Here's How I Feel About It

My husband probably cooks more than 50% of the dinners in our house. He does 90% of the yard work, 0% of the laundry... ok, maybe 10%, about 50% of putting kids to bed, 20% of the diaper changes and about 25-30% of the other cleaning around here.

That leaves me doing less than 50% of our dinners, about 10% of the yard work, 50% of the laundry (I know that doesn't add up to 100% of laundry being done. Did you read the last post? Folding doesn't happen very often). I put the kids to bed 50% of the time and do about 70-75% of the other cleaning. He works 40+ (sometimes +++) hours a week. I work anywhere from 15-20 hours a week. I make $3.50 an hour. He makes almost 5 times what I make.

We are both, very happy with this arrangement.

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So being completely lazier than I should be today, I was taking a look at KSL.com. You know, just browsing around, seeing if there was anything happy to report, funny news, blah, blah, blah. Really, just browsing. I came across a report that shows a study of working mothers having a lower self-esteem because they're not in the home with their children as much as they "should" be. Then it linked to this MSNBC story saying that working mothers are resentful? BAHHH! Here is why it REALLY pushes my buttons. And I'm even a (mostly) stay-at-home mom.

First of all, didn't women push and shove and scream and yell and pull hair to get equal rights? Did we not (even recently, if I'm not mistaken) whine and moan about not being treated equally in the workplace?

Now normally -like if I'm having an "argument" with my husband about me changing my mind all of the time- I'd say "What can I say? We're women." But truth be told, that's not really an excuse for our behavior.

(Disclaimer: it still ALWAYS applies if you are trying to pick out an outfit/shoes/jewelry/or pretty girl nail polish, or want to win an argument with your significant other).

Anyway, I must be missing the point because I really don't think that having a family means having Dad come home, sit on his rear, ask what's for dinner, tell the kids to be quiet because he's watching "his" show, and then say "Goodnight kids, I love you. Hey, Honey? Can you grab me another beer?" Nope, not on your life... Honey.

Honestly, I am more than happy most of the nights that I am at work because I know my husband and father to my children is more than capable to make dinner, feed the kids, clean them up and put them in clean jammies, having them clean up after themselves (the majority of the time) and putting them to bed. Sometimes he even lets them pick a movie from the Netflix instant queue and sits with them to watch a movie... yeah, he's an awesome Dad - and partner for that matter.

So back to the, um, studies... are women bitching just to bitch? There's single moms out there who work their arses off to provide for themselves and their children. Why don't you ask them if they would feel more depressed to have some help. I doubt it. I've been there. It sucked to have zero help. I have seen all sides of this spectrum too. I was married to AJ and Jessah's dad for a mere 2 1/2 years and worked and recieved very little help from him. Not only did I not get the help that I needed, but neither did the kids. It was miserable just so you all know. After that lovely experience (lovely being sarcastic, but did you see what I got outta that deal?? Nothing could be better)

... Ha ha! I love them!

Oh yeah, back to the point. After that, ahem, expierience, and a few other no-need-to-mention expieriences, I moved to Logan with my two kids and nothing else, a ghetto apartment on the "bad" block of Logan, where my neighbors fought all of the time, my roof looked like it would fall down on top of us, and I was sleeping on a air mattress that I had to re-inflate every night because it didn't hold air very well. I woke up in the mornings, got my self ready, woke up my 2 children, took them to an amazing day-care that the state paid for (all but $400 worth per month), worked anywhere from 7-8:00AM to 5-6:00 PM. Went to the store usually after work usually just to wander, because the less amount of time I had to be at home, the better. Came home, bathed kids, watched a movie with them on the floor because we had one glider chair and no other furniture in our family room, and then put them to bed. Repeat that Monday through Friday. On the weekends, I drove to my parents' house in Ogden because I didn't have anything else to really do that could keep me out of the apartment. I hated it. HATED it. But I did it. I did it all by myself until David came into my life.

I love this man right here.

This is what a husband should be. A best friend. A partner to debate with. Someone to cry to. Someone to pick on. Someone to help. Someone who doesn't expect me to do anything, besides be there for him and the kids. And at the same time, I don't expect him to do anything either. We share our responsibilites. We share our life. I am very lucky, I know, but if women have a husband like mine.... you're lucky too. No reason to be bummed. Really. It's worse without him.

I AM LUCKY