Wednesday, July 14, 2010

True Wife Confessions 31 days in July

Confession #301

I really am all healed up from giving birth, I'm just not going to tell you that because this is the only time in our relationship you have given me affection without expecting sex in return.

Confession #302

Just because you are older than me, that does not mean that you know everything. It may be possible that I know more about a subject than you do. I however, do not feel the need to rub your face in the fact that I know more about it than you. Just because you feel like an idiot, that does not give you the right to be a dick.

Confession #303

When I visit my family and friends back home do not constantly call me to talk about nothing. They live 1000 miles away and I see them 10 days a year, you get the other 355. Do not be so greedy for my time. There is also no need to check and see what I am doing. I am a responsible adult (unlike you) and can have fun without getting into trouble. My old friends (the ones that happen to be men) are not a threat to you. I have known them for years and if I had wanted to be with any of them I had plenty of opportunity in the past. Stop being so jealous and controlling. I am more likely to leave you for that than for an imagined affair.

Confession #304

I wouldn't seem so jealous if you didn't flirt all the time. With
everyone. I trust you....really I do. I know you won't do anything.
But it is just so annoying especially when others point it out to me.
You are engaged remember? And I do have feelings. Try to remember
that.

Confession #305

How do I tell you that I hate your son? I knew you had a child when we started dating. I married you knowing that this part of your life was included in the package. I counted myself lucky that you and his mother had never been married, had been apart since before his birth. Little did I know how much I was going to hate knowing that you and I would never experience a first pregnancy together. And now? Now that we are days away from the 1st anniversary of our first infertility treatment and still not pregnant, knowing that you have a 12 year old oops? I feel so broken and incomplete. You are smart enough and sensitive enough to never bring up her pregnancy unless I ask and for that I'm greatful. But it kills me to know that if we do finally get pregnant, none of it will be new and exciting to you. You've been there and done that. I don't blame you, though. For some reason, I blame your son...the physical representation of this past that I can never truly be a part of. I welcome him into my home, I've tried to help raise him. I clothe him and feed him, using my own money, and attend his recitals and parent-teacher meetings, but I'm still just the step-mom and sometimes that sounds an awful lot like when I used to get introduced as "dad's girlfriend." My opinion is never asked. Never mind the degree in education and child-development, ignore the fact that I was a nanny to three children for years...more of a mother to them than their own mother, I couldn't POSSIBLY have any information to offer, experience to share, advice to provide to you and her, who have never raised a child, who were only children, who never so much as babysat for an afternoon. I feel shut out. And sometimes, just sometimes, it makes me hate you just a bit too.

Confession #306

I love you dearly but the attention I got from another guy the other day was
enough to make me think about what it might be like to be with some one
else.

Confession #307

Being married to you is like having a roommate. We don't have sex, but we laugh alot. We don't kiss or do anything intimate, but we watch TV together. You are a kind man, and there is so much wonderful about you. But I married you because I wanted a lover, not a roommate.

Confession #308

I love you for what you've become and how you have taken me to places so amazing I can't describe BUT....

if you don't stop thinking that because I go to school full time, that I don't work. I clean your damn house, wash your damn clothes, cook your damn food (when I'm not at school trying to better myself), have sex with you when I'm not exhausted and take out the damn trash. What do you do? Work. Yay for you. I worked while you went to school and now I get "the look" when you don't have any clean underwear! Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe that I, too, would like to come home to a clean house with my clothes put away and the trash already taken out? I don't guess you have. Where's my clean underwear? In the washer, waiting ever so patiently for ME to put it in the dryer. Where are my clean dishes? In the dishwasher, again waiting for me, because apparently, taking 5 minutes to put them away, distracts you from more important things, like watching tv.

I realize that you work hard and I do appreciate what you do but appreciate what I do, too. Please notice what I do is way more important that what you do sometimes. I notice that you keep the grass cut and the dog happy, so notice when I clean that damn house to perfection - for you.

Confession #309

Dear Husband,

I hate you. I really do. Everytime you leave the house I hope you die in an accident. I've even thought about 'tweeking' your brakes on your motorcycle. You wonder why we have no sex life. Did you ever have sex with a drunk. It is no fun. Last time you even said "can you pretend you are enjoying this?" You are a lazy lazy man, yet always complain about how I clean the house or cook dinner. Why don't you try doing either one once?? We have 2 children - that you have never once changed thier diaper, bathed or put to bed. Yet you tell me that I am lazy and fat. Why am I fat? In hopes that you won't want to have sex with me. Oh. I do get bonuses - twice a year - that I don't tell you about. My mom is saving the money for me so that I can leave you and hopefully find some love in this life

Confession #310

I love that you care for my child as though she were Ours. You help with vomit duty and everything. You are my best friend and I love you immensely but please for the love of all that is holy, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY KITCHEN. Do not question my preparation methods and do not compare my cooking to that of your mother's. It just makes me want to slam your head in the oven. And, if I don't ask for help, don't just assume you know how to do it better than I. Because you don't.
Ah, I feel better already.