Posted by Anonymous.
I feel terrible writing the things I said here, but I'm hoping that getting out the evil thoughts will feel better than letting it fester within me: I have a gorgeous little girl. She's bright, full of energy, and incredibly beautiful. The problem is, I hate being a mom. My career was just starting to take off when I (accidentally) got pregnant. Being newlyweds who eventually, probably wanted kids, we never considered NOT having the baby. I went into this thinking I would have a partner (I don't really), thinking my immature husband would start acting like an adult and taking some responsibility (he hasn't). He often works late. Yes, he's earning the money we use to pay for everything and that's a form of being responsible, but he works late because he goes in late and he goes in late because he stays up late playing video games or farting around watching TV (and ignoring the dishes, laundry, etc). So he's worthless in the morning and is often home too late to even see his daughter. I often wonder if he's not just stupid. I ask him to do something, he has to ask me a thousand questions to get the task done, and even then, he's most often fucked something up.
I'm exhausted. I'm sick of effectively having two children when I'm not sure I even wanted one. Now, I'm stuck. My career is sort of a strange one. Where we live, I can only really work freelance, so I'm trying to do that at home at night and on weekends to keep things afloat until I can work more. I keep asking my husband to just watch the baby and hang out with her so I can have a few hours to work at the weekends instead of in the middle of the night, but he doesn't really. He wanders off to play a video game or check his email. Or he brings her to me to say, "Hi." Of course, once she sees me, she doesn't want to just go back in the other room. Or he's suddenly inspired to do dishes and ignores the baby. Often he doesn't even know where she's gone (she's a year old so she gets around well and is into everything). I would leave the house to work but countless times he was supposedly "watching" her and then she's hurt herself, albeit not seriously, or he's forgotten what he was doing and then when I ask where she is, he says "she was in the bathroom with you!" (I wasn't in the bathroom) so I feel like I have to at least stay in the house to keep an eye on what's going on.
I know his shortcomings in this area have more to do with his discomfort with his role as a father than anything else, but I'm at my wit's end. I'm sick of staying up working until 3 am and in addition being the only person who gets up to comfort the baby when she cries at night. I'm sick of being the person who does nearly all of the work in the house, as well as nearly all of the work with our daughter. I'm sick of him acting like what I do all day is easy and all fun. I'm sick of telling him he's going to miss his train, which he almost always does, never mind that he should be taking one that's at least an hour earlier. I'm sick of trying to convince him that we can't afford to spend money the way he does. I'm sick of having to justify my needs and explain why I need a tiny bit of free time.
When I write down most of the stuff he does, it doesn't look like that big of a deal, but it's just the exhaustion of doing everything and having to redo or undo everything that he does and having to be the nag just to get him to even participate. It's his constant lack of attention to what's going on and why. Every day, he is eating away at my love for him. It's not unusual for me to think about how much I hate him and fantasize about being a widow. I try concentrating on the good stuff. I go away and come back filled with good feeling for him and the future and thinking I might even *gasp* sleep with him. He manages to kill those good feelings in less than 24 hours. For example, I stay up until the wee hours of the morn working several nights in a row in order to meet a deadline and at the same time take care of the baby all day and am the only one to do it at night. When the weekend comes, who gets up at 7 with the baby? Me. Who sleeps in? Him. When I insist he gets out of bed, he spends all day whining how tired he is (after 10 hours sleep) and insisting he needs a nap and is completely useless. I've tried being sweet. I've tried being mean. I've tried ignoring him being late and stupid. I've gone one strike and not done any of the housework. Nothing I do or don't do seems to change anything.
Enough about my husband. Like I said, I hate being a mom. I think it sucks. Yes, the smiles and the cuddles and the "mama"s and all that are great but I still think it sucks and is boring and sucks and sucks then is incredibly awesome then is boring and frustrating and sucks. I've finally come to terms with being responsible for someone else morning noon and night, but I had (have?) a career and I had a thousand things I wanted to do. I can't do any of those things any time soon, especially not without the support of a partner. It's driving me mad to be at home. I count the hours until my husband will arrive so I can have *a little* relief and adult conversation (though he's usually an hour or two later than he promises and often too late to even see the baby) and I count the time until the baby will sleep and I can just start working and ignore the man I never should have married.
I feel like I'm a terrible mother. I am just so bored. I don't think I talk to my daughter enough and I don't think I play with her enough. Maybe I'm just like my husband. I just don't know what to do with her. Every day I promise myself I'll do better tomorrow and every day, I feel like I'm falling down on the job. I can't muster the energy and enthusiasm to play and sing and come up with things to do. Whenever I look at old photos of her, I want to cry. She was so beautiful and spunky. She had this energy, like she just loved and was so excited about life. I'm afraid she's not like that anymore, or not as much as she was. I'm afraid I've ruined her. I don't know what to do. I feel like she'd be better off with someone else. Not my husband, certainly, but someone else. How can I be so awful when I'm fortunate enough to have a gorgeous, healthy, smart girl? How can I keep doing this and getting through every day?
I don't regret having my daughter because I love her so much. I do regret the rotten, resentful marriage I'm stuck in. I regret letting it get this bad and I regret that I don't think I even care enough to bother with therapy. And I regret that I can't be a better mother because my daughter deserves it.
If you got this far, and even if you didn't, thanks so much for allowing me to let off steam.