What's wrong with this picture?

Lastnight I went to bed at 5am. I woke at 10am! Thank you for kids who sleep in! Actually no, they were awake since 9am! I had to get up and get them food and settled and with one on my lap fell back asleep for another 45mins or so.

My husband went to bed the same time.

Of course I am up and about teaching and being involved with my kids and reading a novel and blogging some and he sleeps until 3:45pm Friday evening!!!

Get's up, had cold cereal. Played with his laptop. Took a shower and told me he was going to play some sort of game with friends.

I still have my kids. they snack, and eat lunch and one took a nap , while I entertain the 4yr old.

I do laundry.

I make dinner.

He is still out by the way and I can tell you, I'll brush teeth, wash faces, read stories and tuck kids in and he wont be back in time to say goodnight to them.

I'll finish laundry and do email and he'll come home to come laud me about the fun he had.

Well he wont want sex tonight since aunt flo is visiting.

However if it was another night....you could see why I would not want to right?

This day happens often in our home. These add to the reasons why I'm pissed. Because I want a husband who is involved in my life and a father involved in the children's lives.

Sigh.

Are my expectations too high?

Is it too hard for him to even come in one day and say, he love, come sit and talk with me. I want to know your day today.

And so it continues.

Maybe if I write about it, I wont blow up in anger.....maybe.

They come violently

The tears do.

There's no warning when they might come, but they come and I'm wracked, brought to my knees, curled up. Sometimes my mouth opens and nothing comes out. Sometimes the howl of pain. I try to stop it. I must stop crying because I can cry myself into exhaustion. And that's not a good feeling.

Tonight they came because of memories of growing up alone.

In a cold and unforgiving orphanage.

The tears brought accusations: 'This is why I can't be a good mother to my own children", 'This is why I can't be a good wife to my husband", "This is why, I can't be a good person"....

and the questions: ' Why does it have to be this hard to fight to learn to be good?' 'Why is it so hard to force myself to change?'

It wrenches.

...and then the force of the tears die a little

I can breathe

Little more sobs

...then the sigh.

Not a sigh of relief or one of those sweet sighs you get. Just a sigh.

I'm ok now and tomorrow I"ll try being a better wife and mother and person.

Maybe God will meet me.

He promised to.