Breaking Dad.....

I have a secret. Its sick and I know its wrong But it makes me feel better. I want my husband to suffer....Now I don't mean forms of torture, well not really but I do want him to feel just a 10th of the the stress I feel from OUR children. I always say that if Reincarnation exists I'm coming back as a Dad because its 0 stress 100% fun..... but its true. Dads have it so easy compared to us Mums, whose head is more like a constant Google search of things to do, think about, worry about, worry a bit more about and then actual do.;they literally have no idea. He's not a bad person, in fact he's a bloody fantastic Dad, adoring and hands on (who escapes to work daily) but he just doesn't understand why I'm ageing faster than a peeled banana and why I'm perpetually about to "Do the Roar" out of Shrek. I can tell he thinks I'm crazy at 6pm when I launch the kids at him crying - sometimes I'm joining them- before he even has time to get out of the car. He finds it hard to understand why I'm threatening to pull an actual chunk of my hair out for even thinking he can go to the gym before bedtime.....and for this He.must.pay.

Lets start with the pregnancy and labour. 
It started off all good, back when we were well rested, free time drenched morons who both wanted a baby, but it escalated quickly from the minute 2 lines popped blue. I'm not quite sure how this came about that when 2 people would like a child but only one person quits a whole list of things they like to drink and eat, throws up in the middle of Asda...twice, gets stretch marks, generally turns your body into a bit of elastic that never really went back...or maybe play doh that was completely reshaped with bits added. Yeah so while standing at a wedding looking like a planet, after 9mths solid of NO drinking its surprising I wasn't more sympathetic when my husband was winging he couldn't have a "A few more pints" in case I went into labour...sorry my bad. I had Oscar the next day as well, probably to spite him. Also why does only one person have to have a suspicion they maybe dying, then go through hours of feeling like all your bones were being slowly broken and then to get sweet relief split your genitals wide open to meet the little bundle of joy that is both yours but apparently looks only like him?! I cringe when couples say "Were Pregnant" while hes knocking back a bottle of Merlot with a Brie toastie...bitch please! I still often sit and wonder how many Dads have almost died from i phone playing and complaints of their own hunger during child labour?... NO idea.

Moving onto the rest of their lives. After a full day with my boys where I have taken several hours to build up to this level of wild eye crazy and may have drank a gulp of Pinot straight out of the fridge door...before 5pm. I cant tell you the pleasure it gives me when after just 15 minutes of Daddy coming in and being crawled over, having an audience on the toilet, asked 100 questions, being covered in stickness and "Daddddy" on repeat he caves and asks "Is it bedtime yet?" AT last I'm not alone or a horrible Mother for looking forward to bedtime so much, its not just me, this really must be a form of torture. Birthday party's are no better, why Dads think that Mums thrive on a room full of screaming kids is beyond me. Its no better for us, we don't know any other parents either! Also have you noticed when a Dad ever comes alone to one of those things, for a start its "A huge favour but I can now go drinking all day tomorrow for the match" (Swear to god word for word I heard that once) and its also "Well My wife has bad food poisoning so I've HAD to come" ...oh YOU poor thing. Then a gaggle of Mums proceed to fuss about him giving him a cuppa and a biscuit...Neck massage? Can I also ask why when I do bath time I use the time to clean the bathroom, but when its Daddy's turn he sits on the toilet lid and catches up with his  Fifa game? Hobby's how many Mums have ones that take up to 10hrs on a Saturday....every weekend? #Rugby That's totally fine for Dads. Can you imagine though a Mum saying "I will be out most of Saturday just doing what I fancy... September - May" Doesn't happen, most my friends get earache if they have to WORK on the weekend and use Daddy Daycare. Which FYI is also classed as "Babysitting"...Its your child, Who the fuck are you babysitting for?!   

I cant even have a bath on my own any more.


Its the same when the weekend rolls around and the question that brings bile to my throat "What are we going to do today?"..this is from Daddy NOT the kids. I realise it will get better when the boys get a bit older as more options will open up but for now...5yrs... a (insane) 2yr old is not good company with most things, remember when Oscar licked the back of someone's head at the cinema?! Also being trapped in doors because of this awful weather the last few months has brought new meaning to the medieval phrase 'Surviving the Winter' I have been battleing the 'What to do' all week/year and when I ring Daddy just to sound off because I've got a child who is purple from crying but will no longer have a nap, we are both going stir crazy however cant do much in 59mins before the school run....when I will then have 2 children to entertain indoors and he says the word "Just". It could have anything behind it but that casual way in which my every problem can be solved with JUST "Going Swimming!" actually that's what is always behind it, swimming is the answer to everything where Dads are concerned. Why wouldn't it be, they don't have to get back in the shower and shave their entire body, they are not worried that said "reshaped plasticine body" giving a ghost a run its money body will make someone sick on the slide and they certainly don't have to think about getting their hair wet or having to spend an hour redoing it....when did life get so complicated?! Anyway the point is I want to stab him when he says JUST, so again it gives me great pleasure when we have actually been swimming and to soft play and he realises the horror of its only 1pm "what now?!"....yeah try it 24/7 babe.      

We have created these little darlings, brought them into the world voluntarily and with much excitement, but the problem is and I don't care how patronising I sound "You CANT possibly know what its like until you have children" and if its not for you tough luck, its not a dentist appointment you can cancel or a Dog you can return. So this is it nightly wake up calls, 5am rising, showers and toilet breaks are debatable, tantrums, noise, relentless mess, louder noise, sick in your hair, bedtime showdowns, broken...everything and a not a spec of your life is yours any more. Its kind of like having an arm that isn't attached to you, you cant control it, but you feel all its pain and even when your not with it you cant stop thinking about it; usually with guilt. BUT why is most of this guilt mine? I'm not going to lie I might have stocked the kids up on sweets before Daddy has taken them out for a few hours...just to feel the full hedonistic/aneurysm effect for his benefit obviously. In fact I'm mildly disappointed on the rare occasion he goes to the supermarket with them and he doesn't look like he might cry on return. He once made the mistake of after glancing round our trashed house (always) and uttering "What have you done all day?" He still has the scars, but recently when I went away for the night upon my return the house looked like they had been playing Jumanji?! You can imagine my out right glee when he took the boys to the allotment this weekend and while painting the fence he left a tin of gloss open...ha haaaa obviously Oscar immediately put 2 hands up to the elbow straight in the tin...then while Daddy was cleaning it up he let our 10 chickens out their coop. 

Then just when I fear I may never actually break him he occasionally mutters
..."I don't know how you do it".

Ash xox     

1 comment:

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