411 days to go

411

June 22nd – 1 year 1 month and 16 days from today

9.36am I’m FUMING. Or what comes after that… It all started last night when I was about to fall asleep that I remembered something that had happened earlier.
While we were filling the papers to sent to the agency to get MY house, he asked me: “How do you say housewife in German?” “Hausfrau?”. At the time, I was writing yesterday’s post and didn’t want to interrupt, so I let it pass.
After he printed the papers I said: “I can’t wait to fill in: WRITER on that field”. He looked at me with that: “Yeah, right” face that he gives me every single time that I dream. He never had faith in me or believe in me or support me in anything I did… And now he’s surprised because I stopped loving him and I want to separate?? Some men are dumb… (And my question here is: “Why do I always meet them???”).
The day continued… It was time to watch the match. I hate watching TV with my kids because I’m a bit deaf and I can’t hear a thing if they talk and they also walk in front of the TV, so I can’t see, and that makes me really nervous… And during the World Cup and while MY country is playing, let’s say that I’m not the friendliest person (or mom).
Soon the man got tired of the kids fighting and me shouting to them to shut up and let me watch, and decided to stand up and go to his room. After the match finished, the deal was that the kids were going to help me load the dishwasher. They didn’t. I was going to do it but then I was on mummy duty (that is the ugliest part of being a mom —> I had to change a dirty diaper and then my kid refused to let me put on a clean one and the result was cutie running naked menacing to pee/poo anywhere). So I had to go upstairs and force him into the shower. It was past 8.00pm.
Then it was past 9.00pm and all of them were still running around and being very noisy and not listening to me… So the man woke up (yes, he was sleeping), and said something to them and then of course something to me like: “Why are you not doing your job?” (FUCK YOU in my mind… followed by a IN YOUR DREAMS BECAUSE I’M NOT GOING TO FUCK YOU EVER AGAIN).
Finally they fell asleep… And I did too… Accidental nap (less than 10 minutes) that I mostly regret because it spoils my good night sleep (which I’m not sure why I call it good because it never is). Then I woke up, took a shower, put on my nightgown and started thinking how much I hated that “hausfrau” (housewife) on the paper.

Merriam-Webster says:

house·wife noun \ˈhau̇s-ˌwīf; especially 2 & in early poetry ˈhə-zəf or -səf\
: a married woman who stays at home, does cleaning, cooking, etc., and does not have another job outside the home.

To start… I’m not married. To continue, I don’t do much cleaning or cooking anymore… I’m on strike… I didn’t even load the dishwasher… I didn’t fold the wash (in two weeks??). He should have written on the occupation field: “MOTHER”… Because that’s what I am… A MOM. And a mom is much more than a housewife. It’s a doctor, and advisor, a driver (bike counts too!), a supporter, a fan, someone who’s always there (day and night!) and the list goes on and on.

So last night I didn’t feel like going downstairs on my nightgown to load the dishwasher and decided I was going to do it this morning…
While I was debating around 7.00am if I should leave bed or not (I have principles you know, 7.00am on a Sunday!! only if there is a risk of missing my plane because I’m going on holidays or to visit my family, otherwise I think I happily miss it and sleep in). At 8.10am I decided it was OK to leave bed and load the dishwasher. In my head I was visualizing myself writing this post and drinking my morning tea from my soup cup because no other cup was clean, while the dishwasher worked for me.
But BIG AND HORRIBLE was my surprised when I found my soup cup dirty in the sink… Because apparently the man got hungry and he prepared one of those Thai noodle soups in it sometime after midnight. RAGE!!
I had to dig in my cupboard and use this tiny cup… And I need my bucket of tea…
And it didn’t end there… I said to my kids we were waiting for their dad and the dishwasher to finish to have breakfast but the man came downstairs, prepared himself a sandwich, ate it and left… WTF… He also threatened me with something like: “Good luck when you are alone supporting yourself”… I played completely deaf there… What he doesn’t know it’s that if he thinks I’ll stay crying because he won’t pay for my kids, HE’S WRONG… I’ll make him sell his blood but my kids won’t miss a thing. And then I have my parents… They are like mattresses around me, it doesn’t matter where I fall, they’ll be always there to make it softer.

So there… When I publish my book (that it’s taking way too long because the English teacher is really busy at this time of the year), the occupation field will say: “MOM AND WRITER”.
And if you go back to Merriam-Webster and look for WRITER, you’ll find:

writ·er noun \ˈrī-tər\
: someone whose work is to write books, poems, stories, etc.
: someone who has written something

I could easily fill that in already… But I’ll wait… and then I’ll show him.

Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Hell yes!! It’s a drink today! A mojito.. or two… That’s what I’d like to have right now, I don’t give a shit it’s 10.28am… I’ll have mine with less ice, please… Salud!

th (14)

~ by DotedOn on June 22, 2014.

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