I am a diligent homemaker but somehow the days seem too short and the socks don’t get darned, the beds remain unmade and the childrens’ homework is unsupervised. I have asked my husband to help with some of the household tasks but he says he’s too exhausted after a day at work (he’s a golf pro at the country club). The other day at breakfast I was about to say to him, “Honey, won’t you please pass the marmalade”, when instead I just blurted out, “You fucking animal, you’ve ruined my life.” You should have seen the look on his face! Was I wrong?
No, you weren’t wrong, honey.
It is better to be congruent i.e. what you feel inside should be expressed honestly. However, I must gently point out that he didn’t unilaterally ruin your life. You bore his children and therefore bear half the responsibility. Only half.
My suggestion is that when the noise level becomes unbearable in your home, pop the kids over to the country club. It’s never too soon to teach them to caddy, daddy. When the one you chose above all others experiences free-range children at first hand, he may do the decent thing and get you a nanny.