Lifestyle - Father's Day

I've been meaning to write a Father's Day post for a few days, but haven't had the chance. It's a strange day in our house as my Dad has never celebrated it and madam's dad isn't exactly outstanding in the field! 

We actually had a really busy day as madam had a party in the morning and we decided to go out for the afternoon... Madam was at the local soft play centre for 11am and was bouncing around the house for *hours* beforehand.

I loathe sitting around at parties talking to mums I don't really know which is why I tend to leave madam to it if possible. Not the case at soft play, sadly. Though, being Father's Day meant it really wasn't very busy in there. Thankfully. 

After much partying and birthday lunching we decided to go to Hornsea (a local seaside town) for the afternoon. As the weather wasn't too cheerful we decided on going to the mere instead of the beach. Which was probably the best plan as it was windy enough there! 

The mere is home to a pretty sizeable goose population and madam had a great time collecting together the biggest feathers she could find. She has since taken them to school for crafts :-)  When she had picked up as many feathers as any one child could need we had a bit of a wander and she walked along one of the jetties to get a better look at the water. 

I did the parent thing of deciding whether to intervene as she made some rather scary manoeuvres horribly near the edge, but she didn't fall and I was glad she had got to do it her way. I bought her a wee windmill in the little shop that I don't remember ever being there before and she had fun running around and watching it spin. 

She mentioned her kite several times and we've decided that's what we'll do this weekend coming. Quite looking forward to that, its ages since we've flown the kite!

We voted for going to the Freeport in Hornsea for a drink as we were getting a bit chilly by the mere. We had a wander round the shops and had madam's feet measured at the Clark's outlet. She is now a size 1! But her school shoes are still OK until the end of this term, I hope! They'll just have to be, frankly! 

My mum is quite looking forward to madam's feet being bigger than hers (4) as she thinks that'll stop her wearing hers! Nope... 

One cup of coffee and glass of fizzy orange later we headed back to my parents to see younger bro for a bit before going home for tea. We had yummy meatballs and pasta and madam was told she could have a couple of the sweeties in her party bag. 

She ate all of them. I, therefore, told her off and banned her from having any more sweets this week. She was not impressed and threw some things at me. At which point I banned her from any bedtime stories for the week either. Major madam meltdown.

She was livid. But I wouldn't back down and did manage to get her to put her pyjamas on. Couldn't get her to go to bed and got stabbed with an umbrella and hit in the face with a flying projectile for my efforts. 

I left her to it. She was too angry to even try to reason with. She plonked herself on the floor under my feet. Eventually, she fell asleep where she was. I merely covered her over and left her to it. She woke up about 10pm. I told her to get in bed, she wimped a bit but went straight upstairs and silence re-descended. 

On Sunday I was really upset she'd spoiled our nice day. But in hindsight, it was only bedtime. We still had had a lovely day. She was still unreasonable and frighteningly out of control, but I think I need to focus on the good parts. 

She did, sort of in the middle, quiet down enough to tell me she missed her daddy and wanted him there and not a new one (she's a bit obsessed with me remarrying). And I understood a least a little of where this massive outburst had come from. 

Of course she was angry that I had confiscated things she liked but she had spent the week being built up at school and at Rainbows for a Father's Day she felt excluded from. This is the first year she's really been cognisant about it. Every other year she has been happy to accept me as substitute. But I'm not her Dad. And her Dad is gone at the moment. She hasn't seen him since August bank holiday last year and he hasn't phoned her for ages. 

My divorce (that's a whole other post!) is in progress and she is very aware of that. She is confused. Again. I feel heartbroken that she has to constantly deal with all these things when she is still so young. But I hope we can get through to the other side soon and she can get some happiness and stability back. 

I wish that we were there already though. 

Love, Pearl. 

Lifestyle - A Moan About Reality

Hellooooooooo! Sorry to have been A.W.O.L. for so long. I have been rather obsessively reading a series of books and then I read my book for the month in an hour or so, so I've sort of started on next month's book! 

I say almost, because technically its not the book on the list but as the one that is happens to be the 2nd of 3, I thought I could start on book 1 now :-) 

I have been feeling a little out of love with blogging as well. Too many other things going on that I'm not too happy with for whatever reason is leaving me uninspired. I did get a bit of a boost on Sunday though as I got to be internationally famous for an evening! 

This is because my interview was up on the Bonjour, Blogger! site. I really enjoy the interview posts and love to read about different bloggers out there. It certainly made me feel a bit more happy than I had been so far that evening. Madam is still being a handful...

And that's another thing that has been winding me up. Now, I'm certainly not averse to social media and use it all the time. And yea, I edit the things I put out there. But why is the internet full of pictures of kids destroying stuff, crying at nothing and generally being horrid when *no-one* seems to mention that side of it!

These things are collected in one place and only if you know where to look will you find them. They're not all over Facebook or Twitter (at least, not that I've seen). It leaves me feeling like my child is in some way abnormal for acting the way she does. And she's just not. My 5yr old certainly is angrier than a lot of others, but the rest of the stuff is perfectly normal 5yr old behaviour, isn't it? 

If I talk to the other parents in the playground they all roll their eyes and mention the time when their little darling did x or y or even both! I sometimes wonder why this side of parenting seems to be so taboo. My struggles with madam's temper would be more manageable if I didn't feel quite so alone dealing with it.

And if you search online for help there are hundreds of other parents asking the same questions. So, I shouldn't feel so isolated, but when you've had a whole day ruined by one, almighty, tantrum and you've been told just how much you're hated by the one person you're devoted to it does niggle. Because those are the moments when I rant on Twitter and I get to see someone else's perfect day with their child!  

So, come on parents, help me out! Surely there are bad moments in your days too? It can't just be me, can it? 

Love, Pearl.

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.

the benefits of jobseeking

Perhaps I need to start widening my job-hunting criteria!

There has been much stress in my life over the last couple of weeks whilst I sorted out going from Income Support to Job Seekers Allowance (JSA). I was told all the steps I needed to take and *exactly* when to take them.

I did ask them whether I could apply for JSA early as a payment gap would be a big issue for madam and I. They assured me that if I applied when I was told to that there would be no issues. This was obviously one massive lie.

I have spent the last couple of weeks in a weird kind of limbo wherein I am being paid money, but not the quantity I was anticipating and at different times than I was planning on. I have at least been paid enough that I covered my rent payments, but it left me with nothing else. Almost literally.

My mum and dad lent me some cash just to tide me over and I thought it would be resolved on Tuesday this week when my next payment was due in. Again, I was wrong. The payment wasn’t there at which point I had a major freak out and considered making a formal complaint to the DWP.

I found the site to make complaints and it said I should check with my branch to see if they could help before instigated complaint procedures and I figured, as I was going to sign on, I would ask them in person. Having got to sit with my advisor and he ticked me off I then asked about my money.

The chap looked at me as if I was a bit of a wally and explained for JSA the signing on acts as a signal to release my money and then it would be paid a couple of working days after that. Why no-one could have told me that at any point before I got to meltdown level, I don’t know. The upside is that I am expecting a full payment on Friday and can then pay off all sorts of other things that have been on pause whilst I’ve been transitioning.

One of the things I am waiting to do is change my name by deed poll. This has been more of an issue than I thought it would. It’s my name after all and I *should* be able to call myself whatever I fancy. My dad has proved less keen than I was expecting. I have said for ages I would go back to my maiden name but then, I thought, why should I? I have spent years frustrated at people’s inability to pronounce or spell my name; I should go for something easier.

My mum’s maiden name is really nice and easy and my uncle didn’t have any kids so will die out with him. Well, their branch of it will at any rate, so why not change it to that then. One word: Dad. He was not keen on the idea at all and when my cousin jokingly said I should use it as a first name with my maiden name as a surname he got even more upset! I think it might have been in part as I agreed with said cousin and said it was cool. At no point would I ever have *actually* done that though. I do not wish to spend the rest of my life explaining why I am named after a woodland creature!

So then today I came up with a name that combined the two and I actually quite liked (I still am unlikely to actually use it) and this did at least raise a bit of a smile with my dad. But I think I will just go back to re-joining my lovely Scottish roots. I have always been proud of that part of myself; it’s always made me a little unique amongst my friends. And my middle name, which I loathed for years? Nope, gonna keep that too. Unique is good sometimes. I am nothing if not full of contradictions.

So, having spent a couple of weeks dithering and deciding I think I will just revert to maiden name as I had always planned to. But now I have made the decision I want to be able to do it instantly, the waiting for the official paperwork may be all just too much for me! I then just need to filter it out to everyone who knows me by my married name. Bank first, methinks…

Oh, and then I have to deal with my poor madam being upset she can't change her name too... I have been told the school might do it for her within that setting, but obviously not on anything official.

She had the day off school yesterday as she's having another viral wheeze episode with the rotten cold she has at the moment. We mainly sat about in our 'jamas and played around in the morning and then we went to my parents to annoy them for a bit! Madam introduced them to the Lorax which they both giggled at and I went to the jobcentre again for a meeting with a training advisor. The result of which is me being booked on a course to update my IT skills... 

thinking about thinking

 

 

Do I spend too much time pondering things? Is that even possible? I've been aware of being a thinker for a large part of my life. I like to take things in and assess them. I make snap decisions about big life changes and yet it'll take me 3 weeks to decide whether I really am going to buy those shoes I need... (Shush, I do need new shoes sometimes).

 

I think the thinking is actually one of my defence mechanisms. It's that thing where I cope by intellectualising something. I spend so long trying to mould it to a shape I understand that I lose what it was in the first place. And if I don't understand then I try shoving it into a box of things I do. I don't think I'm explaining what I mean very well here...

 

I have a habit of needing to know everything about something and I feel uncomfortable if I don't. I don't like being in the position of having a finite amount of knowledge and then being pushed into that area where I don't know. I like to be able to explain what I'm doing, to myself and to others.

 

Obviously, this is different when I am specifically learning a new skill. Because I accept I'm coming from a starting point of zero. But it's more why I could never speak French to a native French speaker because all I'd be aware of is that I might be wrong.

 

I have a friend who is a native German speaker and I have never managed to have a conversation with her in anything other than English. Even though she knows I have a basic understanding and can follow her if she is speaking to her children... And my French is way better than my German.

 

I am so self-critical about mistakes that although I taught madam to sing Frere Jaques perfectly so that she could sing it for one of my old French teachers, I would not be able to perform the same! I don't know when this overwhelming self criticism came in.

 

I was fairly (and am) fairly confident in my abilities. I am not stupid. In fact I would even say I was quite bright. I am funny and easy to talk to. I have developed into a person I hope is nice to be around.

 

So why do I then beat myself up to a point of inaction over little things? I am so afraid to be wrong sometimes that I don't do it at all. Once I know that I might be judged for my performance I can no longer perform. Stagefright then? Can you get stagefright about a job?

 

Here is the crux of what I'm writing all this for. My friend found me a great job opportunity, which was exactly the kind of thing I think I would enjoy. And I've bottled it. Too afraid to apply for fear of rejection. I am so disappointed in myself, I really think I could have been good at it. I feel like I let my friend down who went out of her way to draw it to my attention and offered help and everything.

 

But I'm terrified of not measuring up somehow. I have not been for a proper interview for a proper job in years. And I mean years and years. Nearly 8 in fact. And I haven't been constantly working in a job all that time. I have been floating and rootless. I have been allowing myself to build up all these fears and throwing away all the confidence I had in my own abilities.

 

There is nothing that ruins your confidence like parenthood. The constant second guessing yourself and wondering if what you are doing is right.

 

You know, I really didn't mean to write all this today. I was going to write about going to madam's new school last night for a look around and a chat.

About how weird it was to be back in my old school 24 years since I left. But somehow something else has hijacked me. And this is probably the thing that has been brewing for the last couple of days. Niggling away, telling me I'm not good enough.

 

Letting me know that I threw away an opportunity that I've worked hard to be given. Ugh. I really don't like myself this week. And that's partly due to those good old monthly hormones and partly just because I always do. But I *wanted* to try hard for this and I stopped myself. I didn't even notice I was doing it.

 

I thought I'd learned the signs, but apparently I haven't learnt all of them. 

 

Now I have to stop beating myself up, accept that it didn't happen. Move on. Learn that I will have another chance. Learn that I need to accept all the helping...

 

Learn that I'm not a bad person...   

 



when a birthday comes along

 

 

Ah, birthdays. Always a time of self reflection. I am indeed now into another year and I feel as though I am no wiser and really no further in my life at all, frankly. But in this last year I have discovered an online community of friends that I could only have hoped of.

They give me guidance and support whenever I'm feeling low, particularly helpful after what's been happening in the last few days. They spur me on when I'm faltering and they prod me (virtually) with sharp sticks when I need that kick in the bum.

 

I feel as though my life has been enriched through these friendships and although I have only met a couple of these lovely people in real life (aside from the people I've known for years!) they are helping me feel less lonely.

 

I've been really struggling since Tuesday and it's events but the thing that has been proving hardest has actually been madam. I put in a lot of effort to try and get my house sorted, but madam just constantly destroys things. Or deliberately defaces things. I'm just not sure what to do with her any more.

 

It would be nice to think that I had another parent to help me and keep me going through this extraordinarily hard time. And as I've said before I couldn't imagine life without her. But oh that need for a break can be overwhelming sometimes.

 

Even today, when I just wanted a day without yelling we still ended up having a fight. I know that part of it is that constant, enforced, company we spend with each other. I'm often glad I don't have two to deal with, but a sibling would be nice for her as a distraction.

 

Yesterday as I was trying to get on with something she had gone into the dining room (which has a latch on to stop her) and opened a bottle of white spirit which had a child safety top and emptied it all over. How do I get around that kind of behaviour? The naughty step doesn't really work on her, confiscating things seems to have little effect. I hate myself when I lose it so much I slap her, because I keep telling her how wrong it is to hit people. Not a great example...

 

I got a Kindle today as my gift from my parents, I'm now going to fill it with as much free stuff as I can. Also, someone suggested you could add music, now I'm not sure whether that's possible on mine, but I'm gonna give it a good go!

 

Ok, just a short post today... Got a birthday to pretend to be excited about :)

   

Eviction is a four letter word

photo from twitter @EarthPix 

Yesterday was a somewhat mixed bag. I went to the job centre for my Work Focused Interview wherein we agreed I'm just going to concentrate on finishing college and then when we meet again they might be able to actually help (I don't believe this, I have no faith in the job centre to do anything).

Then I went home and set about the end of project "please don't evict me". I tidied, hoovered, mopped and generally cleaned my little bum off. I don't profess to be a tidy person, so this is really hard for me to spend a whole day doing. But I did my best and the house is transformed from what it was.

However, the nice man from the agency said he was going to recommend my landlord seek possession. And I just don't get it. I know that my version of clean is not perfect, but it was tidy. It was clean. I just don't know what else they want from me. They just tell me it's not acceptable.

Perhaps a big checklist that told me exactly what they wanted me to do to the place might have been an idea. Leave me alone with no guidance and I can only do my best. I'm really upset (as you can imagine). It feels like all the work I've been putting in has been a complete waste of time and I might just as well have left it the way it was.

I'm really pleased with how the house is. It's my house after all, until I leave it again. And apparently I'm going to have to pack my life up and move on again. Especially traumatic as I've read an article somewhere which says how bad that is for small children. This is our third house since she was born already. Number four hopefully will be more permanent.

It makes me feel like such a lousy parent to not even be able to keep a steady roof over my child's head. I find out on Tuesday which school I've managed to get her into. I don't even want to contemplate the fact that just because she has a place somewhere doesn't mean that'll be where she goes.

I really wanted to just bury my head and cry in bed all night. But I persuaded myself not to. And, for the first time in weeks, I actually had my bed all to myself all night. It was so nice to get an uninterrupted sleep... I did slightly console myself yesterday by buying some MJ memorabilia. And chocolate. I really need to get my eating back under control, but it's just not possible while I'm upset.

I am making beef and mushroom pie for dinner tonight. That's sort of healthy at least... I'm very much looking forward to friend H coming next week. It'll be nice to have someone else in the house. And she has good cheering up skills!

My lovely owly friend from twitter posted this link yesterday, which came at an opportune time. It's about how to keep it together when depressed and reading it was good for me. I still am worried that my façade will crumble in an embarrassing fashion in front of someone who doesn't know how hard it was to even get out of bed today.

But I've put on the face that I keep in a jar by the door and I've watched my new favourite TV show the Great British Sewing Bee and I'm going to get through today. It's not going to be pretty, but I'm going to do it anyway. Moment by moment, breath by breath.

Oh, and if you also like the show and don't already know; the lovely Tilly has a blog Tilly and the Buttons. It has some great tutorials and patterns. I've not finished exploring it yet. But I really want to have a go at making the Mathilde Blouse, which she made a version of in the program.

Just need to see if I can get a new peddle for my sewing machine first! Or maybe a new sewing machine... Mine is very small...

Oh. I do wish I had someone to cuddle. I nearly made madam come into my bed last night so that I had that company. I decided against it, and I'm glad. But I'm wary of what will happen if the husband does come to visit this weekend. I'm determined to try and put him off...

It seems ludicrous to have him come up for a birthday weekend with me when I have to try so hard to keep myself on an even keel when he's here. For madam's sake at least. I don't think I could manage it this week, and he absolutely cannot stay at our house this time.

Too many things... Just too many feels... 

running away from it all

Went for a lovely long walk this morning with my friend Tabatha Tweedie ,who writes a really great blog about dressmaking, and her little ones. Madam insisted on taking her bike, which did cause slight endangerment on occasions, but was fairly successful.

We had a nice chat and I updated her on my fun with eviction activities and she updated me on her plans too :) Lovely. Sadly, we did not plan in cake this time, but I'm sure now the weather is cheering up we'll be able to meet up and do walking (and possibly cakings) again soon.

I didn't blog yesterday as I was in a bit of a stress mode and couldn't focus my brain to it.

Madam decided she was running away yesterday afternoon. Now with most 4yr olds this wouldn't get far. But mine is jolly independent and confident and did make a fairly good break for it. She had been playing in front of my parents house on the cul-de-sac with the little girl from across the street. They had been riding their bikes up and down and were having great fun. But the little girl had to go somewhere and madam wanted to go to.

She came inside to get her coat on and told me what she wanted to do. I told her that she couldn't invite herself to things and that she couldn't go. She told me she would just go back to riding outside the house, which I said was fine as long as she kept where I could see her and remembered to get to a pavement if she saw a car.

But she then headed straight off to the other end of the street and with me shouting for her to make sure she stopped at the end proceeded to turn up the next street. As I was in bare feet I went back in the house for my shoes and then headed after her. However, when I got up to the top of the next cul-de-sac she was nowhere to be seen. I headed down the street and to the next one over. No sign of her.

I headed back to the house for coat and phone and decided to try the local park before I rang the police. As I rounded the corner before crossing the road I saw her crossing a bit further down. Fortunately the road was remarkably empty for once and she crossed safely. I managed to catch up with her at the park and made her come home. She was of the opinion she should be allowed to play!

After we got home I was trembling with both anger and relief whereas madam curled herself up on my dad's chair and promptly fell asleep. She slept for a couple of hours and I calmed myself with a coffee (not sure that's very calming) and a bit of distraction from the TV.

I have kept the front door locked since as she keeps attempting to escape again. She's very independent, as I said.

My parents have just got back and I have had to apologise for the mess madam has made in her bedroom with my mums old nail varnish (which she also used to make blue highlights in her hair). I think we might actually have to cut her hair to get it out...

Which kind of helps me make the decision about whether I'm going to get her hair cut or not! 

thoughts are king

Yesterday's post, which you can find here was a bit deep and meaningful for a Monday morning. But I make no apologies for it as I was incapable of thinking about anything else until I'd expressed that inner frustration. Having written it down I've managed to persuade my brain that it's registered and that we can move on to the next minor problem it would like to inflate unrealistically...

 

Last night I had a complete parenting fail as madam and I both fell asleep on the sofa until 4 this morning! She then came straight up to my bed with me, so she totally won the "I want to sleep with my mummy all night" battle. Drat. That'll make tonight so much harder as she's managed to get her own way once... She's ridiculously stubborn (can't think where she might have got that from!) and our battle of wills matches go on for hours. That'll be fun then. *sigh*

 

This morning there was less of a battle to get madam to school, which was a relief. She seems to have finally got the idea that things carry on around her whether she feels like interacting with it or not. She made a half-hearted attempt to get me to stay at school with her, but I merely had to say "no" and she accepted it. I'm so upset that I've had to let her learn about this side of life so soon. But I'll have to content myself with the knowledge that it'll be of use to her throughout her entire life. 

 

As we walked to school this morning she was telling me again about how daddy had punched me. Right down to demonstrating which bit of me he'd hit. I could happily throttle the husband for how he's made my daughter feel, but that wouldn't really be a good example on my part now, would it... 

 

I'm seeing the counsellor again this afternoon and having had something of a breakthrough where I admitted to my inner demons (which I wrote about here) I have a feeling she's going to be prodding the sore bit again. Not entirely looking forward to this. I've only got today and one more session to go and then the NHS can no longer help me. I'm a bit concerned that I will not be ready to stop then. But as I'm rubbish at endings I think that would be true no matter how many sessions I had.

 

I'm not sure what I do with my excess emotions once I don't have someone to talk to about it, I guess the blog will really come into it's own at that point. Then I figure you poor people will have to put up with even more rambling madness from me. And though I wish I could emulate some of my blogging heroes, I don't think I ever will be that skilled. 

 

Oh! I remembered something I was going to share with you on Friday... My college tutor used a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon as an example for us on Thursday evening. I knew I liked her... :)   

  

adventures in family

I've just had a rather stressful couple of days... Sunday was going pretty well, all chilled and relaxing. And then the husband phoned and announced he was in Newcastle and would "swing by" on his way back to Bristol. Now, I don't live anywhere near either of these two places so swinging by isn't usually something someone would do. Moreover, I worked out if he was coming then he'd be arriving just before madam's bed time. Great.

 

And sure enough, whilst I had madam in the bath, he arrived at my parents. Excellent. So he gave us a lift home and I made an attempt at getting madam in her bed as usual. No way. Not only was daddy here, but he'd brought food and coke. Coke! *despairs* I'm not sure whether she actually drank very much of it, but the bouncing off the walls that ensued implied she'd had some. She would not settle. She wanted to be with her daddy. Now this is totally understandable, but when you know you're going to have to get her up for school in the morning, it's not very welcome.

 

And she freaked when K had to go to the car for something he'd forgotten. She was convinced he was leaving. She had to come and sit with me to calm her down. Poor thing. In the end, the only way to get her to go to bed was by getting everyone to go to bed so she knew we'd all be there in the morning. She slept in with me and he was in her bed. 

 

Then I ended up spending most of the day with him yesterday. He walked madam to school with me, although he's not allowed inside. And she told him exactly why "you're not allowed in my school daddy, because you punched mummy." Out of the mouths of babes...

But he threatened to leave whilst she was there because it would be easier. For who? For him. I told him he couldn't do that to her and he was there when I picked her up. Her face when she saw him was wonderful and made my having to tolerate him so worthwhile. 

 

But then, he really did have to go. And she cried. She's never cried when he left before. Because she isn't used to him being there, really. But yesterday she was tired and she probably felt she hadn't had a decent amount of time with him. And she cried. She made him cry (which was quite satisfying (sorry, but it was)) and she didn't stop. My heart was breaking for her. She doesn't understand and because daddy had actually come to her house she seemed to have decided that meant he was moving back in with us. It's never going to happen, but what child doesn't want  their parents together. I had to pick her up and hold her like I used to do when she was tiny. And she clung to me as she hasn't done in a good long while.

 

It was just horrible.

 

And then he was gone. And I got left with a distraught child and all the responsibility. 

I coddled her, and she got to choose her favourite tea. Then we went to see my mum and dad as it's dad's birthday today and we wanted to drop off his presents. And she finally seemed to relax again, like things were how they should be. And here were the people who are always here for her, who always love her. And don't offer to buy her things when she's crying and inconsolable, because who needs things when what you want is for your daddy to just not leave. Again.

 

After we got home and I managed to get her in bed, she was being clingy, I sat in the living room and tried not to dwell. But the house was full of him somehow and seemed to make my skin prickly. I was shattered too, so I went to bed and tried to find some peace. It obviously worked as I didn't even wake up when my nightly interloper crept in.

 

She has gone to school today dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. I didn't have the heart to stop her. And after school we're going to go and spend the £10 pocket money he left her. She wants a Barbie.

 

And a dinosaur! 

 

Gotta love that kid :)   

when angry, rant

I had a bit of an epic chat with my mum about my divorce yesterday. We were standing in the sunshine at the park watching my little girl zoom up and down the zip wire. It seems a strange place to talk about something so sad when there were children laughing and happy (looking) families all around.

 

But it's the next step to help me move forwards. Sort out the debts, sort out the hoarding and get rid of the marriage that's holding me down. I'm looking forward to a future where all my decisions are only for me (and madam, obvs). I know that technically the divorce will be fairly straight-forward.

 

Husband and I don't own anything together, we don't have joint finances though we may have some joint debts. We never owned a home and we (I) sold both the cars when we moved back to my home town.

 

He pays me no maintenance and I genuinely don't think that, even if a judge ordered him to, he actually would. And I don't even want it. If he's paying for me then we're still connected and I want as clean a break as I can manage. I want my daughter to be looked after, of course I do, but he never has, so why start now.

 

The only thing I can take away from the 10 years that I gave him is my daughter. And if he tries to take her from me, he's going to have one hell of a fight on his hands.

How can he tell me he'd provide for her when he doesn't now? How will he put her needs before his own when he hasn't so far? Where does he think that they'd live? Madam has always been here (that she remembers), always had her nana, grandpa and uncles and aunts around her. She has a massive family that love her lots and support me amazingly.

And he shares a house with men I don't know. Not exactly a good environment for her. If he doesn't see her it's his fault for having moved a 5hr trip away from us.

 

He has done nothing but get in his own way. I'm not for one moment professing to be perfect,far from it, but I am trying.

I spent all those months getting up in the night (cause even before he was in the US he never did) and it was me that had to teethe her, wean her, deal with her tantrums and destructive streak.

 

She overwhelms me at times, but I will never give up as that was the choice I made when I saw those two blue lines on the pregnancy test. A child is for life, my child is my life. And he doesn't care enough to even phone her once a week.

 

She's too intelligent to let him mess her around. She worked him out the moment she saw him punch me. She's worked that angle to get everything she wants from him. And some days, when we're both particularly shouty and annoying to each other, she says she's going to live with him.

 

The solution to this? Point out that if she lives with daddy, mummy won't be there. She can't imagine that.

 

I'm sorry,this wasn't ment to be a rant. I'm just trying to process my feelings. And I guess I'm not quite in a rational place yet.

No-one should cross me if they know what's good for them. In the words of Bruce Banner, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

 

 

She stole my heart away, and look how she knows it! (she's less than 24hrs old here)