“Coffee & orange juice are both good. Just not together. You might be able to stomach it, but if the shit doesn’t taste right why drink it? Pour that shit out.”
This the perfect description of what a boyfriend is for me right now. Mainly I don’t want to date someone who doesn’t understand my lifestyle or isn’t a parent.
I have to go to bed early because I have to wake up early. If I stay up all hours of the night then I struggle to be a parent the next day which isn’t fair to Jax and makes me start to resent that person I had to stay up for. I have to make breakfast every morning, usually before coffee, at least two times because the things that were made all of the sudden weren’t wanted. I clean the kitchen while said child wrecks various rooms. I clean various rooms until it’s time for lunch. The lunch routine is usually the same as breakfast. Then you have to try to convince them to take a nap so you can have a break or take a nap yourself.
That’s why those comments about “when you’re not busy can we/you..” or “when the baby goes to sleep can you/we..” crack me up. Uhm fuck that. I am never not busy. Those moments are my moments to do with as I please. I don’t want to feel obligated to give those moments to a guy who is going to deplete me more. I’ve said this probably a hundred times but I need to take care of myself in order to take care of my son. I can’t trust that a man is going to take care of me that would be silly.
Don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining and I’m not saying I am jealous. I actually have something that they can’t even comprehend or know they are missing until they have it. I like this life better. I think it suites me better. It’s also hard as shit, which I think isn’t something you can understand until you’re in it. That’s why when they say I’m tired, poor or busy I laugh at their lazy piece of shit. You don’t know the definition of tired until you’ve worked 40 plus hours a week, cooked, cleaned, raised a child just to be woken up after 10 minutes of being asleep then not sleeping the entire night just to repeat the cycle. You don’t know poor until every cent of your paycheck goes into just getting food for someone else, daycare, diapers, wipes and a new pair of shoes to replace the ones they just grew out of. Then spending some of your savings because you want to get that kid anything to make them smile. Even though you know after a few days that toy will be irrelevant.
It’s like my feminist side is peaking through now that I have to be the dad and the mom. The bread winner and the house keeper. I would love to have someone help me but it’s like I see all these men as weaker. Which sorry is just sooo not sexy. Great you want to sleep in and act like a child for the rest of your life? That’s just oranges, but I’m not going to mix it with my coffee.