The Trouble With Husbands, Housework, and Hormones…A Rant.
Okay, so I just need to vent. Big time. I may say things in this post that tomorrow I will no longer mean. But right now, I am stressed-out, and I am pissed. And it would do me more good to write, even if it is angry, than to go around cutting the crotch out of all of Dan’s pants or sitting here crying. (No, I wouldn’t really cut the crotch out of his pants…Well, maybe if he was cheating, but I am confident that he is not.)
There has just been too much going on in such a short period. My life is like a whirlwind of chaos and stress, and all I want is for things to finally go back to normal and run smoothly. I am tired of being exhausted. I am tired of feeling sick and dizzy all the time. I am tired of the “Bedrest Police” aka Dan not letting me do anything but lay around while everything around me deteriorates because I am not able to take care of things. I am pregnant, not crippled. I am tired of being treated like I am an invalid.
I am used to things being a certain way…No, I am not the most organized person in the world. But I do like to keep a clean house. I don’t want crap all over the counters. I don’t want dishes piled in the sink that haven’t even been rinsed. I mean, how hard is it to rinse your dishes before putting them in the sink? And that is IF they even make it to the sink! I am tired of the refrigerator being a mess…I am tired of the carpets that desperately need shampooing being a mess…I am sick of the bathrooms being absolutely disgusting because no one wants to clean them properly, and I am not “allowed” to do it. I am tired of the clutter and not knowing where anything is anymore. With me ALWAYS being pregnant and on bedrest, I have had to let the housework become the responsibility of my very sloppy husband and my 10 year old boy. So needless to say, nothing gets done, and when it does, it isn’t done properly.
I understand that he works his butt off to take care of us. I know he is tired when he comes home. I do not fault him for that. But if something needs to be done, why not just do it rather than let it get to the point of absolute filth? Especially if he doesn’t want me to get fed up and just do it myself? Take today, for example…Today has been a nightmare. I woke up feeling very sick. Sophie was fussy this morning, and in trying to take care of her, I got a bad headache for the 2nd day in a row. And of course, I can’t take anything but Tylenol, and anyone who suffers from migraines knows that Tylenol is a joke. Then I try and run a few errands, and I get home to 5 missed calls from the school. Kyle was sick and in the clinic with a sore throat and a fever of 100.7. So of course, I brought him home. I then tried to find the children’s Tylenol to help with his fever and sore throat, and NOOOO, that wasn’t where it belonged at all. It took me an hour to find it! WHY WAS THE TYLENOL IN THE DRAWER WITH THE DISH RAGS? This is what happens when you let a man try and clean….
So after I am stressed and in tears, Dan calls from work. I am crying. I am just so overwhelmed lately. They still are screwing his paychecks up, and now owe him 800.00, if not a little more. And we have had a house full of kids for the better part of a week, so groceries are low. And of course, there is no money for food. So that stressed me out. And the mess is stressing me out. And when your child is sick, that is stressful. So by the time he called, I was already in tears and exhausted from trying to do cleaning I am not supposed to be doing in the first place. I tried to tell him that I am just stressed, and that I shouldn’t have to live in a filthy house with no food, and that I felt instead of coming home and either half-assing everything or just sitting around doing nothing, he should really be trying to get things to a manageable level, since medically, I am not allowed to do much right now. He then YELLED at me for doing the dishes, and told me I was going to get dizzy and end up in a coma since my BP has been low. (If no one else is going to get anything done, what am I SUPPOSED to do?) So because I was pissed, I responded with, “I would rather be in the hospital and in a coma than be married to a man that is too lazy to care that the house is falling apart, and doesn’t have enough balls to get his paychecks fixed so his family can eat.”
He hung-up on me. I do NOT like being hung-up on. To me, that is one of the rudest things you can do to a person. And it isn’t like he was busy at work…He was calling because the shop was dead and he was bored. He called when I was already stressed and crying, and rather than being supportive and reassuring, he just blew up at me for doing dishes and cleaning that no one else will do, and he hung-up on me. If I had the gas to go anywhere, I would SO get the hell out of here till he apologizes.
I mean, is it wrong of me to want my home to be clean and not look like a bachelor pad? Is it wrong of me to be pissed that his employer has shorted 4 paychecks in a row? Is it wrong that I am worried to death over how we’re going to make ends meet? I mean, I am already sick…I am already hormonal…Should I really have to be the only one who worries about our well-being? I think as a husband and a father, he should be trying to take some of that stress off of my shoulders rather than just add to it. So instead of nagging him to death, I decide to just do the housework myself. And I get yelled at. If I don’t do it, it won’t get done right.
I am sick of having to worry about bills while he just floats through life without a care in the world. He isn’t the one who has to worry all the time. I do that. He doesn’t have to worry about how we’re getting groceries or what we need to do in order to make ends meet. That is all on me.
I am just done with it. Done. I am so mad right now. I feel like he just doesn’t care. And to yell at me for trying to take care of the home our children have to live in? That is beyond messed up. If he was soooo worried about me staying on bedrest, he should have thought about that and taken care of things properly instead of allowing everything to just go to shit. What am I supposed to do? Ugghhhhhh…I cannot wait till I am no longer pregnant and will be treated like a normal person rather than some cripple who can’t wash a friggin dish without getting yelled at for it.