
Much, much love,
I love the picture in your header. It looks like my living room (and dining room, and kitchen...) Glad Tony apologied, sometimes men have their heads so far up their asses, it's hard for them to pull it out.
ReplyDeleteOh, I hate that! Get your defensive head out of your defensive ass and apologize for what you know damn well you did! Agh! Oh, and the fact that you didn't actually explode from the "Let's have Mommy make us breakfast" comment is a miracle.
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