Ramblings of an exhausted woman


I’m cooking and baking, getting ready for an event for my daughters tomorrow. In the meantime, he rents a movie from the video on-demand, without giving me any notice. So I suck it up and miss out on most of the movie as I make my many promised goodies. In the meantime I direct my youngest to take a bath, as it is way past her regular bedtime. I resume cooking, but 5 min later she’s calling for shampoo. I ask him for help. He grudgingly obliges. Then a cacophony of yelling erupts from the bathroom because apparently the floor is wet. (Imagine that.) he then returns to his movie and let’s her marinate in the bath. I wait and then wait some more and then finally wash my hands of my work and go pull her from the tub, promptly directing the older child to follow suit.
He still sits, glued to the movie. Once the movie ends he finally gets up and puts them to bed as I finish up the food. I finally sit. I had been on my feet all evening, making dinner, chasing kids and them creating the party items for the next day. I was exhausted.
That’s when he comes to me. That’s when he finally says hello but it’s not about hellos, it’s about what I can now do for him…
I look at him like “really? I’m exhausted.” I rattle off the chores I completed and how I was still recovering from the lack of sleep. AND THAT’S WHEN HE GETS HUFFY… “Well, I put the kids to bed tonight” he rebutted. “And I watched them last night!”
Really? That’s all you got? Wow, let me turn in my parent card now. You got me.
Ugh.
Really?
He’s not a bad dad. He’s quite awesome when he wants to be. But damn. That’s not considered chores dude, that’s called parenting. You’re not “babysitting” if they are your kids. You’re not “doing me a favor” by doing the dishes, nor should I HAVE to pay you back in some manner. That’s called being an adult.
Sorry.
I’m tired of that shit. And the sad thing is, most men are like this. All of my friends husbands have this same mentality, so I don’t think he is some singular jerk. This is a problem with most (not all) men.
Ugh. And you wonder why women hop the fence… It’s called teamwork. I need help, and I shouldn’t have to promise favors for it. I don’t mind doing the work but when it gets heavy and I’m in the weeds, or am about to keel over from exhaustion don’t ask me to do something “special” for you. I don’t do that to him. I wait. I tried not to interrupt his movie, but life happens. We are parents first.
Ugh. I hate going to bed. I don’t like trying not to disturb him. I don’t want to be groped. He loves me yet I feel like I’m never asked if I want to be groped. I’m tired. I want to fall asleep. I’m exhausted and now I have to again defend my space. I can’t just not want to so I must have a headache or a period that comes and goes, or bubble gut. Anything, just so I can lay in peace.
And then I wonder where my sexual loyalty lies. Is it the space that spans us on days like this, that amplifies my desire? Or is my desire for women making me recoil at his attempts when we are not grooving to the same beat?

Later on He was flipping through channels and came across the Conan Series with Kevin Sorbot and asked if he was someone I used to drool over. My mind automatically went to Zena and her hot little blonde sidekick… I said nothing…
Shit… How long ago were those series?
I never had an interest in Conan… Ever…
God help… What the hell am I doing? Ugh.
Good night blogosphere…

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Life, Self Discovery

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