Just as I thought, I wasn't able to get through my entire to-do list yesterday. It's all I can do to get the essentials done--the dishes, the laundry, feeding the kids, making dinner... It didn't help my mood when my husband "informed" me that I need to do more to take care of the boxes I have in storage in our basement. I wanted to cry when he said that--and I also wanted to yell, but I didn't want to get the cold shoulder from him all weekend. I didn't say anything, but I hope he read my feelings in my silence.
If he wants me to be able to do things other than the essentials, he needs to help me by giving me the time. He needs to take care of the kids. He needs to make dinner and scrub the kitchen floor. It's getting so I feel guilty if I'm not doing something for the family or house twenty-four hours a day. I can feel his metaphorical eyes on me right now as I type this, sure that he's hearing the click of the keys and silently berating me for not being down in the basement, rummaging through dusty boxes. I feel like there's never time for me to relax, yet he can sit at the kitchen table as he is now, leisurely reading the newspaper as he eats bowl after bowl of cereal. It's okay for him to take time for himself, though. After all, he worked all week.