wednesday whine

Disclaimer: This post intends no disrespect to working moms or non-working moms or military (wife) moms (who I know deal with this issue on a MUCH LARGER scale) or moms who can’t get a job. Or my husband. Amen.

Thank you for joining me for yet ANOTHER edition of Wordy Whiny Wednesday. Today’s whine will be brought to you by my bad attitude, PMS and generally a childish outlook. If you’re one of those perpetually pleasant people you may want to come back in a couple of days. And if per chance you do make it to the end of the Whine, I thank you kindly and ask that you would please leave a comment… Either 1. Telling me to stop whining and being a baby 2. Telling me you that empathize with my pathetic outlook or 3. Something about cake. Like perhaps I should eat one.

I am JEALOUS of my husband’s job. Whhhhhiiiinnnnnne.

There. I said it. *Sigh*

Now when I say I am jealous I don’t mean I wish I could work. Noooooo. No. No. While I do periodically miss the fulfillment of producing something other than clean laundry, breastmilk and a lovely cupcake I have no desire WHATSOEVER to be in the workforce. Ever. I very much enjoy the ‘work’ of this house. Therefore this Whine should be taken with the grain of salt that it is worth.

We now proceed with the Whining:

You may or may not know that 3 days a week my husband is GONE. Like AWAY. Away from this house. He leaves. Get what I’m saying? He goes to work, but work as it so happens, is in a land far, far from here. He packs a bag. He gets in his car. He drives away. And I. Stay. Here.

Now you should also know that we knew FULL well that this was going to be the case when we were first dating. We knew it when we moved in together. We knew it when we got pregnant. Annnd when we got married. Annnnnd when Ella was born. Annnnnnnd when I quit working. And if we get pregnant again we will know it then too. We KNEW he would have to drive away to work and yet, we did it all anyway. We had to. It was love. But yeah. I don’t like it. Not a fan.

Before I further proceed with the Whine let me say this:

1. My husband is AWESOME. He is kind and caring and loving. He is smart and funny. (Also he’s hawt)
2. My husband does not WANT to leave here. He’d much rather be here changing diapers and playing with his baby girl. He’d rather drive kids all over creation and listen to tales of elementary/jr. high/high school woe. He’d rather sit on the sofa and watch Twin Peaks and snuggle with me at night in OUR bed. But he cannot. Because he has to go far, far away to work.
3. He does not GO to work far, far away with the intention of having any fun while I cook and clean and become perpetually sleep deprived. It’s just that sometimes… fun finds him.

Furthermore, I am not suggesting that my husband would rather be playing tennis while I fold the 87th load of laundry this week. But you know, maybe he gets the chance to play tennis (or run or whatever). And pretty sure no laundry. And I’m not saying that he’d rather be having a rare beer with a buddy while I’m bouncing a fussing baby or getting her BACK to sleep for the 11th time, but yeah, sometimes, that too. Beer. No baby crying. Also I’m not saying he’d rather get an ENTIRE HOUR to play guitar with no one grabbing him and asking him for anything AT ALL EVER. But yeah, he’s alone soooo. That. And not saying he’d rather be getting SEVEN STRAIGHT HOURS OF SLEEP IN A MOTHEREFFING ROW than be here with me next to him tossing and turning and co-sleeping with a wiggling 8 month old. But those things are in fact happening because he goes AWAY to WORK.

Ah work.

See most of the time it’s just boring stupid work that I’m sure he wishes he didn’t have to do. He just goes to his big office and does it ALL DAY for like a hundred hours and then goes to a lonely empty room (sounds awesome right?) where he calls me, tells me about his day and then sleeps 7 hours, gets up at the ass crack of dawn then goes BACK to the office where he works out, showers and then goes BACK to his desk, usually well before 8 am. At his desk he gets to have maybe a pastry he finds at a meeting room oooor a bagel on Wednesdays, cause that’s bagel day. And coffee. OH and leftovers he brought to eat from home. But every now and then things happen… like this one time when I was HUGE and pregnant (and I mean HUGE) and I was killing ants upstairs and falling over the cat and sobbing like a HUGE PREGNANT LADY while his office was throwing “us” a baby shower. With CHAMPAGNE. And CAKE people. CAKE. And when he called he said, “It was so nice. They gave us a shower.” And I replied lovingly, ‘WELL WHERE THE HELL IS MY EFFING CHAMPAGNE THEN?” Because I was not invited to the shower. I was only invited to the ant killing and falling down party. And ha, whaddya know I was the ONLY PERSON at that party. And sometimes he gets to go to lovely lunch where there is food that is not peanut butter that he doesn’t have to pay for. Food like lobster ravioli. And wine. Or beer. Or other drinks that are not cold coffee or water that tastes like feet (no really). And I am eating a stale sandwich that I made like 2 hours ago but never got to because someone started crying and then something else and something else. Etc. Etc. You get the point. And sometimes, ok only once so far but still, this is his view for two days:


(In case you can’t tell. That is the OCEAN.)

Because in the world of the internet, companies fight to gain and keep loyalty. They fight hard. And dirty. And apparently that means a 4 star resort in Santa Cruz. Where there is a big soft EMPTY bed with no baby keeping you up all night. And there is no laundry. At ALL. And where they will cook for you. FOR YOU. And there are no DISHES. And they will give you an open bar (that my actually be untrue, but there will for sure be plenty of beer). And they will let you play ON THE BEACH. GAMES. On the BEACH, people. The Beach.

And I’m jealous. It’s the ugliest of all the seven deadly sins, I KNOW, but there it is. Rearing it’s ugly sinning deadly head. And he says “the weather isn’t going to be very good” OR “there is fire soot {from the BONFIRE on the BEACH} and I’m having to breathe it” or “I’ll try not to have too much fun”. And I say. PLEASE. SHUT. THE. HELL. UP (that’s hyperbole, I’d never actually say that) be quiet. Because I have a migraine from the screaming AND I WANT TO RUN DOWN THE STREET AND POSSIBLY TO THE NEXT TOWN AND MAYBE PULL A FORREST GUMP RIGHT NOW (I’ve never actually had a migraine. Also I’d die if I ran more than 3 miles.)


I feel bad about myself.

Because this is my view:

This is NOT THE BEACH PEOPLE. Even if there is some water somewhere in that hose.

But also there’s this:

So I KNOW I really CAN’T complain. I know this. Because I’m getting to do what I want. I’m getting to be with our sweet little baby every hour of every day. I get to see her grow and change and I know I’m INCREDIBLY LUCKY. I know.

It’s just that I REALLY would like to be lucky on the beach sometimes.

Thanks for playing.

Anyone get this? Anyone? Bueler?

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15 Responses to “wednesday whine”
  1. TMae says:

    Oh my god, do I feel you. When O was first born, and I was a new mom, with no family in the area (hell, in the same time zone), who was having trouble keeping it together, and finding it extremely difficult to do because I, like you, had a kid who wouldnotsleepever, my husband wound up with a job that required frequent travel. And he hated it. But he got to hate it from a nice restaurant with tablecloths, and beer, and leisurely dining. And a hotel with a bed in a room that did not also contain an infant attached to some part of his body. I STILL have yet, nearly two years later, to have a single night in which said child does not wake up and demand to be nursed. (Okay, that part is because I choose to continue nursing and haven’t forced him to wean. Though I suppose the logic I used there could also be applied to me decisions to nurse and not sleep train, so there.) And can count the number of child-free meals I’ve eaten on one hand. And I do not get to have nice lovely lunches with colleagues and talk about something other than my kid’s poop. (Why do conversations about kids ALWAYS involve poop? Can’t we talk about something cute, like their smiles or something?)

    His traveling job is over, and I went and got myself a part-time job because I couldn’t handle all the rage that I was storing up. But I STILL get pissed when he goes out to grab lunch with his colleagues. Or goes golfing on the company dime. GOLF! For work! Grumble….

    • mommabare says:

      Aaaaand. Thank you. Yes, I love being a mom. I love being at home. That being said… All the stuff you said.

      Ella poops every four days and almost 100% of the time I catch it on the potty. Praise Maude.

  2. liz says:

    I am here. Yikes. Yesterday I had to scream. Out loud. Bloody Murder. Either that or throw a dish. My kids were screaming. They do the same stuff EVERY DAY. EVERY. FLIPPING. DAY. I want to cry, leave, cut myself, shave my head. Something to let it out. Or let me out the door. It’s bloody awful. Like you, I have a set of parenting ideals. I want to homeschool, and be a good Christian example to my kids. I. FAIL. I have no patience, I have no sanity. The only solution I can come to is breaks, breaks, and more breaks. No guilt-just sanity. A break. But I don’t get one. Ever. We moved here to be closer to family who would give us breaks. Yeah, that worked out. No breaks.
    I love my little dudes and my big dudes, and I know you love your kids as well, but where are the effing breaks???? Bedtime comes and I hope for sleep. Never happens. A queen sized bed with four people, two highly pissed off ones, does not make for rest. It sucks.
    I refuse to give up. I am not going to go back to work and stick my kids in public school, just so I can be selfish. Or maybe its not selfish. Maybe at some point its them or me going coo coo a loo.
    I am leaving now to get cake.

    • mommabare says:

      I feel like you and I should probably be spending more time talking. Sanity solidarity.

    • mommabare says:

      Also you should know I am surrounded by family and yeah breaks… no so much. Ever. Staci watched Ella so Matt and I could go out for the FIRST TIME IN 9 MONTHS. And we got ice cream. I might have kissed her square on the mouth if she had let me.

  3. Stef says:

    Yes. Our situations aren’t the same, more opposite than anything, but I’m jealous of my husband’s schedule/work from home-ness and he’s jealous of my work out of the home-ness.

    He’s jealous that I get to take trips and go out to dinners and stuff like that on the company’s dime and I’m jealous that he gets alone time at home while the kids are gone to school (or the freedom to go to lunch, go shopping, run errands, etc., if he chooses during the day). I only get alone time in hotel rooms when I’m on a trip. That’s not the same as alone time in my own house. I’m only EVER alone in my car to and from the office every day.

    And, you know what else? He gets to use our own bathroom at home every day. I have to share 4 stalls with 50 or so women in my office and it sucks. That may sound silly. Maybe it’s just me. I just like to go in my own bathroom.

    So, yeah, it’s not the same but we do all feel that sometimes. I’m with you. I get it. And I don’t think *I* need to tell you to get over it because you will on your own. We all do. Until it comes back again because it totally will. Go to the beach this weekend. It will make you feel a little better.

    • mommabare says:

      OH but yes. This is just the thing I need to hear. Because I love you and I respect you and I wouldn’t want to have to go to work everyday and you remind me of that gently and without telling me to shut the hell up that I could have it like a billion times worse than the fact that while my husband was drinking beer on the beach I was taking care of Hysterical Baby. So yeah, thanks.

      And if we weren’t going to SD next week I’d go to Morro tomorrow. But yeah. San Diego.

      • Stef says:

        You’re going to San Diego? Now I’m jealous. Shamera is down there this weekend and next week you are going. So.Not.Fair. *pout*

        Btw, I did try to compose a blog post tonight but I’m so angry with my husband tonight I can hardly think. I want to write about it but he reads my blog so I can’t and I just found it too difficult to write around it – like the elephant in the room, kwim? Anyway, I’ll try to write something tomorrow when I’m at work (shhh!). I’m able to concentrate there, usually, without getting bitched at to get off the computer or for not doing something that someone else wants me to do. (See, totally annoyed. Can’t contain it).

        I heart you. You’re a good momma.

        • mommabare says:

          Girl you should guest blog on my blog… he doesn’t read mine. It helps me out sometimes to just write shit out.

  4. Erin says:

    So I have only one minute to respond. Husband left today till Monday. So, yeah. But the other side of the coin is he’d really rather be here. At least he tells me that. I do believe him. And apart from the whole peeing alone and having time to think and all that stuff I really just miss him when he’s gone. Cause this place is all kinds of hilarious. And insane. He does get to eat at fabulous restaurants though, bastard. ;)

  5. mom of M&MS says:

    Seriously! Stop whining… want your cake and eat it too! LOL I said that cause you love cake!

  6. Laura says:

    Hmm. I could probably tell you to do all three. I would love to whine with you because I am in a similar situation. So I can get why and how you feel this way. I think it’s best to get the feelings out so they don’t fester. Your feelings are justified!

    Other Mothers are in similar situations as you. My husband is gone an average of 5 1/2 days a week. For the last 4 1/2 years. We have 3 kids at home. None of it was accidental and I know that on my most horrible days there are other Mothers that have it much worse. So yeah, we should probably stop whining.

    And eat cake. Or cupcakes. Or cake pops.

    • mommabare says:

      Wow. Ok I feel better. Thanks. My husband is at a conference right now and I just finished scrubbing the toilet. Glamorous.

  7. Devin says:

    Joni, I just want to tell you that I feel your pain! I am jealous that my husband gets to go to work for 9+ hrs everyday and talk to grown up people. I’m jealous that he doesn’t have to be here to deal with all the pre teen angsty bull that we have to deal with. Or that he doesn’t have to watch Caillou, Spongebob, iCarly, Monsters Inc. ALL.DAY.LONG. But I’m not jealous that he has to actually, you know, work. I love staying at home with the kiddos, but sometimes it sucks. Period. We should have a playdate. I would love to meet little Miss Ella.

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