Bedtime

I really should be heading to bed myself even though it is only 8:20 p.m., but I need to get something off my chest before I do.

You see I was just trying to get my daughter down. Most nights lately it is a challenge. She has dropped to one nap which is great but she is now sleeping two to two and a half hours in the afternoon which has been throwing off when she is going down now at night. We have been desperately trying to keep the same schedule but it has been hard the last couple of weeks.I know she was ready for bed tonight, but she wasn't quite there so we were just hanging out - rocking in her room, telling stories, snuggling.

Before she falls asleep, she will turn over onto her belly and put her head on my shoulder. She had just settled in to this position and who comes in to check how things are going but my hubby. Daddy is here to save the day - TA DA!

Well of course, she sits up, starts fussing and now we have to start all over again, except that she now wants daddy to cuddle with. I love the bond that these two are developing, she is truly daddy's girl, but hey buddy - where were you half an hour ago when I started this process. You could have offered to do the whole thing tonight. Oh yeah, you were reading.

Yeah sure, you did the dishes after supper tonight but that was only because I was upstairs, changing yet another poopy diaper and then continuing to fold and put away the laundry (and keeping the child amused at the same time), that you started and didn't finish Saturday, leaving me to finish that off yesterday while you went off racing from very, very early morning to after I went to bed last night. You could have at least put the toys in the livingroom away. It took me a whole two minutes to do when I came back downstairs.

I have been trying to figure out what is really at the root of the anger I feel when these moments arise. I think a lot of it still stems from a "conversation" he and I had back in September - about how he didn't feel it was fair that I expected him to come home and clean and cook after he had worked all day . . . I was staying home, that was my job now. Can you say 1950's mentality! Sweetheart, did you also want me to meet you at the door in my good dress, pearls and pumps with your drink in one hand and the clean, and ready for bed toddler in the other, while supper simmers away on the stove? WTF! Some days I really wonder what value he puts on staying at home and raising our child.

I have no answers for this one. As I said at the top, I just really needed to get it off my chest. Thanks for listening.