Okay, I don't think he reads this blog, but he knows I'm pissy right now so I don't care if I vent and he reads.
I know I've got it pretty good. He doesn't treat me like a possession, he isn't demeaning to me, he doesn't try to make me look stupid in front of people, he doesn't tell me I'm wrong when clearly he is wrong, especially in public in front of strangers and friends. And I know a husband like this, so I know I've got it pretty good.
He does do the dishes and sweep the kitchen floor. He does his own laundry and he is really handy at fixing things. He normally gets up with the kids on weekends. My oven, which has not been working since we bought this house and failed on me at many family gatherings involving lots of oven cooked food, finally seems to be working since he Macgyvered it. So I do appreciate somethings about him.
But for the past 7 1/2 years, I have been getting up and getting the child/ren ready for the day. We are not morning people, except for J who likes to get up at the crack of 5:00 am. We are all grumpy in the morning. A & I growl at each other and suffer through, some days with tears on both our parts. I make breakfast, cajole the kids into getting dressed, make lunches, make sure all bags are packed & teeth are brushed, all while counting down the time. "It is now 7:12, we have to leave in 18 minutes. You still have to finish breakfast, put on your shoes, comb your hair & brush your teeth." It is not fun at all.
I woke up this morning and instinctively knew that this was going to be one of those days. J for some reason slept past 5:00 am. He came into our room at 6:50 wanting someone to turn on the tv. (Why he can't turn on the tv in the morning is beyond me. He can turn it on at any other time of day. He has to wake us up in the morning to turn it on for him, but that is beside the point.) I realized I was late. I should have been up 10 minutes before. I climbed out of bed and just couldn't do it. I jumped back under the covers and told C that today was his morning to take care of the children. He had the gall to say "No, that's your job, I don't know how." I'm still feeling pissy about it. I just wanted a morning without conflict and yelling and to stay all cozy under the covers. I got up and did it.
This what makes me mad. Here is a typical morning for C. He gets up after the kids are up and moving. He gets the newspaper, he takes part of the newspaper off for his daily bathroom trip. 20 minutes or so later, he returns to the kitchen. He fixes a bowl of cereal and leaves the box out on the counter, generally right in the middle of my lunch making stuff. He sits down, eats his cereal, reads the newspaper with an occasional aside "Listen to your mother" or "Put on your shoes." I sometimes will tell J to go have his father help him brush his teeth or put on his shoes. C will grumble and do this. Then as I'm rushing the kids to get in the car, he gets pouty and acts hurt if we don't all kiss him goodbye.
The only good thing about this morning was that C ran out of his favorite cereal. He came into the kitchen and said that he could tell it was going to be a bad morning. Woe is him. Poor thing!
But as he likes to remind me, I've got it lucky, he does the dishes.