Marveling at my diagonally-cut stir fry vegetables for dinner, I waltz into the living room singing my offer of a carrot to my toddler, who I discover is napping on the futon next to Gym Hottie at 6:30 in the evening. I give my son’s futon companion so much side-eye. Can you guess the parent, who skipped the oh so sacred toddler nap? Hint: it’s not the shitty wife. Now that Father’s Day is over, my dear husband is not exempt from leaving the toothbrush on the counter and I won’t un-excuse his poor call to take Humnoy out for an errand during his daily scheduled nap time. Sorry, bro but you fucked up today. I don’t give into the myth of mom weekends so I honestly believe my husband should just work 7 days a week because he makes co-parenting so much harder on his days off. Solo parenting is a breeze compared actually tag-teaming during those days.
He fucks up nap When he’s in the same room with us, the kids refuse to nap. The kids love his presence that much (I don’t know either). He’s the jungle gym and the kids think it’s play time when he’s within ear shot. Humnoy has to be behind closed doors with his dad on the other side to even think of taking a nap. NAPS ARE SACRED; GET THE FUCK OUT.
He makes me a naggy wife Just add “nag” to my list of shitty wife accomplishments. Okay, well I wouldn’t nag if he just did it the first time I asked.
Me: Hey, babe, maybe you and [Hum] can fold that basket of clothes while I [slave away at this hot stove making us an elaborate family breakfast. I would surely appreciate the help].
GH: uh, oh yeah. I’m busy at the moment; I’ll get to it.
Above is an extremely modified version of actual events but him not “getting to it” is very true to life. Six hours later, I take the kids for our daily walk to get mail and I have to nag again….
Kids turn into gremlins Humnoy acts a crazy fool when his dad is home. He gets so pumped up and screeches and jumps and hoots n’ hollers and is just nuts about his father. This behavior then dominoes to his baby sister and it’s like Jurassic Park soundtrack up in here. When it’s just me, he just whines and throws things at me when he’s not pawing at my boobs. Same for the little one too.
I turn into a gremlin For some reason, I feel like I get a pass to get angry with the little brats but lord help him when GH gets mad with my babies. Maybe it’s because I’m with them all day and I’ve reached my breaking point at 72 hours of back-to-back late bed times and he reaches his in the 29 minutes he’s been home? I understand he’s tired and been on his feet all day working really hard. Not to toot my own horn but I have been too. So, when he lashes out, I lash out at him, and it’s just a shit show. He soon wishes he was at work as do I.
Days off is such a funny concept because I don’t know what it is. When co-parenting is harder than when I’m solo parenting, it makes me wonder what we are doing wrong. Are we so touched out as parents to two little kids that we are resentful during days where we can be a family? As hard as balls as co-parenting is, we laugh so hard with the kids in bed that I just melt and so does my stubborn pride when I think I’m better off without their father. After all, he is the one who got me into this crazy, beautiful, hectic circus of a mess but I wouldn’t have it any other way nor any other co-parent.