Parenting twins is hard. Parenting two sets at 24 while working full-time? Nearly impossible. Add a husband who treated parenting like my solo project, and you’ve got a recipe for burnout. “The kids prefer you,” he’d say, disappearing to “destress” while I managed bedtime routines alone. Yet he still expected spotless floors and gourmet meals.
After months of silent resentment, I snapped. One Saturday morning, I handed him the baby monitor and car keys. “I’m getting coffee,” I said. “Back Sunday.” His shocked face almost made me stay – almost.
When I returned, the disaster zone spoke volumes. Formula spills crusted on counters, toys covered every surface, and my husband looked like he’d aged ten years. His solution? A text saying he was “taking space” at his mom’s. Online reactions were split – some called me irresponsible, others pointed out he’d been irresponsible for years. The truth? His reaction proved what I feared: he didn’t want to be a partner, just a critic. Now I know – and can plan accordingly.
