My husband is a fantastic cook (not his profession). We host people often, he loves to cook. However I am getting really tired of the other stuff that comes with it. So today for example, we have some family coming for dinner. Pretty informal, people we see often. Hubby has had a tough week and is really under the weather, so today I go to M&S buy lovely food that can be popped in the oven. Hopefully not too much work. (He still wanted the dinner to go ahead). But usually he tends to take up the whole day cooking and he can't possibly help with the children, and actually, it would be helpful if we could all get out from under his feet.
So it comes to early evening and twitching hour(s) commence with our LO and we are in the throws of dinner bath and bed. However, he can't help, as he is prepping for tonight dinner. I question this, but we apparently we need extra stuff on top of the stuff I bought, so he is cooking that.
He has a tendancy to bellow for me from the kitchen like I am his kitchen slave when he needs me for something. It's not what he says it's the way he says it.... I can't really explain this very well..
So after getting the kids to bed and inbetween numerous visits upstairs to settle the baby I am sorting out drinks and I always sort out hubby a drink. We sit down to eat, lots of praise and thanks to hubby for the dinner.
I clear up & sort pudding out, but he has to come and take over. He is quite precious about 'his kitchen' but also there is an element of him that won't let his limelight be shared.
He loves all the attention, I feel like the poor side kick, they leave, he goes to bed. I clear up, load dish washer and clean up kitchen.
I am so fucked of with it. The whole praising him for being such a fantastic, and how lucky I am. For what it's worth, he has barely cooked a thing all week as he is so poorly apparently. It's like the everyday mundane jobs don't do it for him but the really attention seeking high praise ones do.
It is like this week. I had a job interview one evening so hubby has to pick up the children and get them ready for bed. He takes a picture of him snuggled up with the children and puts it on social media with some narrative bed time with daddy. Again lots of gushing praise etc. I do this every night. Every. Fucking. Night. Nope, no parent of the year award here.
I feel I should feel lucky to have him. And I am to a degree. But he is fucking lucky to have me. I do so much for our family, and it's not even recognised or Acknowledged.
So if you have got this far, thank you for reading xx
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AIBU?
If I am AIBU pls feel free to slap me round the face with a wet fish. If I am not, can you help me articulate my feelings....
69 replies
Mikethenight2good · 21/01/2017 22:52
OP posts:
WalkingDownTheRoad ·
21/01/2017 23:32
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