Friday, June 27, 2008

No Flashback, Just a Rant

You know, I just don't have it in me to do a flashback Friday post today; I will be back with one next week, but when I try to think of something in the past about which to write, I get stumped. When I remember things, lately anyway, the memories tend to be not-so-great, and I am tired of dwelling in the past.

And what I am in a general sense is also tired. It has been one of those weeks where the days have flown by, and before I know it is time to get up and start another day. My daycare is closed all next week for the 4th, too, so here at work I have been frantic with trying to get my desk cleared; I am taking Monday off, and with hope the childcare for the rest of the week will fall into place, and I am feeling basically frazzled and annoyed,

But this is part of my annoyance, the fact that this closure of the daycare is next week, and I don't have childcare lined up yet. Why, you might ask? I will TELL you why: because Steve did not follow through. Before I get any further, let me tell you that when Owen was born, I was responsible for finding and approving a daycare, with no effort or input from him at all. When our sweet Owen was getting abused at that daycare, it pissed Steve off, sure, but he also left it to me to research and find another one. I had all of the verbal support in the world from him, but no practical help. When Owen was so sick the first year of his life, it was I who used up every minute of my sick and vacation time in order to take care of him, take him to the doctor, etc...as well as completely changed my diet (still nursing at that time) AND Owen's in order to accommodate Owen's food allergies when they were diagnosed. When this daycare was also closed last year at this time (it is her vacation every year), my Hannah stayed home with Owen, but this year, Hannah isn't home and Eli is not EVEN responsible or patient enough to deal with a toddler for 9 hours a day. Anyway, so I have done approximately 90% of all of the caretaking and arrangements and such up until now. You have to know that going in so I don't come across as just another bitch.

So last month, I told told Steve that the daycare was going to be closed, and that I would need his help finding care for Owen during the week (there are oodles of Steve's family here, any of whom I would feel comfortable in having watch Owen). Two weeks ago I reminded him again, he said he was working on it, then last week I asked him what the plans were and he still didn't know, and finally, last night, I said, "Who is going to watch Owen next week?" Steve's response: "I don't know, I haven't really talked to anyone about it yet." WTF? Does he not get the fucking concept of NEXT WEEK? As in four days from now? He DID talk to one sister about Sam, and she is going to be taking Sam to Bible School with her two kids all next week (they are all three of an age), which I think is great and cool, but then, Sam isn't the one I was worried about.

And last night, this was my night: in addition to work stuff, there was a church picnic at 6:00. I get off at five, so there was a rush to get kids and dessert and such all gathered up. I called Steve and asked him if he could please help me out by coming over after work (he gets off at 8:00) and getting Owen bathed and in bed for me, because after the picnic, Sam had a dress rehearsal for his dance performance. I didn't want to have to deal with O. at the rehearsal, so I prevailed up Eli to watch him for a half hour until Steve got there, and then Steve would take over. We got home at just after 9:00, and Owen had NOT been bathed, and was sitting on the couch hanging out with Steve eating Cheetos. It just annoyed me, because I would not have asked Steve to come help had I known that he wasn't, in fact, going to actually help.

It is frustrating to no end sometimes. It is a vicious cycle, too; I mean, I do a lot. An awful lot. And I didn't plan for the advent of my Owen in my life any more than Steve did, yet somehow I managed to suck it up and deal, and it has not been easy. I take responsibility for making sure Owen has everything he needs, and I am there every night to do all the bathtime/bedtime stuff. I also work really hard at keeping some semblance of a normal routine for him all of the time, because it is important to make sure he gets the sleep, etc...that he needs. I am a huge believer in and practicer of consistency, and it just bugs me that Steve knows this about me and just doesn't DO it. I was so frustrated and tired when I walked in last night, because I had specifically asked him for help, I TOLD him what I needed, and he agrees-but didn't follow through. So I got home and O. did NOT get a bath last night, I did NOT brush his teeth for once, and I just out him to bed in a t-shirt and diaper.

Is the whole situation last night the end of the world? No, not at all; it isn't even a minor glitch. Owen is not going to be irreparably ruined going to bed late one night, nor are his teeth going to rot out from not being brushed one night. But when I look at it as a whole, all of the good things, the small steps toward growing up Steve is attempting to make, are overshadowed by the fact that I specifically asked him for help (last night and regarding the daycare situation), I told him exactly what kind of help I needed, and he STILL can't follow through.

Ugh. No wonder he thinks I am a bitch; I FEEL like a bitch. I know I am sometimes, often, usually, unreasonable, but this doesn't feel unreasonable to me. It feels hurtful, as well as annoying. And it makes me that much more reluctant to ASK him for help, which creates an even greater resentment, and it is a vicious cycle. With hope, he will have started taking the whole thing pretty seriously and will have made daycare arrangements, or else I am going to take Owen to his house at 7:00 on Tuesday morning and say, "Here you go, you told me you were going to make arrangements and you didn't, so I guess you will have to take the day off."

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Your last sentence sounds like a really good plan. He'll get the message immediately when he is confronted with the reality. But I know that as a parent, it is hard to just walk away from your child not knowing what will happen. At the very least, I support your rant.

Martin said...

Yikes.

Sorry for the shittiness.

FreedomFirst said...

It's not unreasonable at all for you to feel that way. My MIL pulled something like that on me when Hunter was born, and I wanted to kill her but managed to swallow it because - well, because she's their Grandmom. But she asked me if there was anything she could do before leaving that night (Hunter was born at home, after 5PM). She wanted to clean something, put something away, that kind of thing. All of which my mom had already done. She never wants to do what you need her to do.

Andy hadn't had a proper bath for nearly 3 weeks - I kid you not - because I could not lean over the tub to wash him, or lift him in and out; and Mark was too out if it to even try. So I asked her to give Andy a bath. She said okay. My family left. A half hour later she brings him in to get his pj's (it's now past 9:30 PM), and his slightly wet hair is filthy, greasy, and stinking, he had sweat and dirt running down his face still, and his hands and feet were wrinkled but still grimy!!!

I said, "Didn't he have a bath?" She said, "Oh, I just let him play in the tub for a while to rinse off. He didn't want me to wash his hair, and, you know, I'm not sure I really remember how to do it without getting soap in his eyes and all that."

If thoughts could kill, she would have died right then. Seriously, don't offer help if you refuse to come through!!! As exhausted as my mom and sisters were, they still would have been happy to bathe him before leaving had I known she would be totally useless.

Anyway. Just saying, I feel your pain a little bit. I hate that she's always offering to help me, yet I can't count on her for ANYTHING! That isn't the only time she's done that, it's just the worst time. And she did it to my mom all the time when we were growing up, too.

But now I'm just bitching, so I'll leave, lol.

Anonymous said...

OMG, I got the tight, frustrated feeling in my chest just reading this and couldn't almost couldn't finish reading it.

Someone needs to grow up and be an adult. And I'm not talking about Owen. Or you.

Sorry you had a shitty week. I really do hope next week is better.

LunaNik said...

I wish I could reach thru the computer and give you a big ol' hug girlfriend. Seriously, I deal with the same shit from my Hubs all the time. Verbal support is great, but how about some actual help, some follow thru, some inkling that you give two shits about someone else's schedule, mental health and well being, etc. except your own??!! Oh, I have to stop here...I'm about to get all worked up...

Mama Smurf said...

Maybe dropping O at his house is the best thing you can do. It may make the full time requirements of parenthood a reality for him. Maybe he has just learned to depend on you and your reliability a little too much.

Laski said...

I'm with Tara, you are being a mom.

The mom is usually the one who takes it all on . . . she think forward and backward, she plans, she acts, she motivates, she forgives, she cooks/cleans/bathes/ packs lunches, she pays (in more ways than one), she worries and frets, she cares, she understands, she compromises, she sacrifices . . . she does it all. And in the end, when someone else can't live up to his/her ONE obligation/ responsibility, SHE'S the b*tch for calling him/her out on it. Ugh. Irritating.

And look . . . in the end, you are still being hopeful. Well, add that to the list . . .

Momo Fali said...

Wow! I have a Steve too. I've learned to start sending him e-mails and tell him to respond to me for proof that he read it. That way I can let it go and know if he forgets, that it's his problem!

Anonymous said...

Not sure if my comment is still in moderation or if it launched off into cyberspace never to be seen again. Anyway, just wanted to say you have handled this a lot better than I would have. And, it sounds as if someone needs to step up to the plate and be an adult here. Hint: Not you, you are already doing that.

Kori said...

I don't know what was up with that. I typed it in but it was wrong. But I fixed it. Yay me(pat on the back) you are so on there my dear.

Anonymous said...

Kori, I am with a wonderful man, that took me years to find. 2 bad relationships and a failed marriage, I literally bumped into him, and 5 and a half years later, we're still doing great.
But
He's off Sundays and Mondays, and every Monday we do this thing. He normally gets up way early and is at work when I'm getting the kids up. I get up, I get the kids up, I help everyone get ready, then I get myself ready. I usually do last night's dishes in the morning, cause I'm just to damn pooped at night, drive 3 kids to summer camp, take the other to work with me, and get there on time.
On the one morning of the week that he is there, it's a constant "hun, can you brush her hair, can you find shoes, can you stop them from fighting." These are all things that he should know after all these years, and one of these kids is his, how come I still have to tell him all this?
Sigh.
No matter how great they are, they're never grown-ups.