Slightly Miffed

5 ish years ago my first marriage broke down.

A shock to all, neither of us having given a hint of any troubles or woes. 

It had been my decision to end it and even though he fought the inevitable every step of the way, he finally conceded and accepted I no longer loved him, eventually leaving our home, for me to begin a new life.

None of my friends or family knew about his dark side and the troubles we had experienced. Predictably, I struggled to convince them why I had ended a 9 year relationship after he visited EVERYONE to explain my obvious breakdown and mental unstability, not to mention my post-natal depression and my internet use. He was a victim and I was a selfish, bored adulteress that would rather be in chat-rooms or stealing money from his bank account, than be a mother to his children.

In reality, he was controlling and abusive. 

I lost most of my family and virtually all of my friends and became the talk of the playground. This was enhanced by the anonymous letters detailing my bad parenting (also my substance abuse and prostitution) that kept finding their way to the school headmistress. Luckily she saw the malicious intent and didn't call social services.

I used to be the perfect stay-at-home "soccer mum,"with the perfect children and the perfect marriage... I was deputy-chair of the PTA for christsakes and then everyone turned their back on me.

Even close friends whispered about me, when I started working full-time leaving my poor children with a child-minder!! Crime of the century!

One of my best friends stopped talking to me all together, just one day, she stopped. One day I was her bridesmaid-to-be wearing a vile gold concoction that made me look like an Oscar, the next minute she looked the other way when I walked past.

I didn't even have the energy to ask why.

I worked hard, determined not to claim any kind of financial support and luckily found a job I loved, that powered my confidence and gave me some wonderful new friends.

I often wondered about the best mate that abandoned me. I couldn't understand why she made comments to other mutual friends about how I "dumped" my children with a child-minder and became a "slut" when I started dating again.

I mean, she was the one claiming she was a single parent registering her fiancée at another address. She was using her wages from her waitress job (on the side) and her income support to pay for her upcoming wedding. 

I moved on in every sense.

Thanks to Facebook we have made contact again over the past year and with the help of mutual friends we have seen each other on a few occasions.

I was shocked to see her FB status updates the other day. She seemed really down and could maybe use company? Luckily I was back in my home town with the mutual best-mate. We called to check on her and were startled by the news.

She and her husband of three years, have separated. He has already moved out. There are no more details as of yet but mutual best-mate began to speculate.

Mutual best-mate never turned her back on me but she disapproved of my lifestyle greatly. I didn't care and was grateful that she told me to my face, then carried on being my, much needed friend.

She told me of how old-best-friend was on anti-depressants, as was she. How they were both unhappy with their marriages; sex lives over, no love between them and their partners etc. How they both were fed-up at home, bored of their lives, felt no achievement or satisfaction and longed for the confidence to go to work full time.

I felt so angry.

For such a long time I felt so judged, so wrong, such a failure. And it was people I cared about making me feel this way. 

Turns out it was jealousy, maybe fear.

I'm guessing though, that they will require my support during their time of need. Especially as I have been through it all and can offer guidance.

"Wishful thinking" springs to mind...

Sulking

Arghhhhhhhh

I badly wanted to go and watch Flight Of The Conchords in Manchester but couldn't get original tickets when they went on sale.
Very tempted I was to get them from touts off Ebay but simply couldn't afford them so OH suggested we could try touts on the night.
Secretly I hoped that OH had gotten me some for my birthday but when I realised I was buying myself half an IPad for that occasion I finally let the idea go.

I WOULD KILL TO GO AND SEE FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS!

Someone has just posted on my Facebook that they have spare tickets for tonight.

a) I have no money
b) OH is on lates (finished 30 minutes after the gig starts)
c) I have no babysitter (family live 30 minutes away)

It starts in 3 hours and it's an hours drive away.

What's a girl to do?

Carrier Bag Of Crap

Finally a post that doesn't complain about the state of my relationship or wallow in self pity.

Inspired by the parcel that arrived this morning, I have decided to blog about my Gran.

I could see the parcel on the laminate floor lying at the foot of the door. Snuggled up on the sofa with the baby sleeping across my legs, I was reluctant to move. I wasn't expecting any delivery of newly purchased goodies, but there was still a spattering of gifts arriving through the post from people I have never heard of, let alone met, wishing congratulations on the new arrival.

Encouraged by the people of Twitter, I left the sofa and picked up the packet. The disappointment was instant when I saw my Gran's handwriting.

The contents spilt onto the sofa -

A white cotton mop cap/bonnet
Knitted pink mittens
A hand written note
4 photographs

I was slightly disappointed that I had allowed myself to get briefly excited that something good had arrived through the letterbox but was amused when I read the note.

"Just a hurried note to let you have the bonnet and mitts, if the mitts are not needed, they can be used for mobile phone covers, good thinking eh?"

Not really Gran. Can't see OH stuffing his IPhone into a tiny pink knitted mitten?

The photo's were also a hoot. She is shocking when it comes to taking pictures. Firstly, she is obsessed. Her camera is there at every visit and she orders whoever is present to lean in and smile. Two of the pictures contained my children and baby (part of heads were missing and my elbow and legs only made it into the scene) and the other two gems were out of focus cakes.

One was 10yr old girl's Liverpool FC birthday cake and the other was our cheap wedding cake (delicious Cost-Co marshmallowy jam gooey cake.)

Maybe it's her age and she needs to have a record of pointless memories. In 30 years we will remember the cake, but there are no photo's of the people on that day?

Whenever she visits, she comes bearing gifts. Even when it's someone else visiting, she has sent one of her carrier bags for them to give to me.

They are not Supermarket carrier bags, but usually plain blue plastic ones or red and white stripy ones, that you get from the market or a take-away.

In it will be a random assortment of fruit bars or chocolate from various European countries, that taste foul and only found discounted in some "Home&Bargain" type shop.

I can usually guarantee that there will be some socks in the bag. She rotates the purchases between me and the kids. They get school socks, I get nasty coloured trainer socks. Those type that just go over your heel. They are uncomfortable mother-fuckers and I don't even own trainers to wear them under. All socks are bought from Primark or the market and have the printed price scribbled out and sale price hand-written on.

Cheese heavily features in the carrier bag, most likely some form of cheese slice (those ones wrapped in plastic that you put on burgers) or soft cheese triangles. Again, these are not branded and have a short expiry date.

Meat sometimes makes an appearance as she has an obsession with Gammon at the moment. It comes vacuum-packed from the market and when you open the seal, a nasty smell omits. I did give the gammon a chance and cooked it once. Only OH was brave enough to eat it.

Bread is another staple product of the bag. It will have been purchased from Kwik-Save on the last possible date it could be sold, so it has a marked-down price on it. It's then quickly frozen and sent to me. She reminds me of one of those frozen sweetcorn adverts, frozen, packed and at your door before the day is out.

Then there are the surprises. It could be absolutely anything. From a home-made material carrier bag dispenser, to household cloths, old Christmas cards for scrap paper or scarily, an item of clothing for one of us to wear.

I have been receiving these carrier bags for about 15 years and have actually told her several times not to assemble them. The lady has such selective hearing though. I still get a chocolate orange every few months as "a treat" because she knows how much I love them (every single one going into the bin as even the kids wont entertain them.)

It gets out of control sometimes, for example when she came to look after the kids while I gave birth to the baby. I could tell by the expression on Dad's face that I should brace myself.

3 bin-bags came out of the car. One even contained her bedding so she could "stay for a few weeks."

I won't even go into detail about the nightmare she was when I was in hospital giving birth and she was rearranging my house.

She fretted as she unpacked her bin-bags and didn't find the missing bacon. Dad found it a few weeks later, warm and smelling on the back seat of his car.

I know she means well and I know that I am an ungrateful bitch but I struggle so much to show gratitude for 15 years worth of "out of date" dark chocolate digestives delivered in a blue plastic carrier bag.

Forgive Him? I Think Not

It made me cry in the car today when I thought of the past nine months and how difficult they had been. The one golden shining prize was the baby being born and this happy time of newness as a family.

A happy time that should be precious and memorable but instead has been ruined and filled with sadness.

Maybe for him it is all smoking related. His withdrawal and frustration is being taken out on us. He did have the nerve to blame me for not being supportive of him quitting, despite the fact he hasn't been supportive of me quitting, or giving birth or suffering with quinsy or struggling with breast feeding, hormones, fear of coping and not having a routine, retard ex-husband issues, anything and everything that is hitting me at the moment. I can hardly agree he has been even slightly supportive of me.

I intended on quoting from texts sent by him, to highlight with examples how hurtful things have been but I would only cry if I had to look back through them.

On occasion over the last 2 weeks I have been filled with hatred for him. Yet I seem to be the one that gives in, that makes an effort, that hugs him, that allows general chit chat.

I alternate between wanting to leave while he is working, to staying and making him tea. To trash his precious electrical belongings to try to affect him, but instead I wash and iron his clothes. I lay in bed crying a few nights ago, yet when I went out for food, I still brought him some. I want to go out and fuck someone else to hurt him, but he would probably just feel relieved.

Yet again, this morning I have cried twice because of him but have still text him to see what time his break is so I can take him a breakfast treat.

I'm pathetic. He hurts me and I do things that show him I am allowing him to continue doing it.

But I don't think I will forgive him for wrecking my special time over the last 2 weeks. Ever

Mini Blog 3

Even though he knows the increased risk of cot death and that he cannot be next to her while she is sleeping, he still smokes.

He held her for about 5 minutes this morning and not much more this evening. Now he has to sleep on the sofa again tonight. What's the point?

Mini Blog 2

Paternity is over. Instead of feeling well rested and ready to take on the world with my new bundle of joy, I feel mentally and physically drained, a tad petrified and fairly sad.

The last two weeks should have been perfect and memorable. The have been tainted and spoiled.