It's not my JOB!!!

It's not my job, that is how I feel most days. It might be unfair to the rest of my household. But on the average day, I feel like that with work and the rest of life. That the house is not my job. I don't mean this as "not my job" Like it's never my job. I mean it isn't just my job.

This is of course, maybe not true, or apparently everyone else in this house seems to think that's not true. Like having a severe allergy to something, the kitchen seems to fall to me, sometimes multiple times a day, even if I cook, it still seems to fall to me,solely, the responsibility to clean it up, either after myself, or after the others.

If it were up to my husband, only his laundry would be clean, we would never have clean sheets, and we would have to go along washing plates and silverware as we need them, because "putting them away" would mean they live in the sink in eternal filthyness. (there are the occasional moments of "hey babe, look what I did" which then require a good job and a pat on the back for loading the dishwasher)

If it were up to my Daughter, well, we would have pieces of paper covering the floor instead of carpet, and our underwear strewn from the front door, to the back. We would have tiny rubber bands from the rainbow loom as added decoration with the paper floor covering, and all we would ever eat was chocolate and Taki's (which are mexican chips, and so spicy they make her sleep walk if she eats to many).

On the weekends that my husbands boys are here, well this just falls into a whole new category, the loudness, and the super early weekend mornings, and the endless amounts of food that boys eat vs what girls do. It's actually probably a post for some other time...

Maybe I should clarify, I love them all dearly, I really do, and on average, on my weekday off from work, I don't always mind doing the laundry, cleaning the kitchen, cooking dinner, cleaning the kitchen again, and if I feel like it maybe cleaning up the bathrooms, and vacuuming, washing all the sheets, and then showering myself, and trying to help my daughter with 6th grade homework, that I seem woefully unprepared to help her with.

But the immature person in me, the one that is tired, the one that wants someone, anyone else to be responsible for feeding my family, that person really just wants to sit around and watch supernatural, well really the majority of shows on the CW, it could fill my day, I'd be happy, and my family would starve, and live in squalor.

I guess, really then it is my job, and I must go do it, so I'm off to shower myself, and then pretend like I know how to make a healthy well balanced meal, and hope I don't just give up and feed pizza rolls again, since all the other stuff is in the freezer, frozen waiting to be defrosted, and whipped up into some lovely meal that mothers on pinterest are more equipped to make than I am.

(please don't judge them for my venting ramblings, really they are both amazing, and my husband does so many other things, and treats me like a princess bringing me glasses of water, or cookies because I am to lazy to get off my ass and get them for myself. Sometimes that actually matters more, and sometimes I really wish that the frying pan that has been sitting in the sink for 3 days would be scrubbed and rinsed and put away!!! like really how does nobody else see that freaking frying pan????)