Its only 10:35 am and as I sip on the last bit of my bitter coffee, I can't help but wonder if I have an opened bottle of wine in the wine chest. I have been on an emotional roller coaster, and although there are times I feel like I should sit at this dusty old computer and just blog about it, since it does help make me feel better, there are just too many emotions that I can't sit still long enough to get the whole story in. Another sip of coffee which is now cold, and I am still just sitting here staring at these blank words I type up as I feel them.
Remembered my weekend as if it was yesterday. We are eating breakfast after church. He asks me, have you been doing your workouts? No, I haven't. You made me cancel my gym membership. I suck at keeping myself accountable. Yes I know I have gained weight. Yes I am eating a giant chicken fried steak right now for breakfast. I feel like an overweight pig. Must you keep bringing it up? This isn't the first or the second time in the last few weeks he has brought this up to me. Is this his way of saying, "wife you are fat, and need to do something about it?" He knows I struggle with my weight and self image on a constant basis, so I hope this isn't his way of approaching it. If so, he sucks at it.
I am feeling unwanted in the wife department and under appreciated. A few days back we drove the back roads to my parents' house so that we could dig up trees. It wasn't our plan, but it happened that way. Which meant that we would need to get home as soon as possible so we could plant then I'm the ground immediately. I could already tell that it shifted husbands plans to come home and work out to the back of his to do list, and so he was pissy about that. "Lets not stay forever, okay?" Okay I told him. No big deal. As we were at my moms house he starts to talk about how he has plans to come home and mop the floors. "They are disgusting and haven't been done since we have moved in." I can't recall that they have, but just over this last day or so, I have noticed that they needed done. I gave kids chores to clean up and sweep so that they could help prepare for the floors to be mopped and baseboards cleaned. In the midst of all this, it was also fair time, and so our days off together I had planned day trip to the State Fair. So the floor cleaning kinda got shoved back a day or so. So what?! This is all going through my mind as he is continuing to tell my mom that he needs to get home to get it done because < I > haven't done it. Well this makes me feel like I am a worthless piece of fucking shit. I am at the bottom of a toilet bowl right now, as my husband it rambling on to my mom about this. Like I am incompetent of cleaning the floors.
Now if only this meant nothing to me. But as I write this I am forcing the tears back. Of course I am, I am always an emotional fuckwad and have the hardest time holding back my feelings. The only difference is, I used to discuss these feelings with my husband, but there is no reason for that anymore. He will either just laugh or make me feel like I have a serious problem being too emotional. The ride home, I just ignore the fact that he is even there, because he has made me feel so small, and talking to him right now is not something I look forward to do doing.
We get home, dig holes, plant trees, water trees, all in enough time for him to do his workout. I go inside and shower. By the time I am done showering he is finishing up his workout. I hear him come up the stairs, and I can hear him let out a loud aggravated sigh. Probably because the vacuum was still in the living room with the cord laying on the floor, where he had left it before we left to church this morning. He grabbs the vaccuum and starts vacuuming. I don't feel bad because my husband is vacuuming, its the only cleaning chore he ever does, and he only does it like once a month. So great, he is going to finish vacuuming. I head into the kitchen and decide that my daughter will need to resweep the kitchen before I can mop it. Its not a regular mop its a steam cleaner so it requires me mixing up some goods to put in the steamer to make it shiny and disinfected. In the middle of thinking of all this, I need to whip something up for dinner because everyone will be hungry now that it is evening. The husband yells at me "will you help me move these couches?" He always yells to me to help move the couches when he is vacuuming. He refuses to move any thing unless I am there to help him. And if he has to do it all alone, let us never forget. I am super thankful that he vacuums. It takes a huge load off of mine and the kids' chores around the house. The three of us, split them up evenly based on my work and their school schedule.
He finishes vacuuming and goes into the bathroom, I think he is going to really mop or wipe up the baseboards. This time its late, I have chips spread across a cookie sheet, I think I will make nachos. I am putting the furniture back in the office and living room that he has left into the middle of the room from vacuuming. He comes at me with a broom and dustpan and forces into my hands. He says ignorantly "Will you come in here and help me?" I told him I will mop the floors later for him to take a shower and we will eat dinner. His words stink like a hot poker " we both know that will never happen" Implying that I will never mop. Again, his words make me feel so small.
First he makes me feel like a worthless wife in front of my mom. Then he continues to ask me if I am working out, or why am I not doing my workouts (which happens to be a conversation every time we eat) and now he is implying that I never do any housework, including mopping.
Why do I have to feel like this? These are just all communication mishaps that can be addressed. I can't approach him with any of this because he laughs at me when I discuss how things make me feel. I wonder if he likes to make me feel small. Does he think I'm too fat, and shouldn't be eating the dinner I cook for our family. Do I not clean enough. This house is huge, I am constantly doing something to make it more of a home. Does he think the dishes do themselves? Does the lawn magically mow itself. The dust on the furninture, dressers, cupboards does it dissovle on its own? Dinner doesn't just magically cook itself. these are things that make me want to just yell out to him. But instead. I hide it. I bury it deep. I try not to let it affect me.
I throw the nachos in the oven. I move all the furniture out of the kitchen. I steam mop the floor to perfection.
He showers and comes out.
"Look, your fat, lazy, wife is mopping the floor." I say with tears running down my face. I can't hold back. He doesn't say a word.
Dinner is done. We eat in silence. I go to bed and read.
Even 2 days later, I was hoping it would all just be something that I deal with and forget about. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day at work. it was a 14 hour work day, i am on my feet all day long. I am at a job that requires 100% focus. I breathe through it. I eat a salad for lunch. Im starving when I get home. There is no dinner made for me, everyone already ate. That's okay. I shouldn't eat anyway. I drink a beer instead. I sit on couch, try to push off the day that I had just endured at work. Breathe. Husband makes small talk about show we are watching about Johnny Cash. I kiss little girl sleep before bed. Talk to teenage boy about school. I go to bed, and pass out before the news can even come on.
Today. Well today is a day off, and here it is only 11:01 in the morning, and I think I will pass on breakfast or lunch. Stick to my really cold coffee, and check on that wine I brought up earlier in this blog.
Remembered my weekend as if it was yesterday. We are eating breakfast after church. He asks me, have you been doing your workouts? No, I haven't. You made me cancel my gym membership. I suck at keeping myself accountable. Yes I know I have gained weight. Yes I am eating a giant chicken fried steak right now for breakfast. I feel like an overweight pig. Must you keep bringing it up? This isn't the first or the second time in the last few weeks he has brought this up to me. Is this his way of saying, "wife you are fat, and need to do something about it?" He knows I struggle with my weight and self image on a constant basis, so I hope this isn't his way of approaching it. If so, he sucks at it.
I am feeling unwanted in the wife department and under appreciated. A few days back we drove the back roads to my parents' house so that we could dig up trees. It wasn't our plan, but it happened that way. Which meant that we would need to get home as soon as possible so we could plant then I'm the ground immediately. I could already tell that it shifted husbands plans to come home and work out to the back of his to do list, and so he was pissy about that. "Lets not stay forever, okay?" Okay I told him. No big deal. As we were at my moms house he starts to talk about how he has plans to come home and mop the floors. "They are disgusting and haven't been done since we have moved in." I can't recall that they have, but just over this last day or so, I have noticed that they needed done. I gave kids chores to clean up and sweep so that they could help prepare for the floors to be mopped and baseboards cleaned. In the midst of all this, it was also fair time, and so our days off together I had planned day trip to the State Fair. So the floor cleaning kinda got shoved back a day or so. So what?! This is all going through my mind as he is continuing to tell my mom that he needs to get home to get it done because < I > haven't done it. Well this makes me feel like I am a worthless piece of fucking shit. I am at the bottom of a toilet bowl right now, as my husband it rambling on to my mom about this. Like I am incompetent of cleaning the floors.
Now if only this meant nothing to me. But as I write this I am forcing the tears back. Of course I am, I am always an emotional fuckwad and have the hardest time holding back my feelings. The only difference is, I used to discuss these feelings with my husband, but there is no reason for that anymore. He will either just laugh or make me feel like I have a serious problem being too emotional. The ride home, I just ignore the fact that he is even there, because he has made me feel so small, and talking to him right now is not something I look forward to do doing.
We get home, dig holes, plant trees, water trees, all in enough time for him to do his workout. I go inside and shower. By the time I am done showering he is finishing up his workout. I hear him come up the stairs, and I can hear him let out a loud aggravated sigh. Probably because the vacuum was still in the living room with the cord laying on the floor, where he had left it before we left to church this morning. He grabbs the vaccuum and starts vacuuming. I don't feel bad because my husband is vacuuming, its the only cleaning chore he ever does, and he only does it like once a month. So great, he is going to finish vacuuming. I head into the kitchen and decide that my daughter will need to resweep the kitchen before I can mop it. Its not a regular mop its a steam cleaner so it requires me mixing up some goods to put in the steamer to make it shiny and disinfected. In the middle of thinking of all this, I need to whip something up for dinner because everyone will be hungry now that it is evening. The husband yells at me "will you help me move these couches?" He always yells to me to help move the couches when he is vacuuming. He refuses to move any thing unless I am there to help him. And if he has to do it all alone, let us never forget. I am super thankful that he vacuums. It takes a huge load off of mine and the kids' chores around the house. The three of us, split them up evenly based on my work and their school schedule.
He finishes vacuuming and goes into the bathroom, I think he is going to really mop or wipe up the baseboards. This time its late, I have chips spread across a cookie sheet, I think I will make nachos. I am putting the furniture back in the office and living room that he has left into the middle of the room from vacuuming. He comes at me with a broom and dustpan and forces into my hands. He says ignorantly "Will you come in here and help me?" I told him I will mop the floors later for him to take a shower and we will eat dinner. His words stink like a hot poker " we both know that will never happen" Implying that I will never mop. Again, his words make me feel so small.
First he makes me feel like a worthless wife in front of my mom. Then he continues to ask me if I am working out, or why am I not doing my workouts (which happens to be a conversation every time we eat) and now he is implying that I never do any housework, including mopping.
Why do I have to feel like this? These are just all communication mishaps that can be addressed. I can't approach him with any of this because he laughs at me when I discuss how things make me feel. I wonder if he likes to make me feel small. Does he think I'm too fat, and shouldn't be eating the dinner I cook for our family. Do I not clean enough. This house is huge, I am constantly doing something to make it more of a home. Does he think the dishes do themselves? Does the lawn magically mow itself. The dust on the furninture, dressers, cupboards does it dissovle on its own? Dinner doesn't just magically cook itself. these are things that make me want to just yell out to him. But instead. I hide it. I bury it deep. I try not to let it affect me.
I throw the nachos in the oven. I move all the furniture out of the kitchen. I steam mop the floor to perfection.
He showers and comes out.
"Look, your fat, lazy, wife is mopping the floor." I say with tears running down my face. I can't hold back. He doesn't say a word.
Dinner is done. We eat in silence. I go to bed and read.
Even 2 days later, I was hoping it would all just be something that I deal with and forget about. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day at work. it was a 14 hour work day, i am on my feet all day long. I am at a job that requires 100% focus. I breathe through it. I eat a salad for lunch. Im starving when I get home. There is no dinner made for me, everyone already ate. That's okay. I shouldn't eat anyway. I drink a beer instead. I sit on couch, try to push off the day that I had just endured at work. Breathe. Husband makes small talk about show we are watching about Johnny Cash. I kiss little girl sleep before bed. Talk to teenage boy about school. I go to bed, and pass out before the news can even come on.
Today. Well today is a day off, and here it is only 11:01 in the morning, and I think I will pass on breakfast or lunch. Stick to my really cold coffee, and check on that wine I brought up earlier in this blog.