Sometimes I just want to run away. Run away to the bedroom with a sappy romantic comedy and just ignore the rest of the house. And to be honest running away is not so much from O, even though sometimes I wish I would. It’s more from DH. I feel like very weekend I clean…. Swiffer, wet jet, dust, do the dishes, laundry… and it never ends. Oh yeah, and take care of O. Every weekend it’s the same thing. And at the end of every weekend I get totally exhausted and completely demoralized. I feel like I get no appreciation. Except for the very helpful tidbits of: You need to relax. She’s a baby and gets cranky. Mmmm… Yeah, but I don’t see you doing anything about it. OH yeah, and not to mention that later in the week he tells me how much anxiety he gets when he is alone with O and she’s is fussy. So I don’t understand the difference.
I just want to cry just thinking about it.