The DH and I are trying to get over a tiny bump in the road at the moment. At least I think we are. He’s so clueless I’m sure he hasn’t thought twice about how frustrated I am with everything at the moment. It happens every so often though. We’ll have a patch where we just cannot stop fighting. Maybe it’s just us, but I suspect that this is marriage. Maybe not all marriages, but definitely ours.
The whole flyer business just fucks me off beyond belief. Next time I need something done I’m not going to be cheap about it, I’m just going to ask a professional. I should have done so right from the start. Thank goodness he finally sent off the copy this morning. The flyers should arrive on the 28th, so plenty of time for my show on the 31st, but still he was so slow about getting them done, and so petty when I wanted to give my opinion about something. It’s MY bloody belly dance school for christ’s fucking sake! If I had just gone to a professional I could have told them what *I* wanted and given them *my* opinion on whatever I wanted. You live, you learn. Done.
Then today I’m waiting around to take a shower this morning for him to watch Sara. He says he’ll do it after he sends off the copy. Fine. It takes him 10 bloody years to do this! Why? I don’t know. Because it takes him 10 bloody years to do freaking everything! It was because he had done something funky to the file and couldn’t get it to open. Of course he’s too proud to say anything to me and just continues to putter around FOREVER on his own, so when I went back to find out what the hell he was doing, and fixed the problem in 2 minutes, he was less than impressed. (*I* was less than impressed!) And he starts muttering about his horrible headache. (I’ll give you a horrible headache!) I asked him to feed Sara while I was in the shower, and he starts in with “you didn’t feed her yet?!” I fed her breakfast, and gave her boobies at least twice since breakfast, and I feed her every other freaking meal during the week! I think on weekends, he can feed her lunch while I am in the shower since the reason I am taking a shower at lunchtime is because he was fucking around on the computer forever! So I just yelled back as I was getting in the shower, “She’s your daughter too! Take some responsibility!” Then I turned my ears and brain off because I was getting close to grabbing a heavy object and charging back into the living room.
We finally get out of the house and actually have a rather lovely afternoon. We went to his parents house to pick something up and took their dog for a walk. That was nice. Did a little shopping and then go to drop off the presents I brought back from America for his friends who had twins back in April. Sara had just fallen asleep in the car after a short tantrum in her carseat, and we were just going to drop off the presents as Akinori had more stuff he wanted to get done. Not going in the house or anything so when Akinori asked if we should wake Sara up, I told him definitely not.
A: “But she’ll go right back to sleep.”
Me:”Not without a lot of tears, and I don’t want to go through that again, and I don’t want to put her through that. It’s not fair. She’s tired and wants to sleep. How do you feel when I wake you up?”
I don’t know about you, but I hate it when my daughter cries, for a variety of reasons, but mostly it makes me sad to see her sad. If I can prevent her from being sad, then I would like to do so, within reason anyway. I have no intention of spoiling her and buying out Toys’R Us to please her, or anything like that. But not waking her from a much needed nap? I think that’s the least I can do.
So the husband comes out and gets the presents and says to wait a minute, he’ll be right back. So he comes out with his wife and one of the twins, the other one is SLEEPING! So Akinori decides we should wake Sara up after all and pulls her out of the car. His friends are even telling him, “Oh don’t do that. The poor thing is sleeping so soundly.” Bastard! So Sara wakes up in a good mood and is all smiles and giggly, but she rarely wakes up in a bad mood, so I’m not surprised and still not convinced that she’ll go back to sleep without a fuss. Of course the moment we get back in the car the screaming starts up again, and doesn’t stop until we finally get out of the car. At least it stopped.
We made one more stop before going home, and Sara slept the whole way home in the car. It was already 9:30 by the time we got home, and she didn’t wake up when we brought her inside, which meant that she would have gone down for the night if we left her. Of course Mr. Smarty Pants decides that now that she’s asleep it’s the best time to grab a pair of tweezers and pull out the monster booger in her nose that she won’t let us get anywhere near. I begged him to leave her alone this time, and that I would deal with it tomorrow when she woke up. But no. My pleas fall on the deaf ears of Mr. Mom who knows best when it comes to raising children and especially his daughter.
Of course the moment he gets within an inch of her nose, she wakes up. And this time she’s full of energy. Crawling and shrieking and chasing the cat and happy to be awake and alive. Great! Is Dr. Spock planning on taking responsibility for his actions? Don’t be silly! He lays down on the floor and makes a half-assed attempt at getting Sara to lay down with him before he FALLS ASLEEP! I’m beyond pissed off now, and leave Sara to crawl all over her dead-to-the-world father while I go and change into my pajamas and warm up the bedroom so we can go to sleep for real. I come back downstairs to find her sitting practically on top of his head surrounded in bum wipes. SURROUNDED! Granted I stupidly left them within her reach, but did he not feel the cold wetness on his arms? Because they were EVERYWHERE I tell you! So he wakes up to my shrieks of displeasure and is all in a muddle about what is going on. Figures it out, tells me it was my fault for leaving them where Sara could get to them because he’s sleeping and has no clue. Well, he’s right about the not having a clue part. I admit that it’s partially my fault, but surely we have passed the point where I need to accept blame for any goings-wrong much, much earlier in the day, because if we’re going to start attaching blame to all of the events of the day, let me tell you, the scales are not balanced at the end of this day.
So in light of the recent events, if I were to cause bodily harm to my husband, I can’t imagine there are many mothers out there who would actually convict me of any crime. Sooooo tempting!