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2005-03-17 at 8:42 a.m.
blah blah blah blah

So it has been more than 3 months, that's no surprise. I came here because I needed to fucking vent more than I ever have before and for once.. I really have no one to talk to about it.

It's about my partner, of course. Sometimes I don't think I can live in this house any longer and still be sane, but I have nowhere to go. I'm 8 months pregnant, have 2 young boys, no job, etc. Yay, I do have a car, but what good does that do me? It's not big enough to live in.

Maybe it's just me and I am a hormonal bitch, but why can't he help me out here? Why do I have to feel like I live with a roommate who doesn't do shit? Why do I always have to get the kids up in the morning and take them to school while he sleeps? Why do I have to cook every meal and wash every dish? Why do I have to do the laundry every time, including his and not get a thanks? Aren't these his kids, too?

Why can't he give them a bath or make sure they take a shower? Why can't he cook dinner for everyone instead of ordering pizza? Why can't he come home and do something other than play poker on the computer or watch the stupid fucking movie channels?

It's not just the cleaning, for fucks sake. I tried to talk to him about this and all he can see it as is that he works all day long and busts his ass and brings the money home, how can I expect him to come home and continue to work? I can not get it through to him enough that it's not just the fucking cleaning. He never shows me that he wants to be in this fucking relationship.

He could help the kids with their homework? He could sit down and play a game with them? He could tell them to take a shower, or he could tuck them into bed. He doesn't do any of these things and hasn't done any of them since we moved into the new house.

Last night he came home from work and came downstairs to the kitchen and turned on Poker on the computer. He sat here and played Poker while I cooked dinner and fed the kids. As we were finishing eating, he went upstairs and spent 6 minutes in the bathroom taking a shit, then came back downstairs into the kitchen and ate the rest of the dinner I cooked, leaving the empty pan on the stove and his plate on the counter. After dinner he went upstairs into our bedroom and shut the door, watching tv. I got Josh a bath and into bed and went into our bedroom at 9:50 and he was passed out cold, snoring away.

See, this is his routine every night. When he gets home from work, all he does is plays Poker, takes an hour long shit and watches tv. Am I the only one to see something wrong with this?

Don't other working fathers also contribute to their households in ways other than financially? For some reason, I really thought they did. What will happen when I go on to get a job after the baby is old enough? Will I still be expected to work full time and come home and take care of the whole house and the kids and everything? It makes no sense to me?

Shit, what will happen when the baby comes, alone? I already feel like my days are full, how will I handle all the responsibilities along with a newborn? I feel like I am a fucking single mother expecting her third bastardly child. I may just as well be. I'd probably be happier.. and better off.

Then I wouldn't have the stress of feeling so fucking alone in a relationship. I do feel completely alone.. like, why the fuck do I even bother trying?

I talked to him about all of this this morning and all he could tell me in the end is that I do not respect him. Shit, newsflash Tangy! Cooking him meals, washing his clothes, taking care of his kids, carrying his fucking baby every single god damned day is in no way respecting him. Apparently I have to give him head every night for him to feel like he's getting some respect.

What more can I do for him to make him feel like I am respecting him? Seriously, what can I do that I do not do? I don't treat him bad, I just don't treat him like anything. We barely speak and when I do try to speak to him, he just looks at me like I'm an idiot and what I'm saying doesn't mean anything to him.

I told him that as every day goes by, I learn more and more that we are not supposed to be where we are right now. I meant even in this fucking relationship, much less expecting our third baby together and living in the same house. He agreed, but thought I meant it in a different way. He thought that when I said we were not supposed to be where we are right now that I meant we should be happy in our relationship. He thought I meant we should be excited and thrilled with the arrival of our upcoming baby and that we should be on cloud 9. I fucking wish.

I want to talk to him about our birth plans. I want to go car seat shopping with him. I want him to come with to get our Boppy Pillow and Diaper Bag. I want to get Pregnancy photos done with the both of us in them. I want to do my belly cast, but I want him to help and not miss out on those things, but our relationship is so fucked up right now, we will probably end up with no Boppy, a hand me down carseat and the belly cast kit will probably end up splinting a sprained ankle someday down the road.

He will probably still be too pissed off and stubborn when the time for the birth comes that he will put his shoes on and leave until it's over. He's totally like that.

I guess we have huge communication issues. I don't talk to him and he doesn't talk to me. I try to talk to him, like the conversation we had this morning, but sometimes I feel like everything I say to him goes in one ear and right out the fucking other.

All it comes down to.. to him.. is that he doesn't wash the dishes and vaccuum the house. Do that, Chris, and I will love you again.

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