Isn't it ironic...

Beloved has actually FORBIDDEN me to clean the house.

Okay...lemme backtrack a bit. Yesterday, I had a meltdown. *wry smile* Yeah, I have them a lot, don't I?

For the last week, I have been running Boy hard in the mornings in the hopes that he would take a good nap in the afternoons, letting me get some of my own time. It hasn't been working too well...Boy catches a 30 minute nap on the ride home and doesn't go back to sleep, which means I'm going and going and going...
Add to that, I haven't been getting enough sleep, and I'm already edgy.

I always try to do a few chores every day to try to keep up with the house. Grab a few minutes during a video to clean the bathroom, let Boy "help" me wash the kitchen, and the trash HAS to go out every Tuesday, regardless of whateverelse is going on. *shrug* I just don't have the luxury of a DAY I can clean...Boy is not cooperative with that, and I certainly don't expect Beloved to do mundane chores! So, this has been my coping mechanism for two years.

Except, now, we have roommates.

That's supposed to make things easier, right? More people to divide the chores, right?

Our roommates have different habits and don't have children. Leaving everything to one day worked for them in their own place, and they want to continue that pattern now.

On top of that, things pile up in the foyer, in the hallway, around the house. Things I don't know what to do with. Things I don't want responsibility for. Things that others insist on taking care of themselves...later. I can't say I'm not included...I contribute plenty to the STUFF that needs to go somewhere else to be put away. My complaint is when I AM putting stuff away and I get stalled by others' stuff.

Yesterday, we had company coming over after dinner. Naturally, I wanted the first floor at least to look good. I'd done the dusting and cleaned the kitchen thoroughly on Wednesday. My plan for Thursday was to come home from playgroup with Boy and take care of the first floor bathroom as well as the sweep/mop of the floors, and make dinner..

I got home, and Mylie had checked off the bathroom. Awesome! One less thing I had to do! I got Boy done for a nap, got dinner started, and had to pee. The bathroom had bits of toliet paper on the floor (remember, Boy is not quite two...he is potty training and likes toliet paper), hair stuck on the side of the sink, and just wasn't DONE the way I would have done it.

Following the request of her Master, I directed my concern to alder rather than her. He said he'd talk to her about it. Fine. I also asked what was to be done with their bags in the hallway, as Beloved had specifically asked me that the hallway be cleared. Instead of a direct "put them here" I was told to leave them for later. Okay...I was frustrated, but okay.

I started working on the sweeping just as Boy woke up. He was in a whining/tantruming mood. It grated on my frayed nerves. Company was coming in two hours, Beloved would be home in an hour, and NOTHING was done to perfection. (oh, I'm pmsing, too.) I put Boy on my bed, dragged the camping gear into the attic, get scratched on nails Beloved had left exposed for two years, and broke down.

I yelled a Boy, picking him up and putting him in front of the television. I called Beloved and said I just couldn't do it and I was going to cancel the gathering...he said not to, so I yelled at him. I cried and screamed that I wasn't getting help, that I couldn't do it all, that I just want some time to myself...!

Beloved told me to calm down, he was on his way home, everything would be fine... Beloved's mother arrived about the same time and distracted Boy, and I think Mylie had gotten scolded because she did a quick redo of the bathroom before disappearing again. Halder called me and began saying we should revisit the chores, that I didn't have to worry about all of it...

I broke into tears again and said I would talk about it later. I escaped to the bedroom and cried. I felt worthless, bratty, and like a complete failure. Beloved works and provides for us, and "all" I have to do is take care of Boy and the house. (Yes, I know that's not a small job, but 1950s wives make it look so fucking easy!) I can't keep my side of the bargin, I can't stop the meltdowns, I can't take care of anything. I don't deserve Beloved's collar, let alone his patience and praise!

I managed to calm down enough to write an apology to Halder and Mylie as well as Beloved before curling up and crying myself into exhaustion.

Beloved and Halder got home...I guess they'd talked on the phone the whole commute about what to do with the tears at home...and Beloved woke me. There was still enough time to clean up, get dressed, and even eat before our guests arrived...

We played Cranium and had a good time. I laughed and was able to pretend it was all okay. After everyone left and Boy was to bed, I went to finish folding laundry. Beloved, Halder, and Mylie were laughing downstairs. Once again, I was the only one seeing work that had to be done...There was NO WAY I was going downstairs. I didn't want to fall apart again.

Beloved finally came up and noted my sullen demeanor. He talked about the new rules regarding chores. He explained that each couple had different ways of handling chores (duh) and that while he was very happy with how I've been keeping the house, it wasn't working out well for everyone.

So, I've been told to change. I am now ONLY ALLOWED to do six chores a week, not counting cooking and cleaning. If I do cook, I am NOT ALLOWED to take care of the dishes, I'm to just let them pile up in the sink. If the other chores don't get done until the end of the week, I am to ignore them.

Do you have any idea how hard and harsh that is???? Boy and the house are my last responsibilities, and now I'm being told I can't even take care of the house the way I would like to. I feel sick inside.