Dear Beloved Husband,
It is Saturday morning.
I have been up for more than 2 hours now.
Your son has been up for more than an hour. And as usual, you are asleep.
I estimate you'll be sleeping for another hour, as you tend to do.
Since I've been up I've started our week's laundry, sorted the stuff that was left in the dryer, done all of the dishes, started the dishwasher and cleaned the bathroom.
I'm not sure how you are sleeping through all of this noise. But you seem to be able to.
When you wake up you will stumble grumpily downstairs, pour the coffee that is already made for you, and and complain to me that you didn't have a great sleep.
I get that.
I was awake about 8 times last night.
Not that you'll ask. You never do.
The thing is, I'm pretty sick of the way our weekends work.
I clean. I grocery shop. I wake up with Doodle and make sure he has breakfast and uses the potty. I feed the cats. I make whatever plans we have for the weekend. And, I generally ask you to do some task around the house for which you roll your eyes, mumble and may or may not accomplish.
The thing is, I'm tired of arguing about this.
Remember the last 17 times I asked you to clean the bathroom? I'm still waiting.
You know the half finished bedroom wall? Still waiting.
The half painted kitchen that you promised to finish? Still waiting.
You know the nursery that has to be emptied out, cleaned and painted? I've recruited help for that one because you don't seem interested.
This is getting ridiculous.
I would love to wake up on Saturday morning and find a clean house. Just like you do.
I would love to go to the basement and see there's no laundry to do.
I'd love to go to the washroom and not see a dirty toilet.
And barring all of that, I would love it if just one Saturday morning you set your alarm for a decent hour (how about 8?) and got up and took us out for breakfast. There's a bakery nearby. That would be a start.
But as of now, I quit.
I'm not your servant.
I didn't sign up to be Molly Maid. If I enjoyed scrubbing toilets, doing dishes and vaccuuming I would find myself a second job and get paid to do this stuff.
But, really, I hate it.
And, I'm pregnant. Crawling around the toilet cleaning Doodle's pee stains hurts. Today when I was trying to clean I was crying because it all just sucks. All of it.
But you wouldn't know. Because you were sound asleep.
I've given you lists. I've begged and I've pleaded. I've left things until I couldn't stand the filth. But, now I quit. If you don't want to help me I'm hiring help. Sure it's expensive and it's not really in the budget. But I'm sure there are expenses that we can cut. I'm sure we could cover at least a few week's worth of cleaning bills by selling our large screen tv and the XBox. After that, well, I'll get creative.
But these weekend mornings. Enough. We're supposed to be in this marriage 50/50 and that includes the stuff we don't like as much as the stuff we like.