Monday, November 22, 2010

Then What's the Point???

To be quite honest with you, I'm utterly grateful that I get to stay home with the kids. I'm glad I have some time with Olivia before I have to go to work. But what I'm getting tired of hearing is that I'm in charge of Everything and the home is my sole responsibility and Tristan shouldn't have to do Anything.

So, in total with commute he works 9 hours. While he's away I am also working 9 non paid hours, taking care of the kids, cooking and cleaning and making sure every one stays alive. When he gets home... he shouldn't have to do anything because he worked all day, but I get to continue with my duties cooking and cleaning and taking care of the kids and making sure every one stays alive?

If I say something like, "Tristan made me an amazing breakfast!" I get to hear things like, "He works and you made him make you breakfast?" No, he Wanted to make breakfast and it was delicious and I don't want to have to cook every single meal I eat. I need a break too.

If I say that I'm frustrated because the house needs organizing and I want to rearrange furniture I hear things like, "Tristan needs a break, that's your job anyways, get used to it."

Wow, thanks for the hospitality. Even if there wasn't a giant lump in my belly preventing me from moving or lifting furniture I would expect some sort of help. Apparently I am to take this as Tristan works and I should not ask him for a single thing. In fact, perhaps I should just ignore him when he gets home and let him relax and do what ever he wants to go and go to bed whenever he wants to and not worry about spending time with him, or that it will dramatically effect Logan if he doesn't spend any time with him. But hey, I'm being selfish.

Last time I moved furniture I threw out my back. It still pangs me. I'm 7 months pregnant. Sure, I'll deal with all the holiday stress and worry and decorations and present ideas and traditions and everything else. I'll worry about every single meal and not take a break, even if my feet are swollen and hurting, even if my heart burn gets so bad I can't move and my mouth is salivating so bad I'm puking in it. It's okay dear, you take it easy.

I'll worry about where Olivia is going to sleep, where all of her stuff is going to go and what the plan is. I'll rearrange the furniture in the room and find a home for everything. I'll sort through all the boxes we still haven't unpacked, which are still unpacked because I haven't done it since apparently everything in this god forsaken house is mine. Hell, I'll even organize your bookshelf because it's getting so chaotic that you're getting irritated.

When our house starts getting crusty because there's too much clutter and so much to do it's okay. I vacuumed yesterday and apparently it only needs to be done once a month.

I have no problem picking up chaos. What I do have a problem with is that if I'm going to go through the trouble of picking up all the crusties and sorting things out and finding homes for things or ways to do things and you come home and completely ignore what I've done making twice as much work for me in the first place when you don't want to, and apparently Shouldn't be helping me.

It really pisses me off that I am literally expected to do every single fucking thing without any consideration to me because he works. This is what I keep hearing from every single person and while I respect him working, especially as steady as he has been, I think it's bullshit. Yes, I leave him alone when he works grave yard, yes I leave him alone when he's working 12 hour shifts. But on a regular schedule there is no reason to say his work trumps mine. I could understand this if it was hard labor, but he gets more done for himself at work than I do for myself at home.

If I'm supposed to devote all my time to cooking and cleaning and taking care of every one while every one is taking care of themselves anyways, what's the point? Really? I did this shit when I was single. At least then it was less to worry about.

1 comment:

  1. p.s. This is less aimed at Tristan and more aimed at the people that keep telling me this crap, no matter how much I love them. <3

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