Wednesday, July 31, 2013

The Domestication of MurseWisdom

In May my wife charged back into the fray. That rhymes! Anyway, she started working again after a year off. (Baby and what-not) I think I covered all of this in a previous blog. So, here is the new problem. I suck as a housewife. Now, I use the term housewife so that everyone gets an image in their head of one of those domestic goddesses from the 50's with the apron on, cooking, and cleaning with a big smile on her face.
Now, I'm the type of person that is good at everything they do. Not great at it, but good. But I CANNOT get this housework thing down. If it were just the housework or just the infant care I think I would do just fine. But combining the two is beyond my capabilities.  I mean, I'm turning in a below average performance and at best I am accomplishing the bare minimum required to maintain daily operations.

This is leading, of course, to some rough waters in the marriage. Some harboring of resentment related to the others lack of accomplishments during their days at home.  For example I'm mad if my wife leaves any dishes not done and shes mad that I'm her husband.  My wife thinks she works harder on her days off than I do, but in reality we both work hard I'm just inept at doing these things, so, I'm probably working just as hard if not harder but not getting as much accomplished. Then there is the inverse argument, which I'll admit was my doing and that it's probably not a solid platform but I've got nothing else.  I argue that my job is harder, and it is, and as such I shouldn't have to do the Lion's share of the house work. I work in a hospital and my wife does in-home patient care. She has one patient compared to my many. One permanent patient too! She doesn't have to relearn everything about her patient and their history and allergies and family member's names...etc..etc... etc... ad nauseum. I failed to mention that I have no family members that I can rely on to watch my daughter on any kind of regular basis and we will not use a day care until our daughter is old enough to tell us if something happened to her.  My dad was a cop for 36 years, I'm well aware of the sick fucking people that exist in this world.

So, I can't keep up, the baby is more mobile everyday and the dishes and the laundry and the yard and the toys and the laundry and the dishes...  then.....  THEN, she decides to switch to cloth diapers.

Now the diaper change, which I am a master of after all since I am a nurse, has turned into this complicated drawn out procedure involving the use of all new materials and no more using the diaper cream, at night she wears this one, then change her into one of these, then if you're going to be out and about use one of these but take all of this with you if she needs changed while you're out.

Even if I were starting to catch on, which I wasn't, now I'm so woefully behind is laughable.  There is special laundry procedures for the diapers, involving clotheslines, homemade detergent (That's right! Home-made!) and let's not forget that poopy diapers don't disappear into the magic trashcan. They are now taken to the bathroom where I have installed a sprayer attachment to the toilet and they are sprayed out.  (Side note: I'm regretting the insertion of Louie above at this point. The motion is aggravating while I type.)

On a slightly brighter note, Today begins my vacation. I'm heading to an un-named lake and staying in this cabin.

Golf will be played. Hot tubs will be occupied and worries will hopefully vanish; at least until Monday.

The argument is the same everyday, and I'm getting nowhere. I'm fighting the hundred year war with no relief in sight. But I am kept sane by the thought that eventually my daughter will go to school and I will have a day to myself in 4 years or so. Oh and I have this blog and you wonderful people who read it as an outlet. So, I thank you.

As always you can find me on Twitter @MurseWisdom
Follow my friends @That1Murse and @JustSomeMurse too.

Big things coming down the pipe. I have a few things cooking so stay tuned.

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