There are times.... sometimes...... that I suppress. Times that I blog, when I'm really angry, and suppress every bad thought as to not seem negative. Times that I "facebook" when my frustration levels have scored a gazillion on the scale, and I put something nonchalant about what it may be that is bothering me.
In writing- I find that I am most successful in expressing myself, with out sounding angry. It comes out much nicer in the form of a letter than it does coming out of my mouth.
Tonight- however, I feel the need to be blatantly forward. Not for anyone other than myself. I need to be able to refer back to this day- so I can (hopefully) remember how "hard it use to be" and find gratitude that it's not anymore
There has been 'something' in our home; I couldn't tell you exactly what- but whatever it is that's going on- it's breaking me down. Tearing apart my relationship with my daughters, and with my husband. It's not 'just me', either. It's 'something else'. Satan? His retarded little demons? Something!
Passive aggression creates harsh aggression. My husband? He's super passively aggressive. He may not realize it- but he IS. And because I can see clearly through the falsehood, I become a fist full of fury when he DENIES it!! OH! I can't stand it.
(Anyone out there reading this that hears from their spouse, friend, relative, or second cousin twice removed that you're 'passive aggressive', you need to TAKE. NOTE. Try to fix it. And make it snappy. Because if you're being called out on it- it's being realized, and your aiding the person dealing with 'you' in their outward aggression.)
My primary 'love language' is "Acts of Service". This being said- if my husband neglects his responsibilities, I feel like I'm unimportant to him. When I find myself picking up the random sock lying in the middle of the floor after he's kicked it out of his way....or throwing away the diaper he's just changed, blowing leaves, checking the air pressure in my tire, taking out the garbage, getting a phone call from the power company that our power will be turned off because our bill wasn't paid, etc. etc. etc.... when THAT happens- and I've got to pick up the slack- ON TOP of my massive load...... ya.... I feel extremely unloved.
I wish my love language was 'touch'- then I'd feel like the most LOVED woman on the planet. He wants to hug me, and kiss me, and 'loooove' on me all. of. the. time!! But? That's not MY love language. That's his. It doesn't work for me when he hugs me right AFTER he dumps crud all over our floor and neglects to pick it up.
When I get to witness my husband enjoying the sweet childhood of our children, while I wipe the sweat from my brow as I toss another load of laundry in, clip a few more coupons, sweep the floor and wipe the mess from the table..... I become bitter. Not because I have to take care of my responsibilities- but because I'm behind due to his lack of responsibility... and because most of the time- by the end of the day- I have to miss out on how incredible our kids really are due to the red-light flashing in my brain screaming 'over load, over load, over load'.
I bust my BOOtay day in and day out- cleaning, washing, cooking, educating, disciplining, and so on- all day, every day. I sacrifice my time in order to assure that my children are not chowing down on chicken nuggets and french fries, but that their consuming fresh, whole, all natural food. And I stress over curriculum and time frames in order to assure that our girls are not 'going through the public system' in order to achieve a decent level of education. In the middle of it all- I'm counseling and redirecting behavior. I'm reading and researching to try to figure out all of the 'how to's' on this whole "mommy thing" because my mom was never able to teach me how to do it.
And all of my efforts- I feel- are in vain. Because I SUCK at being a good mom. I'm so 'on edge'. Just overwhelmed. Exhausted. Burnt-Freaking-OUT!
I find myself shoveling the blame on my husband for my state-of-mind. " I would NOT be so consumed if he would spend a few- just a few- extra minutes doing 'his part'."
I have a friend- with one child- who's husband has said from the beginning "I work. You stay at home. It's not my job to clean." And that's THAT. The end. She 'does it all'; home school, housework, cooking.... Selfishly- I think to myself that it's a reasonable approach from her husband's point of view. She's got one child. It's one- against- one. I guess it makes more sense to me that way??? Should it, though?
Here I am struggling with emptied out Rice Krispy boxes all over our dining room floor, and blood-curdling screams from one or the other for some reason or other, while dishes pile up, and laundry refuses to walk itself into the washer/dryer and drawers and 'school' beckons me to begin.
I'm pulled into 3 different directions JUST from the basic care taking of our daughters. 3 different needs. 3 different stages of development. THREE!
I certainly was not blessed with the Jesus Christ Love and Patience that is required of a person raising a family with 3 amazing little girls and one hard-working man. And any patience I have acquired in these past 28 years gets sucked out of me so quickly that one would assume I'd not had any at all!
Sometimes- I just want my husband to pick up that DANG sock. And throw away that empty shampoo bottle and the poopy diaper laying on the dresser. No. Not sometimes. All. Of. The. Time. It's one less second I have to spend 'working' and not any amount of physical hardship on him.
Sometimes, he does a rocking job taking care of our home.... most of the time- he wakes up in the morning and unloads the dishwasher and takes out the garbage. Phew. Most of the time, this is a treasure to my day. Empty dishwasher. Empty trashcan. Most of the time- I am full of sincere gratitude that he takes care of these two things for me.
But! Sometimes- nuh-uh...NO!....sometimes..... it's not enough.
Sometimes, I need my van to get a good looking at to make sure it's not going to fall apart as I'm driving down the road. Sometimes I need the little things ( in much larger quantities.) Sometimes.
Sometimes I'm spent- and I need much more from this partner of mine. Sometimes, I need him to remove his hand from his back and stop patting it just because he 'chopped wood and went to work today'. YES. I'm thankful for that... I certainly am.
BUT! While he chopped a few pieces of wood- I was at Walmart with our 2 and 4 year old. At Walmart. In the ice and snow! Out in the cold dark with a funky sound coming from my tires and my engine.
With a medium sized Chick Fil A cup FULL of barf from the 4 year old who randomly got sick. With the 2 year old heavily snoozing. With a forgotten wallet in my van after finagling my way through the aisles trying to fit my groceries UNDER the cart and showing the whole store my butt crack from bending over and over and over plucking out my goods from the under carriage. With one buggy full of groceries, and the other packed with a (still) snoozing 2 year old, and an (all of the sudden) spiffy-loud-excited 4 year old, who just 25 minutes prior was screaming as though she was dying and throwing up (in afore mentioned Chick Fil A cup).
With having to go back OUT in the cold snow to retrieve my wallet, and having my phone ring to hear my husband ask "Can you get me some cereal? (I can't) Just go grab some for me real quick! (I gotta let you go.. I can't talk right now)
And then- coming home from the store- after already having a full hard core day of straight-up CLEANING to realize that the $#$*%@ baby powder that my 2 year old had emptied out the day before was STILL all over the foyer stairs. (One of 3 spots I missed.) The bathroom counters are still grossly full of JUNK, and my husband was on my heels "Do we have any clean bed linens anywhere- are there any clean towels???" More back patting from him "I emptied the dishwasher. And reloaded it. And paid the bills."
After the DAY I had- and after the EVENING I had endured- I couldn't see those dishes he put away. I could only see the powdered stairs. And the bathroom counters. And the 5 minutes that would have made all of those little things disappear.
Grocery bags I brought in from the cold wetness were on the table and the kitchen counter.... waiting for ME to empty them as my husband chowed down on the cereal I brought home (not his kind like he had requested while I was checking out) and I found myself snap-crackle and pop right along side that stupid cereal!
I was DONE! The wall came up. The attitude. The 'glazed over' look found it's way to my bitter angry eyes. The "Whatever" found its way to my lips. Whatever. Whatever. I don't care. What-EVER!
And that's where I'm at now- even after 47 minutes of Kari Jobe, Selah, and Fernando Ortega- I'm still mad. Just. MAD!
Frustrated that no matter what- I'm still going to be behind, he's still going to stake claim in his 'I do my part all of the time' and I'm going to feel unloved, under-appreciated, totally deflated, angry, lonely, and broken-hearted. I'm missing out. And I blame him.
I don't require a perfectly clean house- just the basics. I'm not OCD- maybe a little ADD, but I'm not ridiculously asking too much from my man. We have small kids. The work load is extreme. I should NOT have to take care of most of our life all by myself. I want him to do his part. Fix the hole in our wall. Change the oil. Clean the yard. Mow the grass. Put up shelves. Fix the floor. Pay the bills (on time). I really feel like if he'd JUST do his part- I'd not be so consumed.
Sometimes a person gets to vent out their woes and hangups on their blog. Sometimes- it feels better to just tell the world how TICKED off you are. This time?
What good did it do me?
Rereading it- I sound like an unthankful BITCH. What was it I said before? The written word (something or other) doesn't hide the truth.
What a day. What an unpredictable, all-together exhaustingly frustrating day.
***Please God- let tomorrow be so awesome that I'll want to blog about IT. Please give me some peace- and patience and self-control. Please give me more time to get it right where my kids are concerned. Please give me a supernatural endurance. Give me focus. Determination to NOT give up on my man, myself, or on You.
Thanks, Lord- for never giving up on me. I know I disappoint you. I know I hurt you. I know I infuriate you. Thanks for loving me anyway.
The Past Two Weeks
3 months ago