This weekend I ranted again. It seems like this is a weekly occurrence now. Every weekend I will have a massive strop about how no one else cleans and no one else tidies and how I want a weekend too.
Well it is true. I stay at home with the girls (which I love) and I consider that my full time job. I don’t mind cleaning up after them and cooking their meals etc. BUT I do mind doing EVERYTHING. Now if we both worked, we would both come home and do our fair share. Why is it that because I don’t go to work (I look after the kids) I have to do it all???? It’s not like I’ve been sitting on my bum all day watching Jeremy Kyle. It’s not like I work 3 days and have two to do the cleaning. No. I have Jelly Baby ALL DAY, EVERY DAY.
Oh yes, and I work. Of course because I work from home it’s not a real job and therefore it doesn’t count. Apparently it is ok if I find the time to do this work in the evenings or weekends, or early mornings, or other times when I would like to have a chance to rest. Like a normal person. You can tell how much this cheeses me off because I am forced to write in SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTERS.
This weekend for example Jelly Baby wouldn’t nap so I spent an hour in her room trying to rock her to sleep. I came down and nothing was done. Bean had been left to rot in front of the TV and Daddy was nowhere to be seen. (He was in Tesco buying onions for the spaghetti sauce he wanted to make). He hadn’t even put a load of washing in. Or moved the muddy wellies from the hall. Or emptied the nappy bin. Or done Bean’s homework. Cue shouty mummy.
Sometimes I think I should just accept this as my lot, other times I think not. I am not that person, that doormat, and the stress of it would eat away at me. So today I came to the conclusion. I can either write down his chores in a detailed day by day list so that he can do them instead of arsing around or I can go on strike and let him see how much I do and guilt him into doing more.
I have gone on somewhat of a mini strike this week anyway. I left a bottle of vanilla extract on the kitchen counter after I made cake last week. All week it has sat there. It would probably sit there for a year before he noticed. The same with the bath mat, which I washed but didn’t put back down. Did he even notice? Nope. He’s just slung towels down instead. This is why I am a little dubious as to whether a strike will work. And it will offend me to have a dirty house for a week.
It was in the news this week of an American mum who did just this and went on strike. (although for her it was more about teaching her kids to tidy up after themselves). Here is the link to her blog. Maybe that can be a last resort. For now I am going with writing a chore list. Yes…watch out, I am now THAT mum!