Saturday:
7.30am- I get up with baby, get him changed fed washed dressed amused and sort myself out until
10.30am- dp gets up, wanders downstairs in pants, makes himself breakfast and settles down with laptop
11am- I suggest he goes and gets dressed as we are going to an animal park (as agreed previous evening as weather is sposed to be lovely) he says "in a minute"
11.15, 11.30, 11.50, 12.15 onwards... I suggest again and again, imbetween changing, feeding and amusing ds, packing picnic, getting everything ready to go.
1.30pm - I dare to ask instead of suggest him to get ready, now please. He explodes, slams laptop shut, shouts, thuds about like a neanderthal. Retreats upstairs
2pm- All is quiet upstairs. He's either sleeping or wanking (usually both, I suspect) I debate shouting up the stairs knowing it will cause further tantrums and decide to give it 10 more min.
2.10pm-ish he wanders downstairs still in his pants, but clutching a crumpled tshirt. Progress, though?
2.40pm- I jokingly ask through the bathroom door if he's fallen down the plughole, he snaps "I'm pooing!"
2.50pm- emerges from bathroom looking EXACTLY THE SAME and still in his pants. Goes out for a fag and then makes a coffee. I bite my tongue.
3pm- I go online to check what time the park closes (5pm) and mention this to dp who is choosing music to iron to in the kitchen. By now I have my coat and shoes on, baby is fed and I'm having to let him crawl round in his clean clothes as he's so bored.
3.30pm- I'm giving up. Dp is straightening his hair in the bathroom, and is in a foul mood as I've been "nagging"
3.45pm- I find dp in the kitchen with a screwdriver and a wire. I'm pissed off, I take my shoes and coat off, sit down and give ds his share of the picnic lunch as he is starving.
4.01pm- dp emerges with coat on, asking why I'm not ready to go. I snap that there's no point in going now and he accuses me of ruining the day. I say the park closes at 5pm, he says "oh, well you didn't tell me that"
AAAAAAAARGH I bloody DID!!
We ended up going to the park the next day at 2.30pm with no picnic and no sunshine. He says he hates my nagging, but if I don't organise the day, and do the nagging we don't go anywhere and just waste the weekend staying indoors, which he also says he hates and gets sad about.
Am I a harridan? how would you deal with his constant and total procrastination? Reasoning and asking nicely seems to fall on deaf ears, shouting results in mega tantrums from him and more procrastinating to wind me up.