Snappity Snap Snap

I am starting to dislike holidays.

This past weekend was Thanksgiving here in Canada. 
I was perfectly happy to not spend a small fortune on turkey, ham and all the fixin's. 
Perfectly happy not working my hole out for an entire day.
Perfectly happy not being invaded by family members with whom I am currently rather salty.

Alas, ass invasion occurred from a number of fronts, and I caved to please the majority.

This is how I came to host dinner this year. It's also how I realized my husband is 'managing' me with a recurring tendency I have grown to dislike, a great deal, in recent years.

I have to say that I am bloody tired of this passive aggressive, manipulative, bullshittery. Like really good and tired of it, in fact. By and large, with the exception of the odd blue job that crops up (like... um ... fixing the car? Carrying heavy things?) there really aren't very damned many household jobs that I don't do, almost exclusively. I don't mow or shovel, but that is because of my back. Otherwise, I imagine I would do that also.

You know what? 98% of the time, I'm more than happy to do it with a smile in my heart, and STILL show up for date night; clean, shaven, make up and hair-did, with every intention of playing sex kitten later on.

For real.

Not saying I do not have other maddening qualities, I sure as hell do, but in this regard, I'm easy like Sunday morning... until I'm not.

Today, I am not easy like Sunday morning... nuh uh... today, I'm bitchy like Wednesday afternoon.

Here's my beef:
If you are self aware enough to know you are not contributing at anywhere nearly the same level as your partner... and you sense that she is getting annoyed because you clearly are also a part of the problem... why in the name of all that is good and holy, would you poke her in the eye, by pointing out the fact that you do nothing?!

Why Bambi?

Lemme tell you why:
Because: I will still do the work, just like always. I will still show up - clean, pretty and furless - just like always... and I will choose peace over conflict, just like always.
That means that Hubs gets a pass... and, he even gets credit for being so sensitive and self aware!
This is his "M/O"... and it drives me batty.

If he really wanted to do something for me, he would do it. He would either do things around the house on his own, (rather than forcing me to be the mommy that doles out the chores) or, you would do something special - just for me.
Take me out!
Plan an evening... or better yet, a weekend. I'll go. I promise.
Don't just lament to me the fact that you haven't done any of these things. I really don't want to hear it!

I have two kids.
Not three.
Plus the two to whom I gave birth, are just a tad on the intolerable side, this past month or so. Hubs does not understand how entirely exhausting it is, being the only set of ears in the house that anybody wants to make noise in!

I'd like to be a partner more often than mother, now that the kids are so self sufficient. I'm not enjoying myself socially at all. Not that some of that isn't my fault, I have a tendency toward a hermit's life, without coaxing. There is simply no reasonable explanation why a grown-ass man would sit in front of his wife - while she cleaned and cooked a turkey and ham dinner, for eight, by herself - actively adding to the mess, and then proceed to list all the things he was failing to do for the love of his life!

Unless he is suicidal.

Nobody is that stupid.

Stupid, like a Gemini. Fucking Gemini. I do not enjoy this behavior. I know we get along well, and we work well together. We do. I know we are in the realm of the lucky... but this makes me absolutely wild!

Yesterday, I snapped.
It was quiet.
I snapped quietly.
I don't know how many people even noticed... but I know my husband did.
I stayed quiet.
Said I wasn't feeling well...  No lie, I wasn't.

My infection appears to be antibiotic resistant. I'm still experiencing pain, and blood. I have to go back to the doctor for an exam tomorrow - that rather sucks. I imagine I will come away with stronger drugs... my liver and kidneys can scarcely contain themselves.

Guess it is as good an excuse as any for my lower humour. I'm hoping my 'issue' is an easy fix, but for the immediate future, it is a good cover story.

I know we have to have this conversation... again.

I'm just tired of saying it.

I'm tired of nothing changing.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

From One Mother, to Another

WIMTS

This is dedicated to the one(s) I love .... (gotta sing it)