So my first Mother's Day was spent at my mom's. Our power was out due to a faulty breaker and it was cold, so I took Lycan to my mom's. Husband was home, but we called each other. His Mother's Day plans were ruined, but it was due to circumstances.
Father's Day, I had originally planned on getting him a bust of Odin, the All-Father. Perfect, right? His Patron, an All-Father, on Father's Day. But that plan was blown out of the water by my emergency surgery. I only have one night off this week, and after working for 7 hours, taking care of Lycan for 9 hours after that, I was still excited to put my plan into action. So I bought him some donuts, I cleaned up the house, took care of the ferret, brushed my hair, shaved my legs, cooked an awesome dinner. Figured when he came home from taking care of his mom's dog, I'd surprise him with the dinner. Then we'd have sex and watch Hansel and Gretel.
Then this morning, on my night off, I was going to wake him up with breakfast.
Nope. I did the work and waited. I waited and waited and waited. Finally about 8:30 pm, I gave up and went to bed pissed off and hurt. It's nice to know that he'd rather spend his first Father's Day with his old dog and some estranged co-worker that he hasn't seen in years, than spend it with his wife.
All I want to do is cry.
Happy Fucking Father's Day, Asshole.
It's funny, all I hear from family members is how much of a great father and good man he is, but never anything about what a good woman, wife, or mother I am.
That I should count my blessings for having him. No one ever tells him to be thankful for me.
I wonder what that says about their opinions of me? Apparently, I'm not good enough for him. After yesterday, I certainly feel unappreciated.