My poor, poor husband...

***heavily sarcastic ranting on*** how he has it bad. He goes to work all week (well, 4 days) and has the long weekend to recover, and I have the nerve to ask him to help out more with the baby! Who do I think I am????

Well, I'll tell you who I am. I am an overstressed mother of an eight-month-old who is now teething and trying to learn to crawl, which makes for not very much sleep at night. I'm also PMS-ing like crazy, so rational thought is not always high on the list. But I have worked out the numbers.

He does help out with the baby on the three weekend mornings he's home (that's Friday, Saturday and Sunday), by taking the baby after I've breastfed him around 7am. He then feeds and changes him as needed until I get up around 10 or 11. So that's 3 hours times 3 days a week, which is 9 hours out of ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY EIGHT hours in a week. That's 5.35% of the week. Even if I say 11 and give him credit for the extra hour, that's still only 7.14%.

I did tell him that unless he starts making an effort to make the weekends closer to 50/50, I'm not even going to be thinking about going back to work. Because there is no way I can work 40 hours a week, then be picking up the slack for the other 128 hours (oh, wait, minus his 12, so 116 hours) without help.

So when someone complains about not having gotten any sleep last night to the one person in the house who hasn't gotten sleep in three nights (and whose first sleep in a week before that was 4 days ago), it pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.

The VERY least he could do is turn on the baby monitor and at least listen for Little M when he's upstairs and I'm busy pumping milk for the baby to drink. Or he could turn on the monitor and listen for the baby when he gets up and goes downstairs at early o'clock in the morning so that I can sleep in till late o'clock.

Waiting for me to get up and bring the baby down to force him to spend time with his son doesn't even really count as far as I'm concerned, because I shouldn't have to force him, he should want to be able to spend time with his son.

OK, while we're on complaining, why is it that the very same baby who sits there only wanting to eat 1/3 of the dinner (of baby food) that I've nuked and none of the dessert (1/2 container of banana baby food) will scarf it all down AND an additional 1/2 container of peaches when Mommy is feeding him. Mommy must have the magical quality needed to feed the baby. I believe in the non-magical world it is called "patience".

All right, that's enough off my chest for now.
***heavily sarcastic ranting off***

You may all now feel tremendously sorry for the man who had the misfortune to marry the mess that is me.