My husband and I are living alone in NYC due to my work relocation. I am in tech and have always worked long hours. My husband is a mathematics graduate who had a hard time finding himself here, and as a result became the stay-at-home husband, taking care of the home, cooking, etc.
I was already plagued by mom guilt from the start. I had a terrible time breastfeeding, despite living among women who did it without a hitch. Going back to work made me very depressed, and I felt like I was “wrong”—wrong as in dysfunctional, unfit to be a parent at all, which meant that my work took a minor hit. After the shutdown, I was blessed to be able to work from home, the trouble being that “home” is a one-bedroom prison, occupied by the twins, us, and two feline gentlemen.
My husband constantly tells me that I just need to put on noise-canceling headphones and let him do his thing, and that they need to learn to play alone, otherwise we’ll be stuck with spoiled toddlers and that will be tougher. But knowing that they’re crying and I can’t hear them and am actively ignoring them just sends me over the edge, depression-wise. I just stare forward. I can’t concentrate on work. I can’t arrive at any solution.
I do not at all get the impression your husband is playing video games while the twins vainly shriek at him for attention, but I suspect you’re going to need to reshuffle some household tasks. I think you would be happier taking a break from work to feed the cats and make him a snack while he hangs out with the kids than you currently are, still not able to work, but hearing them shriek.
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