(or something like that. Don’t exactly quote me on the above number since I’m only going off of memory of something I previously read.)
Now while I can’t see myself joining the above percentage, I do see how it happens.
Before baby, said married couple has a strong marriage. A great one full of awesome communication. The wife does her own thing, the husband does his, & then things are done as a couple. It’s easy & you think that throwing a baby into the mix will just add diapers to your life. Ha!
After baby, even the strongest of married couples (myself & Tarzan included) start to unravel a bit. Communication lacks due to sleepness nights. I wish my husband could read my mind. To Tarzan it probably feels like nothing he does is right.
Actually, I know that last statement to be true because I asked him that last night. I said, “Do you feel like anything you do is not right?” & he said, “Yes”.
It’s just that half the time when he tries to help out, I end up having to do some of it anyways. So really it’s not helping me out; he’s creating more work for me. If he changes a diaper, he leaves the wipe box open & leaves the dirty diaper on the changing table. I guess in his mind he changed the dirty diaper – picking up after himself was not included.
And it’s even more than just things baby-related. One of my biggest pet peeves is the trash. My husband would be more than happy to just let the trash pile up in the garbage can, around the garbage can, & anywhere in between. Once the trash gets full, in my mind, it needs to be taken out.
Since he doesn’t take it out on his own, I remind him. & lots of times I’m irritated when I remind him because I don’t see how a grown man can’t just do it on his own. Anyways, he’ll take the trash bag out of the garbage can & set it on the side of the garbage can. Again, this irritates me as I do not want a freakin’ bag of trash just sitting out in the kitchen. Gross.
So then I ask him to take it out to the garage & he does that. When he comes back inside, he continues about his business, complete with not putting in a new trash bag. So I do the natural thing & just wait it out to see how long it will take him to put a new trash bag in the can. He doesn’t. Instead he’ll put a used napkin or paper plate on the counter right by where the garbage can lives.
Then I ask him to put a damn trash bag in the garbage can & I look like the bad guy. In my mind though, why doesn’t he just complete the whole task instead of doing it half-assed?!
At times it feels like I went from a married woman to a single parents with 2 kids. And that’s annoying.
Then there was this morning. Monkey woke up ridiculously early (too bad he didn’t get the memo that it’s cool to sleep in on the weekends) and I waited to see if Tarzan would get out of bed. I mean, surely he heard the monitor. It was hard to miss. But he didn’t move an inch. Sigh.
I started to get out of bed, like I do every morning, & Tarzan (suddenly awake) says, “I’m sorry”.
Now, I’m sorry, but that’s the last damn thing I want to hear when it’s 5:30am. So of course, I said something. I said, “Don’t be sorry, just get up every once and a while. I do it every single morning.” Then he chimes in with, “Well I tried to get up with Monkey yesterday morning”. And then I just started to laugh. For real.
Yesterday morning Tarzan woke up because our dog was crying. Yes, if it’s not the baby, it’s the dog. He got up, closed our bedroom door, and went on about his business. About 10 minutes later I heard crying. From the monitor. Inside our room. The one that my husband “forgot” to turn off if he truly was going to let me sleep in.
Of course his excuse was, “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to getting up with him in the morning & forgot about the monitor.” You may not be used to turning off the monitor, but it’s been there, in the same place, for the past (almost) 7 months. Talk about annoying.
It’s all these little things, but they begin to add up & cause me to go off like a time bomb at any given moment. And I hate that I’ve turned into that wife/mom, but there’s a lot on my mind. Monkey screaming, the dog crying, Monkey crying, the dirty dishes that need to go into the dishwasher, the laundry that needs to be done, the house that needs to be cleaned, the errands that need to be run, and on and on and on.
And where’s my time in all of that?! Once Monkey goes to be, I’m exhausted & ready for bed too. It’s a freakin’ endless cycle and I wish that I didn’t get so annoyed at my husband, but he creates more work for me at times. I wish he helped out more, all while knowing that he has to work, but wishing that he had an “easier” job.
I’ll leave you with this last little gem. This morning I was trying to eat breakfast. Monkey has learned this new, um, “trick” with his voice & he makes it quiver likes he’s about to scream, but he’s just playing. Anyways, it sends chills up my spine. The dog was whining because she wanted some of my breakfast & Tarzan had escaped upstairs doing whatever he was doing.
I was about to lose it, so I yelled upstairs, “Can you come down & take Monkey & the dog upstairs with you? I just need like 10 minutes to eat in peace & have to myself.” Tarzan says, “You don’t have to talk to me like that.” So I reply with, “It’s not that I’m talking mean to you, I’m just frustrated. I wish you understood.” and he says, “I do understand”. Yeah, right (I didn’t say it out loud though.)
Clearly I had asked him to take the dog & Monkey upstairs & give me time to myself… so what does he do? He comes into the kitchen & whistles at Monkey (like he’s a dog) & starts making his breakfast. I feel myself getting so pissed off. He makes his coffee, gets everything ready for his meal, and Monkey is still making noises. I’m thisclose to tell Tarzan that Monkey is a baby, not a dog, but I keep my mouth shut.
Instead I say, “I asked you if you would take them upstairs & give me quiet time. Are you planning on doing that?” He says, “Give me two more minutes.” Why, oh why, was it so important that you make your breakfast at the exact damn time that I ask you to help me out???
And this, my friends, is why I get so annoyed so easily all of the time. I feel like I can’t win. I know that Tarzan can’t read my mind, but when I come out and ask him for help & tell him specifically what to do, he doesn’t do it.
So I can totally see how this life gets to be just too much for some & they opt for a divorce. But, while I can see it, I know that that is not in the cards for us… We just need to find a balance between us & FAST.
You might also want to read:
- Father/Child Outings: Does it happen often?
- Quickie: How many of you let your child sleep with you?
- I can think of a million better ways to start my morning than to argue with my husband.
- Oh. My. Gosh. – Lunching with a screaming child makes me want to pull my hair out
- A note to my child who is currently living in my wife’s pregnant belly.