Parenting - Fear is Anger

Having told you how much I've been struggling with madam's temper recently I decided I could do with being more proactive about getting to the root of the problem. Remembering that the last time she was this volatile was also connected to her fears it seemed a good place to start.

When himself punched me it left a permanent impression on madam (despite having been only 3 she still mentions it regularly). It also left her with a lot of mixed feelings to deal with which to some extent I had to ride out due to her inability to properly verbalise her feelings. 

New clothes make any girl smile :)

Some of it was outright anger and she punched everyone and everything for a while. I had to go into her nursery on the first day and explain what might happen. I then had to go through a whole child protection thing with them to ensure himself couldn't go anywhere near her without me also being there. 

Also, she became incredibly clingy, which, if you know madam, you will know is very out of character. This is the bit I decided to try and focus on with her this weekend. Her clinginess was a manifestation of separation anxiety. So is her current vile behaviour somehow all mixed up with that?

I took her to the cinema on Saturday morning so that we could have some alone time together doing something fun. I let her watch the film and choose where we were having lunch before talking to her about it so that I knew she was pretty chilled out.

Knowing that my going to work is something that is new to her I decided to use that as a jumping off point. And I pretty much hit the jackpot. She admitted to being worried that I would go to work and forget about her and not come back. This is another leftover from her dad as he left us to go and work in London and has not lived with us since.

Can you look menacing whilst wearing Lycra? 

Her little brain does parent working = abandonment. I have spent the whole of the weekend trying to reassure that even though, yes, we dont get as much time together, I will not leave her. I have used all the examples I can think of from times we've been apart and I have come back again.

The thing that made me sad was that she can remember every single night we've spent apart! She really doesn't like it. And I had to try not to dismiss her fears as silly. They are very real to her. Daddy left her. She can't see why mummy never would, even if I have always come back before there might be a time when I don't.

She did at one point ask if she could live with nanna as she's retired and therefore won't go to work and leave her :'( Poor little thing. I have tried to make her understand that even if she is angry and worried this is not a reason to throw things at people and she has been better over the weekend. We'll see how it goes on.

Does anyone have any other ideas of ways I might be able to reassure her?

Love, Pearl.

Parenting - How Do I Deal With Temper?

Hello, lovelies. How are you? I'm kinda tired, but its Friday, bring on the weekend! I have actually got no hope of having a peaceful weekend, but I can dream...

Madam has been horrid the last couple of days, culminating in her throwing a pair of (incredibly sharp) scissors at me yesterday. I'm sure its just a case of being hideously tired as she had had a very busy couple of days, but I can't cope with her behaving like that to me! She *needs* to work on her temper. 

I think it frightens her when she loses control like that. My main issue really was not the throwing of the scissors, but the fact she didn't apologise. She was so busy begging me to let her keep doing Rainbows (I told her it obviously made her too tired and cranky) that she didn't consider how she might go about making amends. 

I am at another impasse with her. I have to seriously consider whether her temper is worth letting her do something she clearly loves. Whilst I'm glad she controls herself with other people I can't be her punching bag any longer. She knows that I don't tolerate hitting, she remembers what happened when Daddy punched me after all. So this is why she throws things instead.

I'm considering throwing things away that she throws at me, so she learns to keep hold of her stuff. But then she'll throw my things at me, she's not stupid... I have nowhere that I can use to confiscate things to, either. I might try getting a lidded plastic box where I can put things that are confiscated and then make a list of ways to earn things back. 

Not sure it'll work, but it has to be worth a try. I dread her getting older and still being incapable of controlling herself. She will end up really hurting me, she's very strong already. This morning she pulled my hair really hard because she didn't want me to get out of bed. I pulled hers back, which was probably not very clever of me, but she needs to know how much that hurts! 

It's not really a cure all technique is it. I would simply be teaching her to retaliate like for like. And I spend ages telling her not to retaliate at school etc. Way to be a hypocrite Pearl. 

And you know the stupid thing? Despite her size and strength it seems to be her that gets shoved around at school! She told me she was pushed over three times the other day. Each time by a different student and each time she told the teacher who then dealt with it. But it seems to happen a lot and this is obviously something else that's winding her up. 

It's so hard to know what to do for best. I'm not convinced raising it with her teacher will really help. She is dealing with it and I should respect that. I'm just not sure she realises that madam is as upset by it as she is. She is the master of picking herself up and getting on with it.  Which must look like she's just brushing it off, but then I get it in the neck later. 

I really want to be able to help her, does anyone have any suggestions? I'm not stupid enough to think that at no point she might be provoking people, she is good at that, after all. But how do I help her move forward? Should I have a word with her teacher? 

Love, Pearl.

a work, or two, in progress

I have done it again. I have started another project without actually quite finishing the last one. I didn't used to do that when I first started. So what changed?

Which bit of me is it that is incapable of finishing what I've started? Because it creeps up and attacks me in other areas of my life as well. I am at an international level for my  procrastination, that much has been true for years. But that usually involves me *not* starting something...

I know that part of it is the thrill of the new I think we all suffer from at various points. You know, when you have to wear your new shoes around the house all day as it's the only way you'll get to wear them... But this thing where I'm racking up unfinished craft projects is not my norm. I am the person who read the Silmarillion (yes, I do want a medal, thanks) because I had started it and didn't want to give up.

(I've just googled Silmarillion to see if I spelt it correctly (I had) and apparently they're talking of making it into a film! Why?)

The only book I have ever given up on, in fact, is Don Quixote. And if you are one of the people who thinks it's brilliant, I will laugh. Because I loathed it. I also really didn't like Wuthering Heights, but did finish it. I have read both Shirley and Vilette because I enjoy Charlotte Bronte's writing. Neither of which were particularly fun for me. So this plodding on until I get it finished is actually my default and I don't know how it's got out of kilter.

Or do I? (that was like some terrible TV thriller). I have begun to wonder if I should view it as a good thing. Not because I end up with loads of unfinished things lying around my already untidy home, but because it shows an unwillingness to put up with things.

I have had a low boredom threshold for years and was trained to stick with things until the end and the joys of delayed gratification. But I am older now, and though I am not seeking instant pleasure wherever and whenever, I am not happy to accept being stuck with something I'm not enjoying.

Why should I? I have, after all, taken the bull by the horns and reclaimed my own life because I was unhappy. I even had to convince myself that giving up on the relationship wasn't giving up. It was actually growth. And allowing myself to be in charge of my life rather than a spectator was ok. I still have wobbles where I realise the power of what I have done, or when K *still* calls me his girl (actually, that mainly pisses me off, how has he not got the message yet?).

On a complete side note, my cousin was asking if I was ok and telling me how sorry he was that life was being shit to me. I mentioned that I was feeling stronger and wasn't prepared to be anyone's punching bag. He hadn't known that part of it and has now promised to beat him up when he next sees him. Which I really don't want, but is quite sweet of him to offer! See, I need someone who wants to fight for me, not with me...

Anyway, back to my inability to finish projects. But it isn't even that. Because 9/10 I do finish them. I just have to have a bit of distance to get re-excited about it again. I set myself challenges with some of my projects by going in at a level I'm not really at yet and hoping I can do it. Sometimes it defeats me and I have to back down and do some simple projects to bolster my confidence for another assault at it. This is certainly how I treat my crochet. And I think that might be because I taught myself from books and magazines with no knowledge of what it should look like. 

I was always pretty confident with the knitting as I have seen people doing it my whole life and knew mine looked "right". But crochet? Nope, none of my family/friends did that. I know a lot who do now, but not when I started. I am more bold with my choices but also love trying new motifs. Because they are small you can try out new stitches/techniques in relative safety. 

So I think that maybe, being always excited and on to the next project is helping me learn more techniques. I want to know it all and grow my skills. The only area this falls down is my sewing! I am still lacking in confidence. Right down to the cutting the pattern. In fact, it's mainly the cutting. Once I have the pieces, sewing it together is not too hard. Fiddly sometimes, but fairly straightforward with the machine. And I like my machine, it does what I ask it to. Bonus!

So, this new pattern I got, I might need some help with... But I will do it :)

Moral of the story? Not sure there is one. But a work-in-progress is not necessarily the only work-in-progress. Learning new skills is fun. Learning when to call it a day is also good...

jobs are back in fashion

mere hours old, and after a 4-day induction, I am never going to forget when she was born!

 

 

I have had The Letter. The DWP have written to tell me that my child will be 5 soon (gee, thanks, without you telling me I might have forgotten!) and that I will be taken off income support at that point and will have to apply for JSA. Great. I am so looking forward to that. Not.

 

And why do I have to apply again? Surely I should just be moved onto it... Although, they have also stated in the letter that I may not be entitled to it, so that's probably why. As far as I know I am, but it's enough to make you nervous... And I really don't want to be on JSA, they make you feel so shit about being unemployed. Like it's some sort of choice you've made.

 

I would love not to have lost my job (that I hated and didn't *actually* plan on going back to) but I did. And then because I happened to lose my job/have a baby at almost the exact same moment as the recession hit in 2008, finding another one was suddenly impossible.

 

My plan had been to have madam and at the end of my maternity leave go back to a part-time job. Now, that would have been impossible where I did work as I couldn't have had hours that would have fitted in with childcare hence why I was always going to leave. But this was different. There were no jobs in the town where I lived. And I don't mean that as some sweeping generalisation. There were none. ALL the biggest employers had either closed or laid off everyone except the bare minimum.

 

There was no seasonal work as no-one was going anywhere as no-one had any money. Scarborough died in 2008. It was awful. Anyone with a job held onto it with both hands, no matter what it was. Not even K could get work. And he'd worked everywhere in that town. He ended up doing the odd night on a door in Driffield, but that was it.

 

So we moved back to Beverley. And I still miss Scarborough all the time. I sometimes wonder about moving madam and I back there, one (well, actually both) of her godmother's live there. I have friends with small kids, it's small enough for me to not feel intimidated like I do in cities, but bigger than here. The reason I don't is the exact reason we left.

 

There is nowhere else locally. Nowhere bigger anyway. The nearest cities are Hull and York, both about an hour away. So living back in my home town where Hull is just a 20min bus ride away is much better for me, jobwise. And Scarborough is still a seasonal town. Jobs are mostly service based and if you're one of the unlucky ones there will be no work in the off-season. Zero hours contracts are the absolute norm.

 

I can't live like that, certainly not now I have madam and that we're on our own. Actually, financially the being on our own bit makes little difference as K quite happily left me to pay the majority of everything even when we were together. He used to give me £75 a week, which he cut down to £40 without any thought of how little money that would leave me with.

 

This is another form of domestic abuse that I *actually* didn't really understand about until after we broke up. That control he had over money was another way of making me the weaker partner. Most of my debt issues started from there. I couldn't keep up with all our bills etc, and after I lost my job it just went into freefall.

 

Sorry, should have put a trigger warning on that last statement. For me if for no-one else. I have had to take a short break to calm myself down. So angry that he controlled me in so many ways and that I didn't even recognise it.

 

Domestic abuse makes you feel stupid.

 

*breathes*

 

Sorry, back to me getting a job... I am staying put in Bev as I am better placed to get a job as there is a big city and several biggish villages/smallish towns around and about for me to plum(b?) for jobs... But I do keep seeing photos of the seaside and wishing I was there...

 

But now I have to get serious about my job searching and start treating it as a job rather than a past-time. I would still prefer to only work part-time so that I could do the school run, but am aware that that is unlikely to happen. I am incredibly glad that mum and dad are local and I can rely on them to do that bit for me if I can't! But I don't want them to have to do it every day. And I'd like not to work weekends if at all possible, which would be something of a novelty as every job I've ever had has involved weekend working.

 

This is why I want to work in schools. I am considering applying for everything from dinner lady (person) up. I would love to not be reliant on the government for all the money I have. I would like for K to bother giving me some child support *laughs so hard there are tears in my eyes*. He won't. But he should. I don't get how any man (or woman) can just walk away from their child without it seeming to bother them in the slightest. How do you not care where they're getting food, warmth, shelter and clothing from?

 

I apparently, am a fool for caring about my offspring. 

 

But I am terrified with how I'm going to get on with all the form filling I'm about to start having to do. Let alone my lack of interview skills. I am so bad at interviews... I hate selling myself. Perhaps I should include a link to my blog in my applications! No, then they might realise I'm crazy...

 

I have managed to get myself a few smart clothes that would be suitable to wear to an interview and I know if I do get a chance to work in a school I have some experience with the age range. I just feel like I'm floating around grabbing at something to anchor me. I am so afraid of returning to that environment, even though it's what I need. 

 

Days are long now that madam is at school properly. Time to colour in the hours we're apart so that we can show each other our days over tea :)  

 

 

domestic abuse in the public eye

Today is a bit odd for me... There is a big story in one of the national papers about celebrity chef Nigella Lawson being abused by her husband Charles Saatchi in public. No-one did anything about this woman being abused in front of them. It breaks my heart.

 

Now there are many people asking questions about why she would stay with someone who was obviously abusive and today I found a blog with a wonderful list of things victims are thinking. There are 20 things on this list but sadly I don't think that's all of them.

 

I started reading the comments underneath the article and it was all I could do not to weep about all the horrid things people had been through. My own experiences of DV are here and reading them back to myself still makes me feel silly for staying as long as I did.

 

But I realised I fell into some of the categories listed on the aforementioned blog and it makes me feel better to know how common it is for people to stay. I hope that I will find a relationship where I am genuinely treated the way I'd like to be, but I'm still not ready to even look.

 

There are so many people who suffer in silence and don't know where to turn. So this is the link to the refuge website and here is the phone number: 0808 2000 247. They are available 24 hours a day and won't force you to do anything you're not ready for. But if you have no-one to talk to, they're there.

 

I wish I'd had the number and spoken to them about my problems. Instead I hid and it got worse before I left (well, made him leave). I am lucky that I have a very supportive group of family and friends who have been helping me find myself again. Again, just wish I'd let them in a little sooner.

 

But the point is that I found that strength and I left. I got myself and my daughter out of harms way as much as I could. I protected her from the worst things and she's never had to suffer at the hands of her father. Although I know that the emotional trauma of having watched her mother being hit will probably never leave her, the positive message I am sending by trying to be strong will also stay with her.

 

I wasn't planning on talking about this today, I was mainly going to have a chat about it being Father's day today.

 

 

 

Obviously, I feel bad that I picked such a rubbish one for madam and I wish that he could try harder. But I can't change that and instead I am glad that she is surrounded by other positive male role models. The most important one is my dad.

 

Now, I will admit to being terrified of him when I was younger, he had a quick temper and was very shouty. But as I've grown I have seen all the things that he has done for me. I know that, realistically, I can always rely on him. Even if I feel sure he'll be cross. And he continues to be supportive and reassuring in all my endeavours. 

 

Basically, I wouldn't swap him for the world! And he's so good with my daughter, she feels completely safe with him and I know that he will be there for her in the same ways he has always been there for me. If it weren't for the fact he hates Fathers day (and lets not forget grandparents day!) I would be making as much fuss of him as he'd let me! Madam made him a Father's day card at school. She didn't want to give it to K. 

 

Sadly, he's still on holiday so, even if we were allowed to fuss him, we couldn't this year! But madam will leave him the card with her very best handwriting in for when he comes home.

 

 

Happy Father's Day to you all. I hope that there is someone in your life who is/was the father that you needed. Even if he wasn't your own... 

 

  

on relationships and a dream man

 

 

 

I had a really good chat with one of my college friends last night and we both discussed how we seem to have picked similar men to each other. Charming and funny, caring and kind and then turning into something completely different over time.

 

We were saying it was strange that we should be sad over the ending of bad relationships as it doesn't seem to make sense. I was impressed by how determined my friend was to toughen up and get over what had happened and move on. Onwards and upwards, as they say!

 

I, however, still haven't got on with sorting out my divorce. It's quite far down my list of priorities at the moment. I still feel it's fairly important for me to get my house and finances sorted first. And to be fair, the longer we're separated the easier it is for me to claim full custody on grounds of abandonment as well as because of the violence in the relationship.

 

Not that he seems to be considering this idea at all yet. He still seems to think I'm about to forget what happened, forgive him and have more babies with him. Apparently, he thinks pigs fly as well, so that might explain it! As a friend of mine says, he might have got away with leaving me as a single parent once, but letting him do it twice would be my own stupid fault!

 

I have to confess that the idea of having any more children with the same father as the child I already have is more appealing than having multiple fathers. But I don't want to have to have him in my life any more than is necessary! And plus, do I really want to give another child a pathetic excuse for a dad instead of having one who's actually going to be there for their child. That'd be a no...

 

I can't say I'm actually looking for another boyfriend at the mo, again, I have other priorities. But it would be nice. It might even spur me on to sort out the divorce thing!

 

It would be nice to have a person I could share things with again. To have someone to be there for me and help me make decisions. Someone to make me smile and to support me when I'm low. And it would be nice if they actually appreciated my intelligence and saw it as an asset, not something to be jealous of.

 

And if they were quite nice to look at, that would be a bonus! ;)

 

how do you know when it's time to go?

It’s not as easy as people think it is. There are many reasons why, but these are some of mine.

I’ve told you that K punched me in an argument whilst we were in the car on the way to madams’ hair appointment. I’m pretty sure I also mentioned he used to tell me I wasn’t good enough.

But I’m afraid I held back. I guess because it’s hard for me to admit how much I let him do to me before I finally drew a line under it. I guess because I’m an intelligent person I didn’t ever think I could be that foolish.

I always thought it was a fairly black and white thing. If there is violence in the relationship then the victim leaves. That’s what sensible people presume, why they don’t understand why the victim stays. But there is more to it than that.

There’s the emotions that are involved, the way that slowly but surely you don’t even know how you got there. K wasn’t a violent person (I still wouldn’t say he is) however he had ways to try and control me that I didn’t even notice until very recently. He told me what he thought a wife should be and although I laughed it off and filed it under “whatever” it can’t be unheard. He criticised the things I wore until I started checking with him about what I was wearing. Not even in a big way but things like “I think you should change that top, it doesn’t go with your shoes” or something else, perfectly reasonable. So I would get changed, then ask his approval. Because I wanted him to like how I looked. I ran outfits by him, I did ignore him sometimes, but I still did it.

He complained about my driving, about the fact I obsess over travel details, that I talked too much, that I was too untidy, that I didn’t eat chicken properly (no, I still don’t know what “properly” entails). I know these are the same little niggles all couples have. But there was never any positive. It was all constantly negative. And I started to be miserable. I told myself that all relationships go through bad times that he was really busy and working too much.

There were days when he was that wonderful, funny, charming guy that I fell for. We would have fun, we would laugh, and we would talk about the future. I loved those days. They would top me up and I would be content again for a while.

Those days got further apart. And when I was pregnant (which is apparently a common time for escalation) things started to get worse. When I was about 16 weeks he and I had an argument. Nothing too unusual, big or even that out of the ordinary about that. But I wanted to go to my parents later on and he didn’t want to let me. He locked the doors and hid my car keys. I couldn’t leave. He said I would have to phone the police and get them to arrest him. So, I did. I phoned the non-emergency number (because it wasn’t, like, a real emergency) and explained my husband was stopping me from leaving my house. That he was sitting right next to me whilst I was on the phone. They put me through to the 999 control room and they said someone was coming straight round.

K let them in and then the poor guy had to negotiate with him. He did threaten to arrest him but I pointed out I wasn’t hurt and didn’t really want that. I just wanted to go to my folks and give us room to both calm down.

He complained he wasn’t involved in decision making for the baby and that we needed to clarify a few things. So I agreed we could talk about it only not until the morning. I left, went home and came back to chat with him later. He made me feel like it was my fault that he’d over-reacted and given how emotional I was at that stage in the proceedings I accepted it.

Fast forward to when madam was a few months old (roughly 7, but I can’t quite remember). She had a bad cold and was really grotty and quite tired as she’d had trouble sleeping. As you can imagine, I was fairly tired too. I’d made lunch and K had madam next to him in her high chair and was trying to get her to eat. She was mainly refusing and he was getting worked up and making her worse (in the way that babies do). I pulled her over to my side of the table to soothe her a bit and to hopefully get her to have a few spoonfuls. This was wrong. He got really mad about me taking over the feeding, pulled her back towards him and she started screaming. I’m afraid I saw red, I did something I thought only people on TV did. I threw my plate of food at him. I missed (because my aim is so good!). And he slapped me across the face. Hard. I couldn’t believe he’d done it. I never thought he’d ever hit me. I just kept saying why. I got up from the table and sort of cowered on the floor as he looked like he was going to do it again. Instead he emptied his plate of food all over me and just kept yelling. I grabbed madam and went and locked myself in the bathroom. I was crying so hard. I ran a bath for me and her, as she’d got food on her too, and we stayed there for a while.

I managed to escape into my bedroom, rang my dad and just said “he hit me” my dad told me to stay put and he’d be there ASAP. Mum and dad turned up about 45mins later and asked where he was to which I said downstairs. We got my things, madam’s things; I grabbed our passports and madam’s birth certificate. I wasn’t going back.

Well, that was the plan.

My parents were great. They didn’t ask any questions and just left me be. But we had to talk about it eventually and the next day we had a chat. They asked what had happened and I explained. They asked what I wanted to do and whether I was going back. Because it wasn’t just me, it was madam too. And there it was. He loved her, he was great with her and I couldn’t take her away from him when so much stuff was going on in our lives (redundancy, new baby, his father was ill). I had never thought he could do that, never. So I called it a one off and went back. And it was ok, not wonderful, but ok. I have no idea how my parents let me go, I don’t think I could.

And then we moved back to Beverley, and he ended up in America less than a month later. And I was so lonely. I missed him.

Even after he came back I wanted to make it work. Until he hit me again. And for those who are counting that’s twice he hit me in front of my daughter.

And he drew his own line. I got my dad to help me kick him out and I tried to harden my heart. I will not have my daughter grow up with a woman that accepts that treatment. She has to know that it’s wrong. And as soon as I let him back in, that will be my telling her that it is. Because she is so intelligent and so quick that she remembers what he did. My fear is she’ll never forget.

I’ve tried to let her develop her own relationship with her father because she loves him, and he her. But I can’t leave him alone with her for my own security and that means I have to see him. And when we’re together in short bursts he is all those things I love about him. Making it so hard for me to stay strong and I slipped over New Year. But I’m going to win this fight. Because I deserve better, I deserve someone who actually loves me too, who will be there when I need them and who will actually treat me as an equal.

And so does my daughter.