If you'd like to use this space to vent or rant or tell the stories/secrets/confessions of your dangerous maternal (or paternal!) mind, send me an e-mail and you too can enjoy the refuge of the Basement...
Coparenting is crap.
You think that you and your partner will share duties, and even though you'll be the SAHM, once your husband gets home from his job, you'll BOTH be parents and will both have long discussions about all the important parenting decisions and you'll agree to be interchangable when you are bothin the house (minus the boobs of course). It's a big lie, just like when they say breast feeding doesn't hurt.
It's you, and you alone. You're the one who's going to have to deal with the babies all day long and manage to also do the dishes AND the laundry AND make dinner AND change your tampon, all without going crazy.
Your husband will come home from work and be all smiles for the babies and kissy and you'll put the older one down to bed, who will get fussy because he misses his daddy during the day and 10 minutes of daddy time isn't enough for him, which sets off husband, who says things like "Why does this kid cry all the time?" or "All I want is to be able to come home and relax."
You bite your tongue, heat up his dinner, and resolve to put the toddler to bed before husband gets home to make life easier for everyone. Because you're tired of him not understanding. Not understanding that a 20-month-old needs more than 10 minutes of daddy time. That dinner doesn't make itself. That you haven't had a shower in two days because their naps aren't coinciding and that you just want to go to bed when the toddler does.
But you can't. Because husband needs to "decompress" before taking over with the infant so you can get a 3-hour stretch of sleep before the first of three night feedings begins. He will sleep from 10 to 6 because he needs to be "sharp" for work, and it's his paycheck that allows you this luxury of being a stay-at-home mom. The luxury you gave up your career for. The luxury of living on one salary and cutting coupons and eating pasta four nights a week.
It will all come down to you. There is no co-parent. Even on the weekends and nights, all the responsibility will be yours, UNLESS "someone at work" tells your husband about some new sleeping/feeding/swaddling technique, all of a freaking sudden he wants to change the routine.
Sorry, pal. Momma's game, momma's rules.