Good morning.
It's going to be a long day. This morning Tristing threw up twice. Icky. He's been not even a foot away from me since. He even sat on my feet while I was washing dishes. (Which of course leads me to my next topic.) Poor little guy. After this I'm going to get him in the bath while I clean the bathroom.
2 weeks ago, the hubby and I sat down and wrote out a list of chores for the both of us. It turned out pretty fair and I have no problem with doing my chores (seeing as I have been doing them for a loooooong time now anyway). He just really wants to keep up on the housekeeping and since I'm pregnant and tired from the 2 kids, I need help.
Well in that 2 weeks, Mike has done ONE chore (mowing the grass). His are pretty damn simple: wash dishes/load dishwasher every night, sweep every other day (so I can mop), help me with laundry (which when I was doing it, he sat right next to me the whole time and when I suggested he match the socks he got a little pissy), and take out the trash, plus mow the grass every weekend. Yeah. I'm pretty damn pissed off because I have been doing them "helping him out" because he has had a lot of stuff going on at work lately. I didn't have a problem with it at all until....
This morning, Mike menioned that we really need to clean the house this weekend because we BOTH have been slaking. EXCUSE ME?! So yeah, I pissed him off when I pointed out I have been doing MY chores plus his for 2 weeks. AND this whole chore thing was HIS idea. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
Then he calls me up after he left telling me that if I do laundry I need to pull his profile paper (says he can't run because his sprained ankle) out of his PT shorts. Okie dokie honey.
So damn it. Right after I finish this I'm going back to cleaning. I already have some dishes washed, dishwasher is running, counters are wiped down and the kitchen has been swept and mopped. I'm going to make this house seriously spotless. I'm so beyond pissed. I plan on sitting on my ass all weekend, like he does.
Just venting.
Everyone have a great weekend!!
It's going to be a long day. This morning Tristing threw up twice. Icky. He's been not even a foot away from me since. He even sat on my feet while I was washing dishes. (Which of course leads me to my next topic.) Poor little guy. After this I'm going to get him in the bath while I clean the bathroom.
2 weeks ago, the hubby and I sat down and wrote out a list of chores for the both of us. It turned out pretty fair and I have no problem with doing my chores (seeing as I have been doing them for a loooooong time now anyway). He just really wants to keep up on the housekeeping and since I'm pregnant and tired from the 2 kids, I need help.
Well in that 2 weeks, Mike has done ONE chore (mowing the grass). His are pretty damn simple: wash dishes/load dishwasher every night, sweep every other day (so I can mop), help me with laundry (which when I was doing it, he sat right next to me the whole time and when I suggested he match the socks he got a little pissy), and take out the trash, plus mow the grass every weekend. Yeah. I'm pretty damn pissed off because I have been doing them "helping him out" because he has had a lot of stuff going on at work lately. I didn't have a problem with it at all until....
This morning, Mike menioned that we really need to clean the house this weekend because we BOTH have been slaking. EXCUSE ME?! So yeah, I pissed him off when I pointed out I have been doing MY chores plus his for 2 weeks. AND this whole chore thing was HIS idea. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

Then he calls me up after he left telling me that if I do laundry I need to pull his profile paper (says he can't run because his sprained ankle) out of his PT shorts. Okie dokie honey.

So damn it. Right after I finish this I'm going back to cleaning. I already have some dishes washed, dishwasher is running, counters are wiped down and the kitchen has been swept and mopped. I'm going to make this house seriously spotless. I'm so beyond pissed. I plan on sitting on my ass all weekend, like he does.
Just venting.
