Wednesday, November 12, 2008

I'm about to burn my bra

Don't get me wrong...I'm not a feminist, per se. Never have considered myself so. I like it when a man opens a door for me. In fact, it pisses me off when one does not. Moreover, it pisses me off when anyone lets a retail aluminum door slam in my face, without even checking behind them as they go through! But back to men...I'd like a world where men stand when you need to go to the powder room, or go out and heat up the car on a cold night before picking you up at the door. Something about that nostalgia, that throw back to a different time where gentlemen ruled. I have many double standards. And I'm ok with them. They make me happy.

But the lines are getting a little fuzzy, even for me. I never intended to stay home forever with baby boy. I always knew I would go back to work. Not to say I'm not sad about the deadline fast approaching...many more posts to come on that once I find the time (did I mention baby boy is almost WALKING!?!?). But I do love my job teaching and look forward somewhat to getting back into it. But the deadline is swirling up some long hidden resentments. Resentment held for my husband, and indeed, most husbands (look I held back from saying a general "all husbands", for I know there are some fantastic mr. moms out there. Ok, that term bothers me! Check out www.mikeandmick.com to witness a rare specimen at work!). Why is it that when a husband stays home with the kid we call it "babysitting"? He isn't getting paid! They are his children! Ack! I guess I am realizing how much time has gone by-a whole year almost-and how little free time, or alone time I've had that entire year. Just this morning I was going tinkle with baby boy pulling up on my knees and hubby brushing his teeth beside me. REALLY. I don't think I've gone to the bathroom alone in months. Usually now I have to wipe my ass with one hand and the other hand holding baby boy's hand so he won't pull out a million sqaures of toilet paper, that I will no doubt later have to clean up.

What is really bringing this to surface-the unfairness of parenting...in a non-feminist world. I want my husband to go make the bacon. I wanted my mat leave. But it wouldn't hurt once in a while for the man to take the baby boy for a few hours, a day even! Could I be alone in my house for while? could I sleep in...like really sleep in...without the sounds of baby boy's obnoxious toys in the living room wafting into my dreams? My husband is going on an impromptu boys weekend this month. I have NEVER, ever been the naggy type in my life. But now it is letting loose full throttle. "How nice for you". I say. "Not a care in the world! Oh, wifey will take care of it all no problem." And of course I do. Worst thing is, my husband is one of the true good men, who certainly doesn't think this way...I am projecting. But he is still going on the weekend. I want him to go...I don't know. Work with me here ladies...you understand right? I don't even want a weekend...I just want the ability to have one on a whim. Like a man. The "option to" is driving me insane! I can't stop putting snarky comments into every one of our conversations.

Jesus. I can't even get to yoga once or twice a week, let alone a weekend. How about 6 hours staright uninterrupted sleep...let alone a weekend. Sigh. Do nursing bras burn well?

2 comments:

Xaviers Mommy said...

I hear you on wanting the ability to have a weekend. My son's only 8 weeks old, but since he was 12 days old I've been doing it alone. His dad and I were still living together for a while (WEIRD) for financial help. But he was never in. I hate that he can do whatever, whenever. I love my son, and I love spending time with my son. But I would LOVE to have a 1/2 an hour for a quiet bath or something.
Your posts are great, very entertaining! :) thanks for the smile.. doesn't happen often anymore

Milkybeer said...

I hear ya! My first big night out was to the mall. I didn't even feel like shopping, but I spent an hour and a half wandering from store to store just because I could. Oh and did I mention my first big night out was also my only big night out? My daughter is now almost 7 months old. Sigh.