My husband is out of town, so the house is dark and quiet, and I’m alone. The girls are fast asleep in their beds. He travels often, usually only a night or two at a time, but week in and week out it starts to add up. He says he misses us, but I imagine it’s a nice break. Nobody to worry about but himself.
Sometimes he tries to say he understands what it’s like to be home with them 24/7 but as much as he thinks he understands, I don’t think he will ever truly be able to, to see just how much of me they need; they drain me, daily. Physically, mentally, emotionally. He thinks that just because I want to and choose to stay home with them, that somehow it makes raising them “easy”. Maybe because his part is easy. Because he leaves all the hard parts to me. Because he thinks that just because he doesn’t get as much time with them, that the time he does spend with them, he shouldn’t have to spend disciplining them.
Today I was that mom at Target. With the screaming toddler. I’d had a migraine for going on 12 hours, I had zero makeup on, my hair was definitely not brushed because it was still in the pony tail that I’d obviously slept in last night. I have no excuse for her behavior, it’s highly unlike her to act that way, but, she’s 2. So. I stopped and sat on the floor with her several times, holding her close and kissing her head and talking her through her frustrations, doing anything I could to calm her…want to know how many times my husband has been in that situation? zero. First of all because it’s rare that he is ever even out alone with them. And second of all, he would have just given her whatever she wanted just to make her happy and avoid having to say no or discipline her. So to ask him to understand what it’s like, is just, impossible.
And it’s like I’m not allowed to have hard days – because again, I choose to stay home. So how dare I express how defeated I feel at the end of the day. When it’s not like going to work everyday is a walk in the park either. He doesn’t have the luxury of getting to stay home like I do.
Sometimes he even apologizes for saying things like that. But it’s been said too many times. I think he expects more from me than I can give.
I’m supposed to be happy, no matter what, because, this is the life I chose. And he graciously gives to me.
There are so few things I own anymore, that are truly “mine”. Everything I have is because of him. And we both know it.