The Good Wife

I like to think that I am a good Mum. My kids are happy and clean, with full bellies. They go to music classes, regular play dates with little friends and enjoy the odd present (probably a bit too often). I am privileged to only have to work two days a week as a secondary school teacher. So not only do I have all the holidays off. I also have an extra three days a week with my two little uns. All thanks to my husband and him taking a job for a bit more money, a little bit further away.

When we made the agreement of 1) having number two relatively close to number one and 2) me being part time, we had this idea that life was going to be pretty swell. I was going to be mother earth, barefoot in the kitchen, cooking and the house would be spotless. The children would happily play with their shabby chic wooden toys and after they had gone to bed dead on 6:30pm. We would sit down over a home cooked meal, share a bottle of vino, and chat about our days adventures.

Then I gave birth. And the shit hit the fan.

I promise not to shout at you over silly things (yeah right)

I am not a good wife. I'm really not. Sometimes I am here in body but not in spirit. Sometimes my husband leaves the house and I am in my pyjamas and sometimes (OK all the time) he returns and guess what? I am in my pyjamas. I am yet to make him a home cooked meal, in fact we rarely share a meal together at all. And vino? Not a chance. I'm in bed by nine. At the very latest.

Our beautiful boy was conceived to provide our equally beautiful girl with a BFF. But what about us? How are we supposed to stay BFF's through sleepless nights and through bickering over daft things like whose turn it is to put the washing away? "Date nights" I hear you shout! Yes we have had a few. Two stand out. The first I slept through the film 'Wolverine' with my 3D glasses covering my tired eyes and the second? Let's just say the husband was a bit excited to be out and well. He got really drunk. And for those reading this who know my husband. We all know what that means #messy.

I am yet to strike a happy medium between being a 'good Mum' and a 'good wife'. I don't want to be an average Mum. I want to be there, in the moment, soaking up every tiny thing that happens. And it is hard having two really small children. There are times when I couldn't be any happier, watching them play, or cuddling me. And there are times? When I am screaming down the phone at my husband wondering where the hell he is. And why is he 7 minutes late so I can palm them off onto him.

I don't know what the solution is. I figure we need to ride this bit of our hectic lives together out. That in two years everything will have calmed down. Day to day life generally is getting better. Today the husband came home to a clean house, with the washing put away and two happy children I had managed to keep alive for 11 hours all by myself. Today I felt; I'm not a good wife, I'm not even a better than average wife, but I am certainly not a crap one.*

*Please note. I was still in my pyjamas. Baby steps*

How do you balance being a parent and a partner? Are there any easy solutions? 
If so please share!
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