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A Letter to My Husband

Dear Husband,

If you wake up at 4:00 a.m. after I have just gone to bed after being up with our baby all night long, I’m going to at least pretend to be asleep. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to get up to make your coffee or your lunch. I want to sleep for 2 hours until my kids wake up.

Is that too much to ask?

Put on your Big Boy underpants and make yourself something to eat. Put it in your lunchbox. It’s not hard, dear, our 5 and 6 year olds do it. Sure, sometimes they want a peanut butter-roast beef-honey sandwich, but that’s beside the point.

You don’t stay up for 30 hours at a time. Sure, you’re tired also. You work 8-12 hours a day, I get that. Let me run down the day for you.

4:00-you wake up.
5:00-you go to work
2:00-you come home and sit on the couch to relax.
7:00-the kids go to bed, you watch a movie or surf the web.
8:30-you go to bed.

I know your life sucks. I know it is so damn hard to operate on 8 hours of sleep a day. Poor. Pitiful. You.

You know what? I don’t do jack shit, you’re right about that.

4:00-I wake up, cycle laundry, make your lunch, do any dishes that need to be done, make your coffee, prepare your coffee, pick up the house.
5:00-you go to work and I sit down with a glass of water and watch the news or turn on Jump Start. I should be exercising, but I don’t.
6:00-the kids are wide awake. I’m cycling laundry, getting them dressed, making lunches, cooking breakfast, finding missing shoes, changing diapers, feeding the baby, feeding the cat, and doing dishes as they dirty.
7:00-I’m making sure all homework is completed, all school papers are in order.
8:00-I’m forcing the kids to get back packs and coats on for school. I’m getting the stroller, my cup of tea, and finding my keys so we can walk to the bus stop.
8:15-We are at the bus stop. I’m playing referee with the kids because our oldest is a poor sport and a sore loser.
8:35-Bus comes, usually right as I’m about to have a panic attack from all the kids acting like heathens.
8:45-I’m feeding the baby and forcing some sort of good down my own throat.
9:00-Play time. Our daughter is mobile and we don’t have baby gates. This means she requires more supervision than ever before.
9:30-Nap time. Our daughter has been I’m a frenzy for 4 hours at least, and is tired. if she refuses her crib, I put her in her play pen.
10:What’s left of morning dishes.
10:20-Laundry (window drapes, white cycles, or bedspreads)
10:30-Nap time is over. Time to occupy the baby so I can get something done.
10:40-Clean the bathrooms. You and I are insane about bathroom germs, so this takes a long time.
11:45/12:00-Llunch time.
12:30-Finish laundry/fold, while I entertain the baby.
1:00-Sweep/vacuum, usually put baby in play pen with a sippy cup and lots of toys at this point.
1:30-Kitchen counters, stove, oven. It’s also snack time, so I get that going first so I can clean the kitchen somewhat in peace.
2:00-Play time. Crawling, standing, playing, stories, and other developmental things.
2:45/3:00-You come home and require my presence for no reason. I’m still the one caring for the baby. Usually I sit by you and knit.
4:00-Start dinner.
4:30-Go to bus stop.
5:00-Home from bus stop with kids. Get them to do their homework while I finish dinner.
5:30/6:00-Dinner is ready.
6:00-While you eat a hot dinner, I’m feeding the baby, which is a job in itself now that she blows nasty food bubbles, sprays food at me, grabs the spoon, etc.
7:00-At this point I usually give the baby a cracker so I can eat cold food while you watch football/sportscenter.
7:15-Bath time for baby.
7:30-Baby to bed, kids in showers.
8:00-Bed time for kids.
9:00-Clean kitchen
9:45-Clean dining room
10:00-You’re up in bed. I’m doing bills, checking on the bank account, etc.
11:00-Baby usually wakes up.
11:30-I take a few minutes to myself. I usually sit in the quiet house and knit or crochet.
12:00-I go to bed. By now I’ve already caught a second wind, so my body doesn’t want to sleep. I usually lay in bed and bore myself with Facebook or android app games.
1:00-Finally fall asleep.
2:00-Baby wakes up.
2:30-Back to bed.
2:45-Finally tired again.
And an hour later I’m back up for the day.

I know, dear. You work too hard and don’t sleep enough. Guess what? I don’t give a flying fuck. I’m tired too. So if I’m sleeping at 4:30 am on a Saturday morning and you have the nerve to call me lazy, you’re damn right I’m going to stay in bed. I’m also going to text you things like “your lunch meat keeps freezing in the meat drawer, that’s why it’s on the shelf instead” and “[For the five millionth time,] your email password is [insert here].”

The house is always sparkling clean when the kids walk up to the door. Once they fly inside, it’s another story. I cannot take responsibility for what happens next. Leaves get treked through the house, crumbs end up on the living room rug when I swear they were truly eating snack at the dining table. The baby inevitably pukes everywhere on the rug right before you walk in, everyday. (I think that’s how she says ‘Hello’ to you.) Our routine is simple, it works. However, you seem to only take care to survey the house as soon as I’ve finished cooking dinner, making a cake, and emptied the fridge of its unknown contents and have a heaping mess on the counter. You only pay attention to the bathroom after one of you boys pisses on the toilet seat. You only pay attention to the laundry when you have fifteen stark-white t-shirts in your drawers instead of 18. You are finnickey, unreasonable, and sometimes I hate you. But I love you all the same.

Just start paying some God-damn attention and you’ll realize I’m the furthest thing from lazy that you’ve ever met.

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