I don't fight/argue with my husband often, but when we get into an argument it's about my frustration with him not helping me. Or sometimes money, because we are broke jokes. Anyway, my typical day consists of:
Waking up around noon, since either my husband or the baby has kept me up til 4 am, and my sleeping schedule is really out of whack. We then get the kids ready to take daddy-o to work by 1:45. This is usually a huge battle, it includes getting the baby into a nice clean diaper and into her carseat only to have her poop up her back 2 minutes after we needed to be on the way but aren't yet. So she needs a complete change. While this is happening my 4 year old is still looking for her shoes and coat upstairs when they're really buried in her room downstairs, or in my own room under the bed or something. We then have to call her back downstairs to get her stuff on, while she has become consumed by the ever-running TV or computer up there. When we are finally heading out the door, my husband insists on letting the dogs inside. So we gate them in the hallway outside of our room so they're not running amuck unsupervised through the roommate's portion of the house. After we finally get him to work, I drive back home and try to inventory the things I have to drag back into the house. The baby in her carseat, the 4 year old, sometimes the diaper bag that is a trip all in itself some days. A drink if I stopped to grab one on the way, my phone, and any other knick knacks that need to come in. When we pull into the driveway, the dogs are back outside because they have escaped their hallway prison and gone upstairs where they're the biggest inconvenience after the cat. So I let them back in. They go down and wait by the door to my bedroom while I try not to kill myself going over the gate with the carseat and baby. If I survive that, I open the door and try to dodge my husband's banana chair which resides in the middle of my floor since my room is too tiny for ANYTHING. I set the car seat on my bed, and try to get on the bed myself so I can get the baby out before she starts crying. I pile toys around her on the bed and start looking for the dog bowls because my dogs are convinced they are starving to death and have begun trying to tear up the bag of cat food. I finally get them fed and by now the baby is crying so I lay down to nurse her. At this point one dog is finished with his food and I have to constantly yell at him to leave the other dog's food alone, which disturbs the baby and she'll pop off and look at me like I just killed someone. Right about now the four year old comes in and starts begging me for whatever she can think of, so as soon as I feel like baby's had enough I pack them all upstairs and get Briston some cereal or whatever she's asking for. I take this opportunity to make myself a hot pocket or whatever there is in the freezer. I take this downstairs to eat it to find my dogs have gotten into anything they possibly could. I brush it off and try to eat while I fight off the always-starving baby. At this point I hunt for a baby spoon and go wash it to feed the kiddo some applesauce or sweet potatoes or anything that isn't bananas or strawberries. Feeding the baby is often the calmest part of the day. Usually now I try to check my facebook or do a doodle or whatever I can between playing with the baby since she's over her toys. We do this for a good few hours before I lay down to nurse her and try to get her to take a nap. Sometimes this is easy and other times it's really really hard. Regardless she sleeps for about 20 minutes to a half hour before Briston comes in and wakes her up. So I spend a little more time getting the baby to sleep for Briston to come in and wake her again and again. Eventually I give up and play with the baby until around 8pm. I start warming up the car at about 8:30 so I can go get my husband around 9. This time varies greatly. I go through all the morning routine again, only this time by myself and finally pick up my husband. I better not be late though because he "Don't like to sit outside and wait." but god forbid I'm early because if we sit there too long a crying fest breaks out in the back seat. Once he gets in the car and we start driving home, both girls are out cold, and he doesn't understand why I'm so exhausted and frustrated when he's in the greatest mood ever.
So, honey. That's what I do all day. There are even days when I make an attempt to clean, and even some days when I'm successful! I would even make dinner if I didn't have to cook for 10 or not cook at all, but that's a story for a day when that's frustrating me. So, stay home with the kids, PLEASE?!? I'll go to work for you, and you can even be late picking me up!
Anyway, this isn't like a stab at my hubby, he really does try sometimes and I love him tons, I just wish he could understand sometimes.
Anyone else ever feel like that??
Sweet Dreams.
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