What I Say To Myself On "Those Days"  

Some days, the piles of laundry and the dishes in the sink build up... and so does my level of impatience.

Usually, all that impatience is directed at DH. "Why didn't he push the dishes in the dishwasher?" I'll complain to myself. Or, "Why couldn't he fold the clothes in the dryer?" I'll silently berate him.

It's at those times that I give myself a little self-directed pep talk. It goes something like this:

Elizabeth, I'll say, You were the one who chose to stay at home full time. You were the one who chose to give up your career for full-time motherhood and wifehood. When you did that, you gave up the right to an equal division of labor. So suck it up and do the work yourself.

It's a pretty honest discussion, and it points the finger squarely at myself. Because for all of DH's shortcomings, knowing how and when to work isn't one of them. He eagerly supported my request to leave the TV news industry and stay at home. When that decision was made, I told him that it would now be my job--and I do mean job--to take care of our house and our finances.

Before, when I was working, we subscribed to the theory of equal division of labor. He cooked (ok, ok, he still does, but that's because he won't eat my cooking), I cleaned. He mowed the lawn, I mopped the floors. He ran the laundry, I folded and put it away.

We spent the first five and a half years of our marriage splitting up the work, evenly, right down the middle. I got used to that. I was spoiled by his very modern views on housework (here is where I will thank my mother-in-law for raising such a wonderful son).

And because I was spoiled, it's taken me far longer than it might have to get used to laundry left in the dryer... because I left it there; to understand that I am the reason why the dishwasher was never emptied.; to point the finger at myself when there is nothing to eat in our pantry, refrigerator or freezer.

DH still spoils me, but now it's in other ways. On his days off, he'll arrange a playdate for him and G with one of his buddies from work and their children. Or he'll make me a cup of hot tea or chocolate just before my (obnoxiously early) bedtime. Sometimes, he'll even do my laundry along with his work load (I am strictly forbidden from handling his uniform; he takes great pride in laundering it himself--go figure!).

Most of all, he spoils me by supporting me--my hopes, my dreams and the decisions I've made in the past and will make in the future. He spoils me by trusting me (if you took a close look at our household income, you wouldn't believe we could live on a single law enforcement officer's income... but I know how to stretch a dollar); he spoils me by knowing I always put our family's best interests first.