Husbands and Housework

I admit it: I’m one of the martyrs.  It’s not a shocking admission.  I am not quiet about my suffering.  I am guilty of bitching like crazy complaining politely about all of my many responsibilities while whining obnoxiously mentioning that my dear husband seems to have far fewer responsibilities.

And really, I am stretched too thin.  Just like most mothers who are not wealthy enough to hire a full staff of helpers.  It’s a lot of work to be responsible for a whole group of people every second of every day.  Especially when one of those people refuses to ever be put down, ever, and another shows her resentment of this fact in totally inappropriate ways.  Especially when you have the added stress of working full time (on the opposite schedule of your husband) and still just getting by and being the one in charge of all the financial stuff.  Plus, just the fact that I AM overwhelmed by my responsibilities makes me feel like a failure right off the bat.  ‘Cause my mom did all this.  And so did her mom.  And they did it so well, back before husbands were EXPECTED to help with the dishes.  At least, that’s how it’s always seemed to me.

I was all prepared last week to create a post about the inequities in marriage.  What happens to otherwise helpful husbands when the kids arrive that suddenly shifts all the work to the Mom?  My theory: they’re still helping just as much, it’s just that the AMOUNT of work has increased dramatically.  So, percentage-wise…you get the picture.  Which is why they feel like you’re nagging too much, and YOU feel like you’re nagging too much without any perceptible results.

But then, I took this very cute picture yesterday:

That is Brian, not only cleaning the kitchen, but keeping Lola entertained AND teaching her how to help clean as well.  And that was before he cooked a delicious meal for us plus company.  And then did a lot of the cleanup from that, did the whole bedtime routine thing with Lola, handwashed all my pump parts so they’d be dry and ready in the morning, and volunteered to take the baby in the middle of the night when he was fussing.  I didn’t take him up on that offer, but he did offer without any discernible huffing.

When I think about it- I’ve never had company planned without Brian helping a great deal with the preparation.  I am never made to feel guilty when I go out with friends (I DO feel guilty, but it’s not his fault).  I rarely pump my own gas, I have taken our garbage to the curb exactly ONCE since we moved into our house 4 1/2 years ago, etc. etc. ad nauseam.  I don’t really have it so bad.

I do have more to do than I can find the time for.  And honestly, the responsibility sharing is not 50/50; I don’t know that it ever will be, and I’m not sure how I feel about that being the reality for the vast majority of households.  But we’re both working so hard and giving so much of ourselves to this monumental task of raising a family.  My husband deserves a pat on the back just like I do.  Thanks, Baby!  (even though I totally know you’re STILL not reading this!) 

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In other news from the weekend…

I love to bake.  I have less time for it lately (see preceding paragraphs), but I tried my hand at it this weekend.  I made Peanut Butter Cheesecake Brownies that I saw at Parsley, Sage, Desserts and Line Drives.  I had the help of a lovely assistant:

 

 I wonder if Julia Child ever had to put her assistant in timeout for flagrant sink splashing?

I was a little disappointed with my results.  I don’t know if I underbaked them; I feared the edges were starting to look overdone, but most of it ended up soggy when I cut into it.  They tasted good though, and this morning, when I woke up, the consistency was much better after sitting overnight.  And I ate at least 3 pieces, just to be sure.  🙂