I realize that being in the military is a tough and stressful job. I know that being gone all the time is probably hard. I know it's hard on those of us who are left behind. That doesn't mean you're any less responsible for the housework or the bills.
My husband is currently driving me crazy. I can clean the house, spend hours doing it, and he comes home and either trashes what I did get done, or he tells me that it's not good enough. I'm to the point where I'm protesting. I realize that I'm here more than he is, but I can't do it all, when I get no respect out of it in the end.
His mom does it. I should be able to do it too, right? No. I'm not wonder woman, and it's time for him to meet me halfway. I spent my entire day cleaning the house. Granted, it wasn't spotless by any means, but it was still a heck of alot better than it was, and in a matter of a couple hours, it was trashed again.
His idea of cleaning: drag the things out of the fridge or a room, because that might help me work on cleaning the fridge or that room, and then leave it there hoping I'll get the hint. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not the damn maid. He lives here too, and if he's going to drag the shit out, the least he could do is finish what he started. I'm tried of trying to keep things clean when all he's going to do is drag crap out, leave trash laying around, have his friends over and trash the place after I worked 6-8 hours trying to get things clean.
I feel under appreciated. It can always be better. I dont' get a, "Hey, thanks! That looks nice." No. I busted my butt one day to get this house clean so that he could relax when he came home, and what do I get? "There's a belt on the couch. Why is there a DVD laying right there?"
I retaliated. He left his crap laying all over the kitchen after I spent two or three hours busting my butt to clean up the last mess he made. I threw it all in his "Man Cave" and left it there. I wanted him to know what if felt like to spend time cleaning a room and then having it trashed in a matter of a few minutes.
I'm currently watching my sister's dog. He likes to pee on things and crap in places. Granted, it ticks me off. My husband goes off and threatens to kill the dog. He's not joking, which ticks me off even more. My sister's dog does that, and all hell breaks lose, but it's okay for his dog to hump the couch and leave stains all over it? Really? Really. The dog is 150 pounds. My sister's dog is 15 pounds. It's really frustrating.
I'm done cleaning until he can respect that I bust my butt to get this house clean. We have a semi-annual inspection coming up with our landlords. I'm embarassed to have them come in here. The sad fact is that I'll be the one cleaning up the mess, again. My parents came to visit this weekend, and I'm ashamed to have them over. I was never allowed to live like this. Neither was he. His mommy did everything for him, and now I can't get him to do it himself. He takes me for granted and that's still not enough. I don't think I'm being unreasonable. I'm to the point where enough is enough.