I had a bit of a discussion with That Canadian Boy I Married yesterday. I explained to him that when he kept putting off doing things or refused to help around the house, it did nothing to endear me to him and, in fact, made me resent him. Why I had to explain this to him is a mystery, but there you go, I did.
It’s not like he leaves his shoes in the living room for a day or two. He leaves stuff everywhere. He left his rather expensive golf clubs and golf bag (which held his wedding ring, another very, very sore spot) in the yard for two months. I would ask/nag/yell about once a week for him to get them into the cellar or the shed or someplace out of the rain. Finally, on Thursday, I told him that if they weren’t moved by Friday, I was listing them on Craigslist. They were put away that night. I shouldn’t have to threaten drastic measures in order to get simple things like that done, but that’s what it takes, almost every time.
Stuff like this happens all the time. All. The. Time. It’s maddening and I find it very selfish and thoughtless. There’s also the matter of him not doing anything around the house on the weekends, which is when I work the most hours. It pisses me off no end to come home after work to find that the sofa holds a permanent impression of his ass, that nothing has been picked up and no dishes have been washed. Last night, when I came in after working 9 hours, he smiled and said “Welcome to the disaster zone.” And then he fell asleep on the couch. He may as well have slapped me across the face as I walked in the door.
The kitchen was a mess – O had made cookies and not cleaned up. TCBIM had made dinner and not cleaned up. There was ketchup all over the kitchen table and when I moved a picture I had left on the table, water had been spilled, gotten underneath it and left a huge white mark on the table. Not to mention, damaged the picture.
Should I have left the picture on the table? No, I shouldn’t have. I had done grocery shopping in the morning, though, and was cleaning out the hutch and before I knew it, I had to get to work. So I left it, telling TCBIM that I would clean it up when I got home. To me, it would have been common sense to move the picture when the girls were eating – they’re toddlers, they’re messy. And if they’d spilled something, he should have wiped it up.
Instead, all of this stuff just gets left for me to do. And it’s infuriating. I work about 25 – 30 hours a week and I take care of the kids. I do all the laundry, I do the majority of the cooking and cleaning and it’s pissing me off that when he is home, he just sits on the couch watching football. He doesn’t interact with the kids that much, except to feed them. He didn’t even give them a bath last night.
Today, instead of hanging out with the girls, who all have the day off, I’ll be cleaning up the mess. O will be cleaning the kitchen, since she made the mess in there, but I’m going to have to clean up the living room and dining room because I can’t live with this level of mess. It’s gross.
When I try to explain how all of this makes me feel, he doesn’t get it. He says he doesn’t mean to make me feel bad, that he doesn’t want me to resent him, but I do. So I spend my time on the computer because I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to be nice to him when he can’t be bothered to treat me with any kind of respect. He just says that he doesn’t see a problem, that he doesn’t mean for his actions (or lack thereof) to make me feel the way I feel and that seems to be it. If he doesn’t have a problem, then there is no problem.
This is an ongoing thing with us and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve talked to my therapist about it and she says to talk to him, to tell him how I feel, but it’s not doing anything. I feel like I’m beating my head against a wall and it’s wearing me out. His complete obliviousness has me confused and sad.
I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.