Being me

I love my husband. See?

But it makes me CRAZY that being the man of the house, he has a different set of standards. Now, we've discussed this, so I'm not dissing him behind his back. This is an open discussion - a revolving door if you wish - that is often revisited.

In the morning, he gets up, gets ready for work and leaves. At work, he works. When he comes home, dinner is ready. He does a lot of chores in the evening - getting kids ready for bed, helping to clean up the kitchen, etc. But I'm still bothered.

I'm bothered because in the morning, after I get up and get ready for work, I still face getting the kids up, fed, medicated, dressed, school bags ready, to school, to grandma's, etc. At work, I not only work, but I take care of the insurance stuff for the medical bills, schedule kids' appointments, and decide what's for dinner. After work, I pick them up, make dinner, do the homework assignments with them, etc. before he gets home.

Now, I know that he works longer hours than I do. And he really is an amazing husband and father. I guess it's just the feminist in me. I wonder what it would feel like to not have to get someone/something else ready other than me.

Yet, even as I formulate that thought, I decide that it's a feeling I DON'T want to know. Because if I didn't have them to take care of, who would I be? I wouldn't be me. And being me is pretty sweet.