I live for weekends. I love my breaks. I love being able to spend some time cleaning the house without worrying about him screaming for cuddles or her drawing on the TV.
On Saturday, I woke up and came downstairs. Normally, I would have done the washing up on the Friday night so it wouldn’t be the first thing I had to face on Saturday morning. Sadly, I had broken the discipline and decided not to do it. I had been told it would be done, so when I came downstairs and was faced with it, I was not impressed.
I got a chance to go back to bed at 9.30ish and then was woken up at 10.10 to feed. O fell asleep so I rested and had a break until 11 30. I brave downstairs and he announces he wants a shower. He has shower then does lunch. He serves up beans on toast (bread not cut) and expects me to be able to eat one-handed while I feed O again.
Then he buggers off. So I’m sat looking at my food going cold, O on the boob and her shouting “finished” and waving crusts in the air while he’s having a seemingly “urgent” conversation with our lodger.
I get to eat and he decides O needs to sleep so he takes him. I then clean up my dinner stuff and sort washing out. Then I say jokingly we should go get an EEE Pad Transformer this afternoon.
He says “We could go get the pieces for the computer…” then disappears off to the other room to look on said computer for parts.
I was so fed up. I wish I could just leave the room willy nilly and not have to worry about looking after two small children, but my life doesn’t work like that. I have to schedule in time to clean the house, or do the washing up/washing/cleaning when the children go to bed and I’m dead on my feet.
Sometimes I wish he could see it’s not just one thing that makes me snap, it’s the bigger picture.