Dear Husband

I love you, but you hurt me more than you make me happy. You gripe and even yell when I need your help with our sweet girl, and all you want is to play the piano. I understand it's your passion, but I need our daughter to be your passion too. I'm tired of giving her to you and you ignore her and let her scream on your lap while you play the piano. Or while you play video games. She's three months, and she gets so excited when you come home. Occasionally you pay attention to her, and I swear nothing could make her happier. It breaks her heart for you to ignore her the majority of the time, like you do. Tonight I thought maybe I could try baking again. I was on the path to becoming a pastry chef before I got pregnant. It's been a long time since I've made anything... I tried to take her to feed her so I could finish making cookies uninterrupted. You said she was fine. I start making peanut butter cookies and surprise, I can hear her screaming from upstairs. You bring her down and start yelling for me to take her. All I want is a minute to finish the batter. You say you'll just finish it for me. But I didn't make these cookies just to make them, this is me trying to reignite my love for baking. I've been feeling so lost, unlike myself. I thought this could help. But I give in, and I let you finish them while I feed her. I can't stop the batter from mixing while you're in the living room, and I got tired of asking for your help when you were just being an ass. When you finally took her back, the batter had dried out and I've never been more disappointed in my life. I should have just thrown out the batter, but I was desperate for this to work. I've NEVER messed up peanut butter cookies before. I added an extra egg and tried to put them on the pan, they looked awful. They baked quickly and when I took them out there was a thick layer of oil over the entire pan. I threw them out and went to the laundry room so you couldn't hear me cry. I cried until I passed out in the floor. You're a good man, but you've become distracted. When you don't have your phone, or your ps4, or your piano, you're the most loving and attentive you've ever been. You've let them take over your life though, and maybe someday I'll get through to you. But that day will not be today, or tomorrow. Because I don't think you'll really understand until you realize our baby girl has grown up and you didn't even notice, and you wish you could take what you're doing back. Hopefully, until then, I can keep my sanity. I can feel I'm losing myself.