Responsibilities of a mother on maternity leave - personal experience

Someone will say, they say, furious with fat. Husband even brings a salary, but does not drive you to work. There are also such cases - the father of the family insists that the young mother engaged in something else, except for the children, to bring money to the family. As if maternity is not money. And as if she lost her earnings voluntarily. Did they do the children together? Nevertheless, the young mother was boiling, and she. Certainly, among our readers there are those who will agree with her position: "Recently, relatives of her husband came to see us at dinner: his sister and her husband. We sat at the table and had a very pleasant time: delicious food, laughter, easy conversation. In general, a complete relaxation. That is, they THEY so spent their time. I was in some parallel universe at that time. I parted the chicken into convenient pieces, smeared butter on the bread, pulled out "this nasty raisin from cupcakes", wiped my mouths, moved chairs, collected pencils from the floor, answered our two children for a lot of questions, went to the bathroom with the children (and when it was necessary them, and when it was necessary for me), wiped the spilled milk from the floor. Did I have time to eat something hot? The question is rhetorical.Photo:GettyImagesIf it had been just the three of us having dinner with the kids, I would have taken all this fuss for granted. But there were three other people at the table with me. They were perfectly healthy, able-bodied, not paralyzed or blind. No, maybe they were temporarily paralyzed, I don’t know. But I’m guessing they were okay. And yet not one of them lifted a finger to help me. It felt like we were sitting in the same limo, but there was a soundproof, opaque partition separating me and the kids. To be honest, I felt like I was at a different dinner. In hell. Why does everyone think it’s okay to treat my mother like a servant, nanny, and housekeeper all rolled into one? After all, I’m running around like a squirrel on a wheel 24/7, with no lunch breaks. And no paycheck, of course. And you know, if I had a babysitter, I would treat her better than my own family treats me. I would at least try to give her time to sleep and eat. Yes, I am the main parent. But I am not the only one! It is not such magic and sorcery to wipe a child's face. I am not the only one who can read fairy tales out loud. I am sure that children are capable of enjoying playing with blocks with someone other than me. But no one is interested in this. And I have to. It is difficult for me to say whose fault it is that I am treated this way. In my family, everything is arranged exactly the same. Father will be engrossed in conversation with his beloved son-in-law, paying absolutely no attention to the fact that while Mom and I are washing the dishes, the child has stolen a plate of cakes from the table and they have scattered all over the floor. My own husband prefers the role of a gracious host, which he happily plays in front of adults. But he does not like the role of a father during our joint outings. And it just drives me crazy. It's possible, of course, that the whole problem is actually in me. Maybe I should just stop coping with my responsibilities that were dumped on me with such glee? For example, I could cook dinner for three instead of six. Oh, there wasn't enough food for the guests? What a pity. Maybe you'll order pizza? What, there wasn't enough chair for Mom at the table? Oh, what should I do? She'll have to wait in the car. Or during a family dinner, I could pretend to have food poisoning and just lock myself in the bathroom. I could say that I need to go to bed and let someone else get ready for a walk.