I don’t mean to use exclamations with every post header, but sometimes excitement needs to bleed through the blogosphere. Not to say this is a happy post. It is, kinda.
I received this email from my husband Monday morning –
you know, I’m just gonna say it now: if things don’t work out between us I would take responsibility for it. I can’t say for sure where I made a mistake, or keep making the mistake. I know alot of times I’m inconsistent, that probably could be it.
WTF?!?! I’ve been really frustrated with my husband. I mean, really frustrated. I’m also extremely self-reflective. I like to see myself and grow, recognize my faults and try to fix them. So, sometimes frustration builds within me because I’m not sure expressing it is the right thing to do. I ferment in the commentary for days and sometimes weeks before I open my mouth.
My husband doesn’t clean. Now, I don’t mean like simple stuff. Well, I kinda do. He’ll wash dishes, but that’s mainly because he likes to cook and clean dishes are necessary to cook. Mind you, only enough dishes are cleaned to use for that night. (We do have a dishwasher, that rarely gets loaded by him.)
Otherwise, cleaning is extremely limited to necessities – need a pair a socks, throw in a load of laundry. Need to put some table space, wipe off the table, etc… It makes me want to scream! Even more strenuous is the fact that when we go back to his parents’ house, he cleans daily! Sweeps, mops, dishes, sometimes laundry, wipes down tables. But in our own house, I’m lucky to find a place for my son to sit down and have breakfast.
One culprit is the mail. He will empty the mailbox, bring it in, mostly junk mail and solicitations. What does he do with it? Knowing that he won’t go through it, and I have made him aware that I won’t? Oh, it gets tossed on the table. It’s even worse when there is a rare piece of mail that needs to be opened. That piece of mail becomes at least three – the trash envelope, the return envelope and the bill. Why does it stay on the table considering we pay all of our bills online? I don’t know. What’s worse is sometimes the bill is already paid and yet the mailer will sit on the table.
This is ONE thing that happens on a regular basis. Being pregnant, I’m exhausted. She has drained all of my energy, truly making me want to spend most days and nights in my bed, on my side… watching my house turn slowly into a non-livable habitat. After enduring the frustration on my own, I spoke with a friend, then another… both had similar stories.
It’s good to know that I’m not alone…