Mr Mum

I was going to start today's post with the words "I love my husband but..." however I can't do that. Using the word "but" in a sentence erases everything you said before it so perhaps I shall say it like this: I love my husband and he is very skilled at frustrating the high heavens out of me. Yep that works, on with the story.

I love my husband and he is very skilled at frustrating the high heavens out of me. He has been on "holidays" for over three weeks now and while he has done some sporadic work in that time, mostly he has just been waking up every day and doing what he pleases. He has happily played in his shed, visited friends, helped other people out at the drop of a hat and generally fart arsed around with a smile on his face. I was OK with that. He works his backside off earning the income for our household so I thought I would let him enjoy himself and have a bit of a break. I also had this ridiculous notion that he would realise that I would also like to have a break and that somehow he would wake up one day and say "You know what Babe, I am going to be Mr Mum today and you just do whatever you please". I am such a fool sometimes.

Of course, this didn't happen at all. I don't know why I set my expectations so high because it only ever ends in frustration. Tired of waiting for him to offer to be Mr Mum and with the end of his holidays looming, I just outright requested it yesterday with a tone that indicated his refusal would result in WWIII. Honestly, you would have thought I had asked him to cut off his left testicle the way he resisted the idea. I frustratedly pointed out that I would not be sitting around with my feet up sipping champagne all day, I would actually be doing the BAS and Tax paperwork for his business. Still, his eagerness to look after his son was underwhelming to say the least (Soph was at Kindy so he only had Elliott to worry about) and he walked around with a frown and a a scolding look on his face all morning. Finally I could take it no more and after an argument that looked a little something like this...

...we resolved to work as a team to get the job done (insert Bob the Builder theme song here). Hubby's attitude did improve as the day went on and when I left the house last night to go to Circle, I was confident that he would handle all the Mr Mum responsibilities for the evening just fine. I did however remind him to please clean up the kitchen and clear up the toys and mess around the house. He nodded in agreement and I left the house so chuffed that we were on the same page. Then I came home...

Mat was playing in his shed and I must say that I was thrilled to see the dishes had been done. Unfortunately, that is where the Mr Mum-ness stopped. The house looked worse than before I left with toys strewn from one end to the other and polystyrene blocks creating an impressive obstacle course as I made my way in the front door. I went down to check on the kids and found Sophie sound asleep snoring her little head off. I then checked on Elliott and saw that he had once again stripped off his PJ's in an attempt to abandon his nappy and wet the bed. Then he wriggled a bit and I could hear a rustling sound. What on Earth? I thought to myself....then I took a closer look. Mat had stapled and sticky taped Elliott's nappy on! 

At that stage, I could only laugh and realise that while hubby had not been Mr Mum to the fullest extent, he had been the best version of Super Dad there is. Now if you will excuse me, I am off to fetch the scissors and cut Elliott's morning nappy off.