Scenario: It’s my birthday tomorrow and so I wanted to have the house in good shape so that I could enjoy the day tomorrow. We didn’t have an afternoon together as I thought we were going to so I let the kids play while my husband mowed the grass (which I am very thankful for) I started working on the house and also helping outside to make sure there weren’t any obstacles in his way. It was around 6:30 and the kids were getting hungry. I didn’t have this meal planned into my meal plans so I didn’t have a home-cooked meal so I told him I was going to take the kids to get dinner.

All good. I get back about 7:50/8 and we all eat because we are hungry. Now the dishes need to be done, the floors need to be swept, laundry needs to be processed and the kids need to be put to bed. My husband ate in the recliner. I am sitting at the table already having anxiety about how I will talk to him about helping tackle these tasks as a team so we can move on to what we want for the evening.

He came into the kitchen and I said “Hey babe these are the things that need to be done” and he said okay, I’ll do the dishes (what he usually does in these instances is say he will do it…he won’t and then the next day I am left to do them…defeated…frustrated and feeling taken advantage of.) He started to get out the stuff to make the brownies and I said okay that means your going to have to do the dishes now. He didn’t make any acknowledgments to doing them and started harassing the kids with their juices (I am sure he sees it as playing and it was for a while).

I see no progress towards the tasks and it’s now 8:20pm. I am now frustrated and ready to just get these things done and resting (in the bath which is where I am now). I said “Okay, why don’t you just let me make the brownies and do the housework and you put the kids to bed”. He sort of agrees so I begin working on things around the kitchen. He then gets his money out of his wallet and starts counting it.

At this point, I am sick to my stomach and working away internally crying out to God and even crying quietly. He proceeds to put the kids to bed. I put my headphones on to get out of the house in my mind and listen to some workshop music.

Over the next 25-30 minutes; My son comes rushing to me several times crying for various reasons. I know there were times of laughter and having fun in our room because when my husband “gets into bedtime with the kids” he will play with them and throw them on the bed. They love it and I do too. Then my son will come out to me crying because he hit his head, our wedding picture fell off the wall, daddy said cry cry cry and I can’t understand him through the tears. I tell him that daddy is the boss and he needs to go and listen to daddy. Ultimately he puts them to bed and I finish cleaning as I wanted. All in all, I just don’t understand why it has to be like this.

My biggest struggle: Why can’t my husband be more willing to help with things at home? Why can’t he be the leader in the home?  I have a hard time separating the facts from my story. Perhaps because I am mad.