I don't know why I look forward to weekends; it must be a holdover from my paying-job-and-no-kids days. When Paul is home, the workload is theoretically lighter but it feels heavier.
For example, when I'm the only parent in charge, it doesn't bother me much to be unshowered and unbreakfasted while I'm feeding and bathing the children. When there are two parents, it bothers me very much, especially if Paul has made his own shower and his own breakfast a priority, or if he's all crabby because he hasn't been able to: "I haven't even taken a shower yet," he'll say, ostensibly to the child asking to be played with, but actually to me, to communicate not only his extreme awesomeness but also his extreme suffering. I know it's a particular bad weekend if I have to stop myself from saying, "Oh, yeah? Well, welcome to my WHOLE GODDAMNED LIFE!" more than, say, ten times in a single day. He is not thinking, as I feel he should be, that I do this every day and that he should be supremely grateful that having a stay-at-home mom for a wife means that all he usually has to do in the morning is worry about his own selfish body. He's only feeling put-upon, and perhaps wondering why I run such a lousy household that a man can't relax with his newspaper and his pipe while the children play silently in a spotless nearby room.
By Sunday night, I'm glad that the next day is Monday and we can get back to normal. I can do things my usual way, and I don't have to get in a big knot about what Paul is or isn't doing. I can just do my job, and look forward to him coming home that night from his.
Shopping ideas for summer fun - Normally this time of year I’m buying a batch of Summer Survival Gear Treats. I like to buy a new CD for the driving back and forth to lessons and camp; a ...