This is unrelated to my previous train of thought. But I need to vent. And this is the perfect outlet.

My husband leaves to do lawncare before I wake up. He gets home in time to have lunch and then shower and head to his “day job”. He works the day job until midnight, gets home and goes to bed.

On weekends he typically does lawncare most of the day. I see him for lunch and dinner typically. And we spend the evening watching shows on Netflix.

I get no time to myself. None. I can’t even check the mail without having to worry if my son is going to open the screen door and let my stupid ass puppy loose.

I shouldn’t complain. My husband works hard so that I can stay home and raise our child. But for fuck sake. A little bit of a break would be wonderful.

It’s almost 1 am and this is literally the only time I have had for myself today. My son just laid down for bed with my husband. Just before my husband got home my son made a big ass mess. Candy all over the kitchen. My husband walked right by it, completely ignored it and wandered off to bed.

I can’t even get a little help. And yet somehow he wonders why I am so stressed. So irritable. So on edge. And never in the mood to put out. Why the fuck would I want to please him when he can’t even help me a little?

Want to know how I spent Mother’s Day? I went to see my family, with my son, my husband stayed home so he could work – supposedly. When I finally got home the house stunk so bad like rotten garbage. I asked why he left the trash can full all weekend, with left over food and dirty diapers in it. His response? You were the last one to throw something away.

I had to drive to the Chinese place to get my “special dinner”. And when I got home I was lucky enough to eat and then clean up the mess. Just a fantastic day.

He couldn’t even be bothered to help bathe our son. And when I asked him to grab some pajamas? He complained that he had just got comfortable on the couch.

Sometimes I think that I would rather be single. It seems as tough it might be a little easier.


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