Take your grand gesture and...
shove it.
Mother's Day is upon us. As a new mother, I find myself simply annoyed by this Hallmark holiday. As a girl, I scoffed at my father's attitude toward Mother's Day; he refused to recognize it in our house, or to purchase gifts for my mother. When asked why, his response was simply, "She's not my mother."
Years later, I find myself married to a man who has the same outlook. To which my response is - no, I'm not your mother. I have no desire to be your mother. But sometimes, you want me to coddle you and baby you as THOUGH I were your mother. You simply should not be allowed to have it both ways. And let's not forget the fact that I run this household, and without me your life would be pitched into utter oblivion.
He knows I'm pissed the hell off. And as such, he wants to make amends. So he's begun asking me what I want for Mother's Day - harrumph.
What do I WANT, you ask? Let's see. I want to be able to sleep in. No. Scratch that. I want to go sleep in a Westin hotel overnight (they have the best beds...I think I may have mentioned that before). I want to order scads of room service, watch in-room movies (mostly chick flicks), get ten hours of sleep, then go have a peaceful breakfast while reading the paper. Then I'll come home.
I want DH to get up with the babies in the morning for a change - instead of nudging me when he hears the babies on the monitor and says, "Mommy, Baby D needs you..." I acknowledge the fact that he's the breadwinner and I, as the SAHM, should consider this my JOB. Fine. But would it KILL him to change the diapers and feed them so that I can sleep for an extra 20 minutes on a Sunday morning? Jeez.
I want to leave the house and go somewhere for my recreation only -- whether it be to Barnes & Noble, the park, or even the mall. I want to get in my car and go somewhere that's not tied into some errand I'm running.
The point I'm trying to make is: when he walks in the door on Friday night with a box of Godiva, I'll take it - oh yes I will - because I'll never turn my nose up at good chocolate. But I'll be sad as well, because we as people are really good when it comes to the "grand gesture", but not so good at the day-to-day.
I'll step off my soapbox now.
I'm just stressed out today. The babies had me up at 6:30 today, Baby S. was particularly needy today - I needed to be in her eyesight at all times or she went hysterical. Then Baby S.' swing broke - the motor is burned out, and there's no point in replacing it because the damn thing is going in the trash soon enough. Baby D. keeps trying to climb out of her swing, so I'm faced with the inevitable - the days of swings are rapidly ending (they should have ended already, so I count myself lucky that I've gotten this far), and my life is going to turn upside down as I adjust to my daughter's mobility. They lose patience with their Exersaucers as well. They want to be on the floor -- moving, rolling, kicking the shit out of each other. But in order for them to do that, I need to be watching them constantly. It's exhausting.
But in exchange for this new-found mobility, they're getting tired earlier. At least I can get them in bed by 8pm and then spend the rest of the night doing what I need to do.
They have lousy timing - I have too much to do this week, and not enough time to do it all. Sound familiar?
Mother's Day is upon us. As a new mother, I find myself simply annoyed by this Hallmark holiday. As a girl, I scoffed at my father's attitude toward Mother's Day; he refused to recognize it in our house, or to purchase gifts for my mother. When asked why, his response was simply, "She's not my mother."
Years later, I find myself married to a man who has the same outlook. To which my response is - no, I'm not your mother. I have no desire to be your mother. But sometimes, you want me to coddle you and baby you as THOUGH I were your mother. You simply should not be allowed to have it both ways. And let's not forget the fact that I run this household, and without me your life would be pitched into utter oblivion.
He knows I'm pissed the hell off. And as such, he wants to make amends. So he's begun asking me what I want for Mother's Day - harrumph.
What do I WANT, you ask? Let's see. I want to be able to sleep in. No. Scratch that. I want to go sleep in a Westin hotel overnight (they have the best beds...I think I may have mentioned that before). I want to order scads of room service, watch in-room movies (mostly chick flicks), get ten hours of sleep, then go have a peaceful breakfast while reading the paper. Then I'll come home.
I want DH to get up with the babies in the morning for a change - instead of nudging me when he hears the babies on the monitor and says, "Mommy, Baby D needs you..." I acknowledge the fact that he's the breadwinner and I, as the SAHM, should consider this my JOB. Fine. But would it KILL him to change the diapers and feed them so that I can sleep for an extra 20 minutes on a Sunday morning? Jeez.
I want to leave the house and go somewhere for my recreation only -- whether it be to Barnes & Noble, the park, or even the mall. I want to get in my car and go somewhere that's not tied into some errand I'm running.
The point I'm trying to make is: when he walks in the door on Friday night with a box of Godiva, I'll take it - oh yes I will - because I'll never turn my nose up at good chocolate. But I'll be sad as well, because we as people are really good when it comes to the "grand gesture", but not so good at the day-to-day.
I'll step off my soapbox now.
I'm just stressed out today. The babies had me up at 6:30 today, Baby S. was particularly needy today - I needed to be in her eyesight at all times or she went hysterical. Then Baby S.' swing broke - the motor is burned out, and there's no point in replacing it because the damn thing is going in the trash soon enough. Baby D. keeps trying to climb out of her swing, so I'm faced with the inevitable - the days of swings are rapidly ending (they should have ended already, so I count myself lucky that I've gotten this far), and my life is going to turn upside down as I adjust to my daughter's mobility. They lose patience with their Exersaucers as well. They want to be on the floor -- moving, rolling, kicking the shit out of each other. But in order for them to do that, I need to be watching them constantly. It's exhausting.
But in exchange for this new-found mobility, they're getting tired earlier. At least I can get them in bed by 8pm and then spend the rest of the night doing what I need to do.
They have lousy timing - I have too much to do this week, and not enough time to do it all. Sound familiar?
posted by scrappintwinmom @ 6:17 PM
2 Comments:
At 9:44 AM,
kenju said…
When my children were small, my fondest wish was to be given a whole weekend by myself in a good hotel, with room-service, and a good pool and hot tub. That was before they had spas, or I would have wanted that too.
At 4:01 PM,
Mel said…
My husband just told me about hearing what our salary *should* be. I think it was something like $40,000 was our regular salary, but the rest was all overtime. ha!
I'm sorry your husband has that attitude. :(
Happy Mother's Day!
Post a Comment
<< Home