day of rest?
DAY OF REST?
Days like this remind me sharply why things are going wrong here.
Bear with me, I'm moaning - yet again.
Sunday morning, and I wake up at 5.20am with stomach ache so after lying there for a short while I decide to get up because I'm uncomfortable and don't want to disturb everyone else.
Downstairs, I put the kettle on, switch on the pc and have an hour checking emails and reading a few blogs.
Then I decide to get a few things done around the house. You might be forgiven, at this point, for thinking I live in a neglected pigsty. I don't. At the risk of boring you, this is what I accomplished between the hours of 7am and 11am - 4 hours.
Swept kitchen floor
Mopped kitchen floor
Washed DH's supper dishes from previous night
Took washing out of tumble dryer, sorted and folded it
Put washing in washing machine
Prepared roast beef for dinner - put it in the oven
Prepared casserole for tomorrow night's dinner
Two hours worth of ironing - this was a LOT of ironing - believe me
Made breakfast for the family
Washed and put away breakfast dishes
Tidied lounge
Polished lounge
Hoovered lounge
Put away ironed clothes
At 11am, DH took the children to see his parents. I told him I was going to take a bath.
So, I got my book, a nice hot drink, and went upstairs to run a bath.
While the bath was running, I changed the bedding on our bed, ran downstairs, emptied the washer of the previous load putting it in the dryer, then put the bedding on to wash. Nothing like multi-tasking.
At about 11.30am I finally got in the bath. My one indulgence of the week. My quiet time, with a tidy house and no-one to disturb me.
11.45am and the phone rings - I ignore it, we have an answerphone. No message left though.
Almost immediately, the phone rings again. Again I ignore it. Still no message.
Then again it rings.
So I think that someone urgently needs me and I leap out of the bath and run downstairs, dripping wet and naked and snatch up the phone.
Just as I pick it up, it is put down at the other end.
So I check the last incoming number and it is DH's parents. I call them back.
Father in law answers the phone. I ask if someone wants me.
Silence. Then he hands the phone to DH who says....
'I just wanted you to get your fat arse out of the bath. You've had long enough.'
I'm still speechless from this turn of events.
Now you may think that it cannot get any worse from here. But it does. I get back in the bath, peace now destroyed, but I still have to wash my hair etc etc so I finish up, get out of bath and potter around upstairs for a few moments sorting out the bedrooms.
When I go downstairs, DH is sat reading the paper. The children have stayed at the grandparents for lunch. In the kitchen, the remnants of his lunch are strewn across every worksurface. Empty tuna can. Jar of mayonnaise. Loaf of bread. Various items of cutlery. Empty plate. Lots of crumbs.
No lunch for me though.
So I clear up after him and make a drink. Then I tell him I am going to come online and do some work.
He says I can help him in the garden.
I say that actually, I have worked pretty damned hard this morning and I don't want to go in the garden today. That the house is sorted, dinner is sorted and that I am having some time to do what I choose to do.
He remarks that the house is not sorted as the kitchen needs painting, one child's bedroom needs attacking and clearing out, I still have to alter the curtains for our bedroom, there are clothes that need sorting in the wardrobe etc etc.
I do hundreds of tasks in this house every single day. I cook meals. I make sure everyone has everything they need when they need it. I fetch, carry and slog my guts out to keep things running smoothly. I multi-function as a taxi-driver. I pay all the bills and organise all the finances, renew all the insurances. He goes to work. Admittedly he works long hard hours - I accept this. I never ask him to do anything within the home and he never ever has to. When he is off work he spends his time watching tv or playing on the PS2, or generally doing something he wants to do.
Or else he finds the few tasks that I have not managed to complete, points them out and then makes a damn big show of doing them himself, along with the narrative of how hard done to he is.
Right now he is upstairs, clearing out the eldest's room.
This is after he announced that he is never, not ever, doing a single shred of house maintenance ever again because it is a 'waste of fucking time' and I never get off my 'fat arse' and do it.
Reality bites
Days like this remind me sharply why things are going wrong here.
Bear with me, I'm moaning - yet again.
Sunday morning, and I wake up at 5.20am with stomach ache so after lying there for a short while I decide to get up because I'm uncomfortable and don't want to disturb everyone else.
Downstairs, I put the kettle on, switch on the pc and have an hour checking emails and reading a few blogs.
Then I decide to get a few things done around the house. You might be forgiven, at this point, for thinking I live in a neglected pigsty. I don't. At the risk of boring you, this is what I accomplished between the hours of 7am and 11am - 4 hours.
Swept kitchen floor
Mopped kitchen floor
Washed DH's supper dishes from previous night
Took washing out of tumble dryer, sorted and folded it
Put washing in washing machine
Prepared roast beef for dinner - put it in the oven
Prepared casserole for tomorrow night's dinner
Two hours worth of ironing - this was a LOT of ironing - believe me
Made breakfast for the family
Washed and put away breakfast dishes
Tidied lounge
Polished lounge
Hoovered lounge
Put away ironed clothes
At 11am, DH took the children to see his parents. I told him I was going to take a bath.
So, I got my book, a nice hot drink, and went upstairs to run a bath.
While the bath was running, I changed the bedding on our bed, ran downstairs, emptied the washer of the previous load putting it in the dryer, then put the bedding on to wash. Nothing like multi-tasking.
At about 11.30am I finally got in the bath. My one indulgence of the week. My quiet time, with a tidy house and no-one to disturb me.
11.45am and the phone rings - I ignore it, we have an answerphone. No message left though.
Almost immediately, the phone rings again. Again I ignore it. Still no message.
Then again it rings.
So I think that someone urgently needs me and I leap out of the bath and run downstairs, dripping wet and naked and snatch up the phone.
Just as I pick it up, it is put down at the other end.
So I check the last incoming number and it is DH's parents. I call them back.
Father in law answers the phone. I ask if someone wants me.
Silence. Then he hands the phone to DH who says....
'I just wanted you to get your fat arse out of the bath. You've had long enough.'
I'm still speechless from this turn of events.
Now you may think that it cannot get any worse from here. But it does. I get back in the bath, peace now destroyed, but I still have to wash my hair etc etc so I finish up, get out of bath and potter around upstairs for a few moments sorting out the bedrooms.
When I go downstairs, DH is sat reading the paper. The children have stayed at the grandparents for lunch. In the kitchen, the remnants of his lunch are strewn across every worksurface. Empty tuna can. Jar of mayonnaise. Loaf of bread. Various items of cutlery. Empty plate. Lots of crumbs.
No lunch for me though.
So I clear up after him and make a drink. Then I tell him I am going to come online and do some work.
He says I can help him in the garden.
I say that actually, I have worked pretty damned hard this morning and I don't want to go in the garden today. That the house is sorted, dinner is sorted and that I am having some time to do what I choose to do.
He remarks that the house is not sorted as the kitchen needs painting, one child's bedroom needs attacking and clearing out, I still have to alter the curtains for our bedroom, there are clothes that need sorting in the wardrobe etc etc.
I do hundreds of tasks in this house every single day. I cook meals. I make sure everyone has everything they need when they need it. I fetch, carry and slog my guts out to keep things running smoothly. I multi-function as a taxi-driver. I pay all the bills and organise all the finances, renew all the insurances. He goes to work. Admittedly he works long hard hours - I accept this. I never ask him to do anything within the home and he never ever has to. When he is off work he spends his time watching tv or playing on the PS2, or generally doing something he wants to do.
Or else he finds the few tasks that I have not managed to complete, points them out and then makes a damn big show of doing them himself, along with the narrative of how hard done to he is.
Right now he is upstairs, clearing out the eldest's room.
This is after he announced that he is never, not ever, doing a single shred of house maintenance ever again because it is a 'waste of fucking time' and I never get off my 'fat arse' and do it.
Reality bites
posted by Deadly Female at 8:38 AM
13 Comments:
ONe word hon..."BASTARD"..jeeze hon. He really knows how to kick someone when they are low doesnt he. Gods how on earth did you keep quiet..I would have told him where to get off.
I really think he needs a reality check, and very soon..
*hugs* hon, I am here if you need a shoulder*hugs*
fuck him is the easy answer, albeit a correct one.
the hard question is how you can get yourself into a position to leave.
i'm sorry.
i'm sorry to say this but... your husband's an asshole, that's what he is.
What a pleasant person your husband is. Perhaps you should make him a "special" exlax cake to cheer him up
geez!
If I didn't have the history I have...I would be shocked. However, suffice it to say, I once lived with such a fucktard, and I feel your frustration.
Oh my fucking gosh. I'm so sorry.
Ouch.
That is seriously wrong.
Sasha has it completely right.
In fact, everyone who went before me is completely right. What a fucktard.
Sending sympathy and huge hugs, DF. Am here if you need me.
Minxxxxxx
after reading your comment on my last entry i realized that we have things in common. this is mental connection here. i like it.
but that doesn't change the fact that your husband's a fuckwit.
Thankyou all so much - I read this post immediately after I published it and thought I must be over-reacting. Then I came very close to deleting it. I realise now that I'm not over-reacting and he is, in fact, the ****wit I thought him to be.
And this would be happening with or without S in my life, but thank the Goddess that I have her to love me, and you all to keep me sane.
Just as a completely random aside, my word verification today is eggqinp. I found that amusing for some inexplicable reason.
A word of advice: LEAVE!
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