It's time to hold a strike vote. With myself.

I am considering a strike.

strike

noun /strīk/  strikes, plural A refusal to work organized by a body of employees as a form of protest, typically in an attempt to gain a concession or concessions from their employer - dockers voted for an all-out strike - local government workers went on strike - strike action *courtesy of dictionary.com

Other than being organized by a body of employees, since I am only one, the definition fits. Being a mother and a wife isn’t easy, and it becomes increasingly harder when you are pretty much the expected person to do the domestic chores. Because this is my blog, and my rant, I won’t accept ANY responsibility for making it this way either, so shutthefuckup if you have any comments regarding this being my fault. Just sayin’.

It’s not just becoming a routine, it IS the routine. Nothing gets done if I don’t throw a tantrum or do it myself. Well, I guess to be fair, I cant say ‘nothing’…because every so often my hubby will do some tidying* and look at me like an excited puppy expecting a doggy treat for a job well done. But that’s the exception, not the rule.

*tidying: move things around and pretend it’s less cluttered. Like throw all his clothes into the closet and shut the door. Impressive.

So I am thinking that perhaps a strike is needed. You know, absolute refusal to do anything around the house to see if I can ‘gain concessions from my employer’… which might sound a little sexist, referring to my hubby as my employer, but there are days when it sure feels like I have two full time jobs.

I want to come home from work and relax (like he does), I want to sit and watch TV while toilets are being scrubbed (like he does), I want to sit on the patio with a pint while the vacuuming is being done (like does) and I definitely want to enjoy my dinner while the baby is being fed (like he does). And don’t get me started on the times when HE does dishes. Cause I’ll go into a long diatribe of how I am back in there 5 minutes later finishing it.

I sound like a whiney baby, I know that. He does take the kids for walks and he does take out the trash (when reminded), and he does make an effort to help out when I am losing my mind. But it just never seems enough. And I need a break

So how do you accomplish this? I need some advice.And if it includes copious amounts of wine, you will be my bestie.