I am sorry in advance, I think this might be a bit rambly/venting. I am really at a loss to understand what is happening in my relationship and what (if anything) I can do about it. Maybe an outside perspective or two would help.
Firstly can I say I am not a placid and calm person. I do not do quiet resentment and much prefer to deal with things as they arise. I can be shouty and I am not good at letting the small stuff go and only taking issue with the stuff that really matters. I also have OCD, which contributes in a small way to being quite particular about how I like things done (I've had CBT and a lot of years experience in dealing with this though, so I really mean it that it's a relatively small part of how/who I am. If it's even relevant, I don't know).
The problem is my husband is a twat. No, he isn't really, but right now that's how I feel. We seem to have developed this dynamic where if I criticise him for anything, or even suggest he might be better doing something differently, he gets massively defensive and starts talking complete shit and deflecting from the issue, the situation quickly escalates, he says the first thing that comes into his head which is usually inflammatory and quite wrong, and all hell breaks loose. I try to stick to the point, he chucks in tangentially related criticisms of me, says stupid things that he really doesn't mean, and eventually someone will stomp off, sleep in the spare room, silence will reign for a day or two and then I (ALWAYS me) will break the ice and we'll talk. At this point he accepts he's been a twat and it gets brushed under the carpet until next time. And this is the problem, there's always a next time. It's about a range of things, some minor but quite annoying (a recent example, I calmly and reasonably suggested his dishwasher stacking technique might be contributing to a sub-optimal result - he just chucks stuff in, pots on top of glasses, tomato-y things not rinsed, solids still on plates) and he overreacted. Or more serious things, like 'forgetting' to strap DD in the pushchair and racing off down the street because he was running late. He could have bloody killed her, I was furious. But it turned into an analysis of how I'm always on at him and always criticising and always being horrible etc etc. He CANNOT be wrong. he CANNOT apologise. Nothing is ever his fault.
I also feel that at some level he fundamentally undervalues my contribution to this relationship. We both work FT, and at the moment earn roughly the same. However my salary will increase by a modest amount as I am promoted, whereas his has the potential to increase significantly (or not, of course, depending on how things go). We are comfortably off in that we have a good lifestyle/house/etc but with expensive childcare there is not much left at the end of the month. I mean, that there is no option for me to cut my hours or give up work.
Last night I reminded him (it's on the calendar - I organise everything to do with childcare, paying bills, extra curricular activities, all that kind of stuff. I also do all the cooking/shopping/thinking about cooking/shopping/meal planning) as it's Easter holidays the schedule is a bit different. I am having to take annual leave and I have managed to organise things so he doesn't have to change his work pattern very much. But I reminded him I need him to take DD to nursery on his way to work 2 mornings next week. Meaning that he would be an hour later that his usual (self-imposed) ridiculously early start. Well, fuck me, you'd think I'd asked him to fly to the moon. Didn't I understand he was building a business, his working week was getting shorter because of all these demands on his time, contracts were going to be lost, was I living in cloud cuckoo land thinking that everything was going to magically fall into place without him putting the hours in etc etc etc. Twat. So of course an argument ensued with me telling him they were his children as well and what did he want me to do, completely take the piss so that i get sacked and then where would we be? I just feel that I ask very little from him in that regard and it's not my fucking fault if sometimes he needs to help as well. And actually, why should I even be asking in the first place? Can he not see for himself that he might need to give this a bit of thought? It's not like I'm asking him for a favour, though that's what it feels like.
And the cooking thing. He can't/won't. Though he says he will, if I just sit down with him and 'menu plan'. Tell him what to do, basically. I don't want to tell him what to do. I want him to be able to look in the fucking fridge and see what we've got and feed the kids without acting like he's super-Dad. I am sick to death of thinking, planning, buying, cooking food for this family at every meal and having one child complain that they wanted something else, the small one chuck it on the floor or rub it in her hair, and him put his head down and chomp through it like a fucking horse, I could hear him in the next room and it makes me want to scream. This lunchtime I looked at him (still not talking after last nights argument) and I actually thought I hated him and wondered if we would be better apart.
Well that's a bit long and ranty as I expected but that's just how I feel today. he was sensible enough to realise I was at snapping point and has taken the kids out for a walk so I can have a bit of time to myself. I just sometimes feel that this has all gone on too long and we've lost respect/love for each other and maybe we're flogging a dead horse. I don't know.
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What is actually going on here?
UnwelcomeMemories · 28/03/2016 14:14
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