Hello,
This is not a new problem. Every solution I’ve tried has failed and left me feeling more and more powerless.
So to the context - my wife and I are full time professionals who do the exact same job. Our hours are mostly identical. She does an extra half hour or so of work more at home in the evenings than I.
We’ve been together for all of her adult life and most of mine. This is not a new problem.
My wife loves to clean - she genuinely gets a buzz out of it (no idea why) but doesn’t do it- and she is very good at remembering birthdays and clubs and knowing day to day things. She is an excellent mother - phenomenal. We have two children, 10 and 7, and the youngest is a challenge. I find myself ignored and derided by my youngest and my choice is to walk away because otherwise I shall be furious.
My wife has been brought up by two loving parents who did everything for her. Her mother did wish me luck when we moved in together. Ever since I have known her, her life has been filled with clutter and love.
In contrast, I have scraped myself out of several challenging home lives and have lived in pressurised, immaculate homes. I was taught from a young age to clean, tidy, iron and take responsibility for myself. I didn’t lack in love, but I knew my mess should be dealt with.
Our houses have always been full of work and possessions. As the children came into our lives, we declutterred and she stayed at home to cook, clean and raise our children. Here is where it began.
For ten years now, our houses have deteriorated into a constant day to day clutter-fest. Children’s toys, shoes, paperwork, washing, clothes, bags, books and whatever else.
I have handled the laundry, half the ironing, cooking and most of the day to day clean up since the children started school. But as time goes by I’ve seen that she and the children don’t really have the tidiness of the house as a priority. I on the other hand find it hard to manage mentally and practically in a messy and disorganised house.
Laundry I have done can be left unmoved for a week until I snap. Ironing I have done is discarded on the floor and crumpled within days. Toys yearned for are trodden and broken. Meanwhile, the TV is on non-stop, the noise grows and I oscillate in a corner.
I’ve raised my feelings, suggested things and even done everything in a passive aggressive fury. No change. I’ve let the carpets be covered and trampled all over it. No change. I’ve bagged it all up and threatened to throw it away. No change. I’ve bagged some up and actually thrown it away. No change. My current approach is to only pick up whatever I have interacted with and deal with my own washing (excepting school uniform). My wife likes it when I iron her clothes - they are quietly languishing.
Resentment builds, I retreat into myself and find the only clear space to sit down and read. But I can’t concentrate. Our communication has deteriorated and she feels lonely.
She’s lonely mostly in the weekday mornings because I get on and organise myself. She on the other hand cannot find the children’s uniforms (we take responsibility for ironing and storing half each in a designated place) or water bottles (we have about 30), can’t decide what shoes to where (48 pairs), makes their breakfast (both children can do it themselves as we’ve taught them), does her hair and make up, and personally dresses our 7 year old (who refuses to do so) who miraculously can do it themselves on weekends. I just can’t bear to berate or dictate to them anymore - I’m just so fed up and isolated.
So I’m back from the gym at 6.45. She’s dressed by then. I eat breakfast, shower and change, and then I wash up and tidy up and wait. If people can’t find things, I tell them where I saw them last (on the floor). If people aren’t doing anything, I point out what is needed. I teach 10-11 year olds and know what they are capable of. The house descends into a fury of lateness and panic - I am still and seething and my children are dawdling around barefoot.
I fear I am being petty and pedantic. I fear we are babying the children. I fear I am unfeeling and not setting them a good example. I fear my expectations are too great and hers too low. I fear I am not being inclusive. I fear for my marriage. I fear for my sanity.
What do I do next?