more than I bargained for
Is it better to write everyday, even when one has so little to say? Or should I save up for a humdinger when something really exciting happens. By even contemplating this question, you know which one I favor. Lucky you.
So my dear husband M is going out for drinks with friends from work tonight. I have encouraged him to do this because that is what mature, understanding partners do. And he hasn't been out in months. He deserves a good time, I say. Yet, naturally, I harbor a wee acorn of resentment that I have not been able to go out with MY friends. At least not without G strapped to my chest. There is an imbalance that I have been loathe to mention because to acknowledge what is really going on makes me feel like I've let down feminism, my mother, and myself. Instead of sharing the work (and it is work, though joyous and amazing and blah blah blah) of caring for a baby 50/50, or even 75/25 (since he's at work earning the money that keeps us in kibble), we've developed a system where I really do almost everything baby and house related. Even when he's here. It is bizarre and unexpected (at least to me). I have become the scary housewife.
And since we're trying to be honest here, part of me is reluctant to take the bold steps needed to rectify the situation. I enjoy the baby's dependence on me. I am proud of feeding him, bathing him, putting him to bed. It's twisted but I'm unwilling to let M have the reins because he won't do it as well as I will. Eek. And instead of calling me out on this, he's let me go on with my illusions of control firmly intact. Utter shock at waking up and finding oneself in a 50's era sitcom. Without the laugh track.
So my dear husband M is going out for drinks with friends from work tonight. I have encouraged him to do this because that is what mature, understanding partners do. And he hasn't been out in months. He deserves a good time, I say. Yet, naturally, I harbor a wee acorn of resentment that I have not been able to go out with MY friends. At least not without G strapped to my chest. There is an imbalance that I have been loathe to mention because to acknowledge what is really going on makes me feel like I've let down feminism, my mother, and myself. Instead of sharing the work (and it is work, though joyous and amazing and blah blah blah) of caring for a baby 50/50, or even 75/25 (since he's at work earning the money that keeps us in kibble), we've developed a system where I really do almost everything baby and house related. Even when he's here. It is bizarre and unexpected (at least to me). I have become the scary housewife.
And since we're trying to be honest here, part of me is reluctant to take the bold steps needed to rectify the situation. I enjoy the baby's dependence on me. I am proud of feeding him, bathing him, putting him to bed. It's twisted but I'm unwilling to let M have the reins because he won't do it as well as I will. Eek. And instead of calling me out on this, he's let me go on with my illusions of control firmly intact. Utter shock at waking up and finding oneself in a 50's era sitcom. Without the laugh track.
posted by cmm at 11:20 AM
1 Comments:
I'll be your laugh track. You are fulfilling the "mommy archetype" right now, but that doesn't mean you will forever. Remember the "drunken college student archetype?" She didn't stick around very long, either. But she sure was fun. You are so much more than any of the roles you have played - and I SEE you. And you make me laugh. Do not despair, relax into this because before you know it your suckling baby will come home with a ring in his lip and a tatto on his forhead and that's when his father can have ALL the fun and you can run out to your art class/knitting group/book club/trip to Bhutan....
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