Growing Up Beside You

Sometimes I feel that my eldest daughter has more common sense than I do.

8 year old daughter was upset and crying at bedtime and it transpired that she feels inadequate and not able to do the things that eldest daughter can do. That others think less of her. She questioned herself and her capabilities.

I listed and agreed the strengths that eldest daughter displays and discussed the amount of praise she seems to generate from many sources for her behaviour and personality. They cannot be played down or dismissed.

Then I continued to list and praise the character of my 8 year old, her eyes lighting up when I tell her that even though she maybe a messy and disorganised person, she genuinely is the funniest person I have ever encountered. Her quick wit from such an early age, her adult sense of humour, her ability to speedily make light of an upsetting situation in exactly the right way is something I couldn't do.
I admit that she sometimes drives me to the brink of insanity, but if I am there because of another reason, she is usually the only one that can bring me back.

I tell her stories of her toddling about, cracking me up, as she was walking and talking way too early. She was the child that phoned the police every time she managed to get near the telephone unsupervised. She was the one that hid bread, cheese and margarine at the bottom of her wardrobe and we didn't find it before the field mice. She is the one that screamed loudly one new years eve, just after I had settled down with my first glass of red wine, to reveal the blood pouring from her perforated eardrum, cotton bud in hand. She is the child that climbed up the decorating step-ladders left in the bathroom by Granddad and helped herself to a bottle of camomile lotion that she subsequently drank.  The child that was messing on the stairs with an umbrella, the child that I had to tell to be careful in case she fell, seconds before slipping myself and breaking my foot. She was the child who got up excitedly in the early hours, while the rest of the house slept, to go to the holiday suitcases, all packed and ready to help herself to a full box of Calpol sachets. I tell her how important these memories are to me, how many times I have told these stories to friends and after the initial shock or upset or commotion caused, that we have giggled and commented on her sparkiness and sense of adventure.

I remind her that yes, she may be considered lazy by others, but she has always been on a different level with intelligence and could easily reap the awards that eldest receives if she could be bothered. I pointed out that yes, she would in fact look smarter for school and have perfect immaculate hair and polished shoes, if she could get out of bed swiftly in the mornings, without being asked fifteen times. I highlighted that her organisational skills are definitely not one of her strengths, but does she really care?

I also remind her that all the people around her love her exactly as she is and wouldn't dare want her to change even the slightest.

She is a "mini-me." I'm terrible. My reputation for disorganisation and messiness, for being scatty and late, precedes me. More importantly, I could care not.  I have never really been one to care about what others think. Except the ones really really close to me. No doubt, 8 year old will develop the same brazenness if she hasn't started already. Smiles concluding the end of our chat.

I'm so grateful for eldest daughter (just turned 10 years old) as she is like my second in command, ahead of OH, in fact, she could easily run the household. I ask her opinion on things that she shouldn't even be concerned with, rely on her to remind me of appointments, birthdays and shopping lists. She knows who is doing what and why. There are times I feel guilty as it feels like a role reversal and that she is the parent. I have justified it now to ease the guilt by accepting that we are just different personalities. She being the prim and perfect all rounder who will try to excel at everything she tries with 100% effort, without a hair out of place. Whereas I, well, I'm not even sure who I am yet. When I grow up I want to be like her, but for the time being, I will be the messy, loud, chaotic one with unkempt hair, giggling over the 8 year old's comical antics.

I heard a song yesterday morning for the first time that I thought of later on when talking to 8yr old girl.

Growing Up Beside You - Paolo Nutini (YouTube link)

I don't always get the way you feel,
But now I've learned to live with that.
It's like I'm a part of something real.
I was hittin' the bottle, now I've broken the seal.
Looks like I'm growing, I'm growing up beside you

And the sun sets the scene,
While the rain misses me.
And all the time I'll be growing, growing up beside you.

What I Tried To Say...

But you wouldn't listen.

I have dragged my children up over the last few years and they have trusted me every step of the way.
I broke up their family and made their father leave home. I took away the option for them to see him every day.

They watched and listened to my marriage crumbling, seeing and hearing things that children shouldn't, causing them nightmares about my safety.

They didn't blame me when they got un-invited to parties and became the "talked about" kids of the school

They didn't complain when they had to give up ballet, tap, hip-hop, drama, horse riding, football and swimming lessons when I had to go to work full-time and leave them with a child-minder instead.

They didn't breathe a word about their clothes looking worn and feeling smaller when I struggled to buy them any new belongings.

Even though they couldn't hide their disappointment at missing school fayres, birthday parties, and school discos etc due to my tiredness or being stuck at work, they didn't hold it against me.

They didn't compare their new birthday and Christmas budget with their previous years.

They didn't complain when their home was repossessed and they had 24 hours to find and move into somewhere new.

They helped pack up the old house, unpack at the new, then pack up again 2 months later and unpack at yours.

They trusted me when I asked them to move in with you, in another town, away from their friends and family.

They didn't even moan about the daily two hour commute to school for six months because they could see how happy I was.

They embraced moving to a closer school and didn't try to make me feel guilty about leaving their school friends.

Even though a little scared, they made new friends and started a child-minder, putting on brave faces.

They have fed themselves by packing their own lunch, making their own breakfast and tea, put themselves to bed and pretty much organised their own lives, understood me missing all of their school plays and assemblies, due to my incapability while suffering through pregnancy.

Even when they are frightened when we argue, they allow me to reassure them that I am safe,that you are safe.

They know when I feel tired, or sad and offer to help or hug me.

They were excited about us getting married and desperately want your surname too, despite knowing how infuriated their father was about the suggestion.

They accepted you as part of their family and love you completely.

They love their new baby sister and haven't shown a scrap of jealousy or need to adjust.


These are the reasons that will make me defend them against any slightly negative comment,  why I feel so proud and privileged to be their parent, why I will champion them at any opportunity, why I can sometimes appear lax with discipline, why I constantly explain to you, how well behaved they are compared to other children, why I take the blame for anything they do wrong and most importantly...

...why I don't care about the muddy shoe prints on the dashboard of the car.

Excitement, I'm Easily Pleased

A parcel arrived...on a Sunday?

When you become a parent, everything you own becomes communal. No one tells you that really, even though I suppose it's obvious. You expect it to ease as the kids age, but it becomes worse. My make-up, has finger dents in the foundation mousse, the lids are broken off all of the eyeshadows, lid marks in the lipstick and all of my mascara dried up a substantial time ago. And this is vandalism from an 8 and 10 year old? They have even started raiding my clothes! Admittedly it's all oversized on them, but they they seem happy enough to steal it. I treated myself to a new tee-shirt to wear for bed, one from a kooky website where you can get them with kooky pictures and slogans. I bought a Jaws tee-shirt, with the classic film cover on it, in an XL size to fit an 8 month preggo bump in. I wore it once before it found its way into 8yr old girl's belonging.
It's not just my possessions, but my food too? Sometimes they have literally taken the cereal from my spoon. I suppose it will get even worse when I have to share a car with them.

It isn't just the children, but OH too. He even "shares" my shower gel/hair conditioner/shaving gel/tweezers etc. Being Mum or Wife is equivalent to abdication. You are suddenly queen of nowhere and no-thing.

I rarely spend money on myself but knowing I face a birthday this week and am not likely to receive gifts (see future blog) I decided that it was time for a treat.

Inspired (I'm so impressionable)by Not such a Yummy Mummy's Book Challenge and the fact I had recently found some time to actually read, I went mooching around Amazon.

Like I said, today, on a Sunday, a parcel arrived.

 Inside are some pure little luxuries... just for me.

Dilemma

Need advice really. OH isn't really vocal on it and best mate doesn't know what to say either.



Brief history
Left ex husband in late 2005/2006. Took me 9 months to get him out of the house as he refused to leave.
He became controlling and aggressive the last few years we were together. It got worse after I told him I no longer loved him and it was over.
A tense awkward relationship followed. He had been violent with me when we were together and it continued after we split and he had hit the children too.
After 2 yrs it got to the point where I thought he would
a) kill or badly harm me
b) harm the kids
c) run away with the kids
d) kill himself

... So I went to the police then a solicitor.

To cut a long story short, I ended up representing myself at court. Access was never in question. I'm not even sure what the case was about I just wanted help and someone to tell him he couldn't behave like that. Even his barrister said he didn't understand what the judge was trying to achieve. His barrister also disagreed with the judge, who would absolutely not let the kids (my only witnesses) give statements or evidence.

Anyways, I lost. On every one of the 11 counts, despite the ex admitting two. Supervised visitation for 6 weeks followed by regular 8 hr contact on a Saturday. That's been the case since last August.

Present Situation
I hate him! I don't trust him for a second!
We have had a few issues, in January after he found out I had gotten married and was pregnant. He made a vague threat towards my new marriage via text. A couple of cases of him trying to assert his authority over me. Stuff I can't even be bothered going in to. Another threat in person towards me a few weeks ago but I found out that last Saturday he hit my daughter!
He dragged her into the car then a few minutes later whilst she was arguing with my other daughter, hit the top of her inner thigh. All because they were bickering over a bottle of lucozade.

It's always her that he has hit. The time he punched her in the stomach because she was nagging to go to the shop (raised in court and not believed) then the time he threw her across a hotel room then started hitting her, because she wouldn't get her pj's on (witnessed by other 2 and raised then disbelieved in court).

Angry exchanges of text followed by me telling him he couldn't see them this week.

I don't know what to do???

Technically I am breaching the court agreement. But if I try to go back to court, the judge won't believe me again?

when I asked the judge to put in the court order that he doesn't hit/smack them, he said I had no right to say that as I had lost the case.

I absolutely cannot afford a solicitor.

I cannot allow my children to be treated like this.

I have no clue what direction to go.

I just wish the ex would die in a car crash :(