Poor Old Cinders

The first few blissful weeks where it feels like we've been playing house, have passed. The festive fun and holiday shenanigans are over. Living together is no longer something that's been long anticipated and envisaged as a cosy love nest. It's a reality. Mostly it's a really lovely reality but like anything else, there is slightly sour note that comes with the sweet overtones - nothing is perfect.

Let me just set out my stall before I say anything negative or make any statements that sound like they have come straight from the latest edition of An Idiots Guide to Being a Nagging Girlfriend. TB is the best. He is such a peach and I love living with him. While I'm about to... well, moan - that doesn't take away from the fact he is the best thing since sliced bread. This post is about what is annoying me. Not him. I dread to think what his version of this post would read like.

So what's up? I'll start with the domestics. Apart from the hoovering and taking the bin out (which I have to ask him to do as I seem to be the only one that fills it up) I am doing everything. Every sodding thing. This includes (and is not limited to) the cooking and tidying up afterwards (loading and emptying the dishwasher), washing the clothes - hanging them up and putting them away, ironing, making breakfast and lunch (ready for him to take to work with him), the food shopping and cleaning the bathroom. This is all partly my own fault though.

At the moment I am working from home and so it's easy for me to stick on a washing or empty the dishwasher when I've got 5 or 10 minutes. TB works a longer day than me, so I don't mind that. The breakfast and lunch prep, well -  I don't have to do that - but it saves money and is healthier. If I need to chop up some fruit for my breakfast then it's not that big a deal to just do double and stick some in a tupperware box for him.

I like to cook and the control of making the meals (making sure they are healthy) is not something I am willing to give up. See - there's not much left for him to do! So what the chuff am I complaining about.

Well, when we are together in the flat and jobs need done I feel like I constantly need to ask and point out what needs done. Yesterday we were both in the kitchen. I was tidying up, putting shopping away and I asked him to empty the dishwasher. He did so and was about to sit down when I pointed out the dirty dishes that needed loaded. "You didn't say put the dishes in. You just asked me to empty the dishwasher", he said.

What? Are you actually being serious. I nearly lost the fucking plot right at that second. My face must have been a picture. I'm not going to shout at him and tell him what to do though. I'm not his bloody mother. I walked out the kitchen and took a moment in the bedroom, trying to calm myself. He came through a moment later (after having loaded the dishwasher). "What's wrong?", he asked. Did I really have to explain? I told him that he was being totally unreasonable and it wasn't my job to give him a tick list of things that needed done. He said he was joking. Now, here's the thing. I know he was joking but if I he could have gotten away with it, he would. That is taking the piss, good and proper.

He went onto say that he knew he wasn't doing enough to help out and would try harder. Okay - fair enough. I can't ask more than that. I also need to hold back a bit but it's hard. I want to live in a harmonious house and that means that things need to get done and I'm not going to wait until things get into such a mess that sorting it out will take ages and I'll end up doing the lion's share anyway.

It's a tricky one; getting the balance right. If anyone has any tips then I'd love to hear them.

There's a whole other are that I want to talk about. About living in a new city and trying to make my own life and routine - while TB already has his. I'm missing my old flat and life. Last night, Saturday night, I went to the gym.What is that all about? What a total loser. I've got lots to say on that which I'll save for another day.

For now, I'm off to get dinner in the over and do some ironing. Aaaaaaaaargh!