WARNING: not a nice post; includes foul language, resentment, mild depression, and a bit of rage...
My husband has found himself on my shit list again (unbeknownst to him course). When I got home from work yesterday...No, wait...before I even went to work yeterday, I spent my half of the day taking care of the baby, and I STILL managed to make breakfast for my 7 yr old, get bottles washed (a blog on that coming soon), make the day's formula made, pick up the living room, change baby's clothes, make a chef salad to take for lunch, and spent my normal hour or so getting showered, made up, dressed, etc. for work. When I left, my husband was taking the sheets off the bed to wash them (he does all the laundry), "yeah for him!" I thought. When I get home from work (at almost 6:00 pm), what do I find??? The sheets never made it past the washing machine, and my husband is sleeping on the living room floor next to the couch where our baby is sleeping. What the fuck?!

I ask him if it had been a rough afternoon with baby? If she had been fussy or fighting sleep? He says no, that everything has been fine. Mind you, this comes on a day where he hadn't even had to get up for the middle-of-the-night feeding - I did! So now, my husband reveals he's had a 2 1/2 HOUR NAP, there are no sheets on our bed (the pillowcases and comforter still have yet to be washed), and we're just a couple hours away from one daughter's bedtime...Don't even get me started on the homework projects our 7 yr. old is supposed to work on... In short, I'm pissed!!

I don't get fucking naps!! EVER!! There's too much shit that needs to get done. I resent the fact that he seems to use his time home with baby to do nothing but recover some sleep. I resent the fact that he waits until a weekday, late in the evening to start thinking about finishing the load of bedding he put in at noon! I resent the fact that he didn't even ask if he could fucking help with anything last night, especially considering my 7 yr. old was able to pick up on my frustration and ask if I was okay. This is not fucking rocket science - I can't do it all!! He was such a great help the first few weeks after the baby was born, but now I think it was only because I was having an obviously difficult bout with the baby blues. What happened to the considerate man I came home from the hosiptal with? I can't say anything to him right now because I can't say anything nice. I know I probably sound like a bitch, but I don't even have time to care about that image right now.... I thought I'd feel better after this blog, but I don't. As usual, the anger just turns to more tears (still a lot of those these days)...