Just texted “TP” with the following message:-
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Just incase your eyesight was failing you this a.m. I have picked up your dirty socks from the sitting room floor…….
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Phone just beeped, got this back:-
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Oops will wear them again tonight. They have a few more days left in them.
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At this point I must add they were the socks he put on to go running in last night, but as a dutiful Skivy, they are already on the washing line wafting of Aerial and Comfort, rather than sweaty feet and old trainers – Yuk!
The Girl Child 3 is a messy little Cow, to say the least. Not just messy, but dirty. After so many arguments over the state of her room, arguements between me and “The Pig” ,Me and Girl Child and TP and GC, after Xmas I announced to TP we were not going to say anything and that I had decided she should just live in a pig sty and if I couldn’t possibly get in there to clean up, then so be it.
By the time we hit Easter, the state of the room was beyond belief and as the holidays began, I said “that is enough you have 2 weeks off of school, you are 16 years of age and you are doing it before you go back to school, Full Stop”.
The first week past and there were trips to Thorpe Park, days spent at Shopping Centres with friends, dates with boyfriend, you name it, she was doing it. The second week arrived and we got to Wednesday and I told her not to make any arrangements for the next day as she had to do the room. Lots of moaning under breath took place as she wandering off out. Following morning, she announced the boyfriend was coming round at 11am. Annoyed, I told her that she still had to do the room whether he was here or not and I was happy for him to sit and watch her. So the boyfriend duly arrived and I began to hear things being moved/dropped etc from upstairs. GC appeared a couple of times for bin bags. After a couple of hours, I made some lunch and took it upstairs, only to find, shock of horrors, that GC was sitting on her bed doing revision and the boyfriend was the one doing all the work. Now we are talking hardcore filth that Kim and Aggy would have been proud to make a programme of. Cups with mildew in the bottom, dirty plates, an assortment of lunch boxes still containing her school pack up of sandwiches crafted by my own fair hand, which were now such a bright green they would be sure to bring on a bilious attack and we haven’t even talked about the clothes yet. Not only were there clean clothes still on hangers which I had washed and ironed that she had discarded onto the floor when making outfit decisions, but the dirty clothes as well and I am not just talking outerwear, how the hell could she sit there whilst the boyf trundled off to our wash bin with her smalls? She seems to have the ability to wrap a lot of people and especially boys around her little finger and talks to boyfriends like bits of shit.
When I walked in and saw the situations I couldn’t help but say “You are a bloody cheeky little cow, how the hell could you sit there whilst boyfriend does all the work?” she just giggled and said “well if I do really bad in my GCSE’s you will moan and I need to revise” I chortled back with “if I was your boyfriend I would dump you on the basis of the fact that you are a dirty little cow” and walked out. When I came down and told TP, he was as astounded as I was and just shook his head, speechless for once!
So 7 hours and 9 bin bags later the poor sods task was complete. Over the following few months, every morning after she had left for school I would go in there and tidy up. The mirror would be off the wall, which she would have used to put her make up on, there would be last nights pyjamas on the floor, along with yesterdays school shirt and underwear, cups, glasses and plates from whatever she had eaten for breakfast wouldn’t have been bought down before she left, make up would be strewn all over the un-made bed and usually a few smears of foundation or mascara or mac lipgloss would adorn the cream covers and pillow cases just for good measure. Happily I cleared this up everyday and made the bed and replaced all the soft toys and the room was in such a good way, it meant when I actually did the housework upstairs it was a pleasure to do her room and know it was clean. I don’t know where it all went wrong again really. Perhaps it was me thinking, this is ridiculous, she is now almost 17 and I am clearing up behind her, everyday, as if she were an oversized toddler, but gradually the room became a mess again. About 3 weeks ago both TP and I had noticed a 2 finger Kit Kat on her floor, just inside the door, which means it gets walked past on numerous occasions throughout the day, especially as she is off on school holidays. Both of us determined that we shouldn’t be the one to pick it up, we have mentioned it about a million times, but naturally, to no avail. After GC had gone out last night in a stunning Warehouse dress and Oasis heels which are a copy of a Jimmy Choo pair, I went out to the hallway and saw a kit kat sitting on the stairs, only 3 from bottom. I picked up the offending kit kat and saw that it had a hole through its heart. The incision was about the size of a 5p in circumference and I couldn’t for the life of me think what had stabbed it and bought it to its final resting place. Then the penny dropped, everything in my brain clicked and fell into the place, that bloody little cow had trod on it as she left her room, carried the offending choccy bar, across the hall, down the stairs, only to discard it as she left the house, kicked it off most probably! As the vision of this occurrence came into my head and as I stared at the kit kat, I just couldn’t help but grin, don’t ask me why, but a smile as wide as that of a Cheshire Cat, spread across my face and I began to shake my head in amazement……
Yesterday I was all about being grateful for what we have and that post was bought about by reading Chic Mama’s Blog and by my 2 friends who I had been talking to the day before. Today I feel “back to black”.
After our nice weekend where “The Pig” and I only gritted our teeth at each other once, on Sunday afternoon, whilst I was making a phonecall to an automated service on his behalf, the niceties soon disappeared.
Monday night he came in from work, in a foul mood. He had rang earlier in the day to say he was back on his Keep Fit regime and didn’t want any Supper and that he would be going out running when he got home. He walked in and it was a constant round of questions. Who did this, where is that, Did you make a dinner for my mum, no, why the hell not, there is no excuse (I think the fact I didn’t have enough to feed other people is a good enough excuse actually), I can’t find my other trainer, where is it? I told him where the trainer was, but of course that wasn’t good enough, I actually had to get up and find it in the cupboard, all the time moaning that if he hadn’t left them on the floor in the hall and put them away himself, he would know exactly where they were. You leave shoes laying around all the time, yes I do but I am the one who does all the housework and clearing up so it doesn’t matter, housework is that what you call it. He went into the kitchen and I heard the fridge open and something fall on the floor, I heard him say “oh bollocks” and with that he pissed off for his Run. I couldn’t bring myself to go out there to see if he had made a mess, so I waited till he got back and when he was getting a drink, I went to put the kettle on when I saw a load of coleslaw on the floor. What a lazy bastard. Naturally, I started with “why on earth would you not clear this up” then “I washed the kitchen floor today and now look at it, the coleslaw has left greasy marks on the wood” this of course was whilst I was wiping it up with kitchen towel and going for the Mop. The only response I got ,which is the worse was “Oh well” other than that, I was completely ignored. Arsehole.
Tuesday night he went out – (large sigh of relief).
Wednesday brought a similar scenario. He had rang earlier and I had asked if he would like Jacket Potato and Salad for Supper and he said he would, I thought this was a good healthy and low fat option for him. He walked in and I asked 3 times what he wanted to drink whilst he ignored me and talked to the kids (or questioned them more like). I finally got an answer, as each time I went up an octave, got his drink and started to prepare his food. I was chopping up Lettuce when he said “I don’t want Salad”. OK fine, I threw the Lettuce in the bin and got the potatoes out of the oven. I had just sliced them open when he said “I can take it from here”. So I downed tools and cleared off. He ate his food, then appeared with 1/2 a Lemon Meringue Pie, keep fit regime over for this week then. Girl Child 3 was on her way out as he got home, so the questions started about where she was going, who’s party is it, is she coming home, no, where is she staying? Upon which he pulled a face as much as to say he didn’t believe her. After he had consumed the LM pie, I said “what is wrong with you?” “Fed up with the Lies” he replied “I told you she was using MSN on that Computer, thats what broke the last one and I made it clear, when we bought that one, that she wasn’t to go on it”.
So that was Wednesday and again I slunk off to Girl Child 1’s old room as I have done continously for a while now.
Yesterday I was working. GC 1 looked after our son as she was day off work. GC 2 was still at the friends she had stayed at the night before and GC 3 the same. During the day, I got a text from 3 saying she was now at S’s (her on/off boyfriend of late) so I wasn’t really expecting her home till the evening. GC 2 came home and 1 went back to her house. GC3 came home earlier than expected and stayed until “The Pig” got home as 2 had a 2 hour driving lesson at 8pm. Whilst with a Client, I got a call from TP, which consisted of a barrage of abuse about GC 3 using the Computer “I told you she wasn’t to go on it” and I just said ” I am with a customer, I haven’t seen GC3 today to tell her anything, goodbye” and hung up, well I had to, I wasn’t being rude. Whatever he had to say could have waited, he knows I can’t speak at work. When I had finished, I texted him to say if she had been on the computer, it wasn’t her fault as I haven’t seen her to tell her not to use it, so please don’t start on her when you get home, if she didn’t know, it isn’t her fault. I got in and 3 had gone out (she had text me to say she was staying at Lucy’s) and 2 was still in as Driving Instructor was late, as usual. Something from the kitchen smelled good, I asked what was cooking as TP made his way to the kitchen and was chopping up salad, pulling chicken burgers from the oven and began stuffing pitta bread with all the goodies. “Um that looks nice, are you eating the 2 burgers that are left?” I asked “Yes” came his reply. “Oh don’t mind me then” I said “I won’t” he replied “and you know what you can do if you don’t like it”. Piss off is what he means, but if he thinks for one minute, I would leave my home and uproot my kids when it would be so easy for him to walk away, he has another think coming. We all know he ain’t going anywhere, if he didn’t live with a house full of people whose life he continually makes a misery, he really wouldn’t know what to do with himself would he? How about Line Dancing, that would fill your evenings nicely love! Or start a Blog, tell the world how you hate your wife and stepdaughters, yeah go on, make the blogsphere feel sorry for you, works for me! See lives up to his name doesn’t he? So I grabbed a pot of Hummus and made do. GC 2 didn’t look very happy and I asked what was wrong. She just shrugged her shoulders and went on her Driving Lesson. Strained silence in the Sitting Room with TP sitting with a face like Thunder (nothing new there then). “So GC3 is staying at Lucy’s is she?” he asked “apparently” I replied “likely story” he spat “what?” “Probably didn’t stay at Hannah’s either last night, probably stayed at Steve’s” “What” I asked again in amazement “probably staying over that Ryan’s” Oh my god, did I just hear that all correctly? TP is accusing GC 3 of not staying where she is saying she is. 2 hours later TP goes to bed, GC 2 gets back from driving lesson. TP shouts down the stairs, and tell her she hasn’t had her full 2 hours, she can’t afford the lessons as it is, he never gives her the full time. Oh fuck off. I said to GC 2 “So 3 is staying at Lucy’s is she?” “Of course she is, bloody hell Mum, he hasn’t got you doubting her whereabouts has he?” “He started on me as soon as he got in, asking questions, where is this, where is that, there aren’t any cups, who has ate the Viennese Whirls”. I told him I don’t know I have been at Sophie’s all day. So looks like she got the brunt of the Interrogation that I have been getting every night this week. The thing that really annoys me is he used to make similar accusations over GC 1, whenever she was doing something or staying out. He never does it with 2, but obviously it has all started with 3 now. Apart from the fact it shouldn’t bother him anyway, he needs to understand how old they are getting. GC 3 was 7 when we got married and will be 17 in a couple of weeks, they are young women now and you have to trust they are, where they say they are. You can’t go accusing when you don’t know.
So a week of moaning, accusing, making everyone’s life a misery, as usual and I know my situation is not as bad as some, I have mentioned recently, but it feels like bloody mental torture and really gets me down. I guess that family meal he was going to take us all on this weekend is off the agenda now and no doubt he will go out tonight and spend another pyjama clad weekend in front of the TV – what joy!
I would love for nothing more than my husband to stop being a moany old git, for this job he has to become permanent and for us to be like a proper family that does stuff together and for him to be the person he was when we first met, but sometimes we have to be grateful. I recently stumbled across the Blog of Chic Mama (check her out on my blogroll) and have been reading about all the awful things that are going on in her life since her husband left her and then there are my friends, S and K.
S was married for about 12 years to a man that had worked his way up from scratch in the City to be a real high flyer in Finance, with large salary and even bigger bonus’s. Then suddenly 3 years ago she got a bit suspicious that something was going on, employed a private detective and discovered he was having an affair. They have one child, aged 8, who was much wanted and conceived by IVF who now doesn’t see her Daddy as he has moved abroad last month. For the past three years, S has lived in the marital home and recieved her ex husbands wages as maintenance whilst he has lived off his bonus. He married his mistress 18 months ago and bought a home worth a couple of million in knightsbridge but was recently made redundant. S still has a mortgage on the home, which she has been paying and although they no longer need a 6 bedroom property, her hands are tied because she can’t get another mortgage to buy something smaller. She is angry and upset that he has wasted millions, in the past few years and she should be mortgage free to do as she wishes with the house, now that there are no maintenance payments coming in, as a) he doesn’t have any money, or says he doesn’t and b) he has moved somewhere that the courts ruling in this country, stand for nothing. I do feel for her as her and her daughters future seem so uncertain and god knows when the little girl will see her Daddy again. Men seem to have very short memories concerning their children and their responsibilities once a marriage breaks up. The children that they once adored, seem to be erased from their memories, 90% of the time. It is all very sad, for S and for Chic Mama.
Then there is friend K. A charmed life, or so it appears. Adored by her husband, lavished with designer goodies as gifts, her husband would really buy her anything she wanted but she is not happy. Her job has been getting her down for a very long time. The fact that she works, enables them to have the lifestyle they have and even though she is so unhappy, she is afraid to give it up, in this current economic climate, even though she is constantly crying and putting a huge burden on her husband and child. She has worked at this company for many years but changes take place and she has been given more responsibility in the past year than she wants or needs and lets face it, unless you are Margaret Thatcher, who does, in their mid forties? surely this the time when you need to change down a gear, certainly this is how it feels for me, you just can’t keep up with the pace of running a home and looking after kids when you start getting older can you? So anyway, K is constantly in tears, takes it out on hubby and child constantly, which she admits, she even told me that she tells them she should leave as she is making them so unhappy. I of course, don’t agree with the fact she says this in front of an 11 year old and she knows she shouldn’t. She is on holiday from work at the moment but has been asked to go in on Friday and she is filled with dread at the thought. She says she gets in the car in the morning, and cries her way through the journey. I have told her she needs to look into other options but she has no idea what she might like to do and does not want to give up work completely as their lifestyle would change drastically. She openly admits she is a nightmare to live with and gives her husband a “dogs life”.
So as an outsider my thoughts on both my friends situations are this:- I do feel sorry for S, but sometimes when people have had a charmed life, it is much harder to face normality. When TP was out of work, we had to make adjustments and virtually all of my designer wardrobe and bag collection went on Ebay – we just had to do it and I was lucky that I had things to sell that would cover my Son’s school fees. S, although having had lots of money, has never been into designer goodies, therefore there would be precious little she could part with to make some cash. K on the other hand, would make a fortune if she sold off her possessions, but looking at her situation as an outsider, I have finally come to the conclusion that her husband buys her this stuff in hope that it will make her happy, which of course it does, until she next has to go to work, so it is a short lived fix.
So as much as I wish I had the perfect marriage and that my husband was not a “Pig” most of the time, there is lots to be grateful for. My children are all in good health and have a wealth of opportunities in front of them. They have all been privately educated till the age of 11 and then gone on to one of the best State Grammar Schools in the County and although I still feel that I deserve to be loved and cherised, if that aint’ gonna happen, I just pray that my kids get to feel that for the rest of their lives and if there is such a thing as a “soul mate” that they all find their’s and live happily ever after. Would I swap my life for those of my 2 friends, probably K’s because she has an adoring husband and I would sell off some designer goodies and give up work – defo!
Not quite sure if “TP” has read the Blog. This may have, on some occassions, explained for the absence of Posts concerning Family life. He hasn’t said he has read it, as he sometimes has, whilst having a Hissy Fit, because I have “slagged him off”. He doesn’t seem to understand that it is far better for me to confide in the Blogsphere than to discuss our business with my friends, who would all wonder what the bloody hell we were still doing together! Far better to pretend that everything in the garden is rosy, stiff upper lip and all that!
Anyway he only went out one night last week, Thursday, and this is perfectly acceptable. Most peoples husbands pop out for a beer, often more than once a week, it is just when we are left with a situation like last weekend when it leaves him useless and incapable of doing anything with us, or our son, more to the point. So he came home Friday with a Hersheys’s Peanut Butter Cup Chocolate Bar for us all and said to Little Man, “would you like to do something tomorrow?” at this I nearly choked on the 1st cup! God, had he actually taken something onboard that I had said, or indeed read about my thoughts and feelings on the Blog? “Would you like to go out to lunch” he asked the boy and then proceeded to give him a couple of options of where we could go and excitedly, the Boy made his choice.
Saturday morning came and “TP” arose about 10am, which was good, about 2 hours earlier than the last few weeks. He jumped in the shower, came down and joined me in the garden where we sat absorbing the heat and sunshine for a moment. He rubbed his eyes and said how much he felt getting back to work was taking its toll on him after being out of work for 15 months. I do understand this, naturally, having been a commuter myself for many years, but I used to come home to washing, ironing, housework and 3 children, which he doesn’t have to worry about. His only concerns, once indoors are what is on the T.V. that evening and also to be fair, he could get an earlier coach a couple of times a week, I doubt he is actually staying in the office until 6pm every night.
So we trotted off just before 12, and made our way to the end of the road and then down to the beach and arrived about 15 minutes later at our destination. As we sat outside and made our Menu choices. the Boy, piped up and said “its really nice us all going out together, we should do this more often” and of course he is right, but money has been tight for a long time so it is not something that has been an option of late. “TP” then said that we would go out next week, the whole family including eldest daughter and her boyf, that we should take the opportunity to do it now, incase the 2 month contract doesn’t turn into either a permanent position or a longer term and that he would allow a budget of £150.
After lunch, we attempted to walk off our 3 course meal by visiting my in-laws and finally got home late afternoon. The girls were at their Dads this weekend, so it was just the 3 of us for our evening in front of the television. He has made an effort and the improvement in the weather has lifted my mood, which just goes to show that I probably have SAD disorder, as I was so down in the dumps last week what with the rain and all. His clothes are still strewn over the bed and the floor and I am still in the spare room, but I am hoping to get him to put the stuff away in his black hole of a wardrobe at some point today as I really need to clean the room this week, wish me luck!
This Blog is becoming more like an online diary, with precious little to report on fun things, or kids arguements, but more about my need to write about what is going on between “The Pig” and I. God knows things have not been easy, it all went “tits up” the day we married if you ask me, but I always thought everything would be alright and the stark reality that it won’t be, is really and finally hitting home. We have never been like a normal family. He is more like his Father than he would want to admit, his Dad never did anything with the kids, it was always left to his Mum and although he swore, when our little boy was younger, that he would never be the same – he is. Lets face it when you can’t even make the effort to walk to a local pub for lunch as I suggested last Saturday, or spend an hour playing footie with your son, then I think it is fair to say, one is not much of a devoted family man. The fact that his nights out with his friends take precedence over everything else in his life and those nights then leave him unable to do anything at the weekend because he is so bloody tired, well it just ruins everything for the rest of us, him dossing about in his bloody pyjamas. Is it any wonder I feel bored shitless with my life? bored shitless with him?
He did ring this morning, surprisingly. He asked how things were and if everyone was alright, all the usual stuff. Then he bought up the subject of money and asked me to get a rather large sum out of the Bank for him. When I enquired why he needed so much, he got all arsey and said he owed money to someone as he had borrowed some cash to go out those 2 nights last week. Naturally I said how dissapointed I was with this and then he starting shouting “It is my fucking money, not yours, just get it out…” at which point I hang up.
About teatime tonight, I was surprised to get a text saying “I am out with the boys tonight” – no surprise there then.
On a normal working day, I have usually just thrust my hands into a red hot sink full of Fairy bubbles (cause hands that do dishes, can be as soft as your face ….), to wash up the breakfast things, when my bloody mobile rings….
The Pig: Only just got here, traffic bad this morning
MWF: Really
TP: What you doing, what took you so long to answer?
MWF: I was washing up and had to dry my hands.
TP: Oh OK then, ring you later.
All the time me thinking “don’t bother”
Then we hit lunchtime and if it is a day that I am at home, you can rest assured that no sooner have I sat down with a tub of Cottage Cheese and half a dozen Oatcakes, my mobile will ring….
MWF: Hullo (choking on oatcake)
TP: Just popping out to get a sandwich, thought I’d ring you, what have you been up to?
MWF: Usual, housework, ironing, washing.
TP: Oh OK then, ring you when I am on the coach.
Honestly what is the point? If he rang to say “I love you” or “could you wear the red nightie tonight” – then fair enough, but for a load of old crap, there really is no point and every day it is so repetative! The same bloody questions day in, day out.
Then at dinner time, usually in the middle of cooking for the kids and yes you guessed it, my mobile starts ringing…
TP: Alright?
MWF: I am dishing up dinner.
TP: Oh OK, what is for dinner then?
At this stage, I tell him, but he normally says things like “no its OK I don’t fancy that” or “can you do me..?.”
So as you can see, his phone calls a) always come at the wrong time and b) never fail to wind me up.
There were no phonecalls yesterday, as expected and again, none today, well so far, anyway.
He didn’t go out last night and my stomach did a somersault as I heard his key in the door at 8pm. We never spoke until he started to ask questions through our Son “where are the girls?” he said, “dunno” answered boy. I piped up “one is at the cinema and one is at her friends” he ignored me and staring at our son said “where are they?”. Honestly talk about test your patience.
As there was no call about Dinner yesterday, I left a rather large portion of Cottage Pie. After the “asking questions through child” malarky (cause he didn’t want to ask me anything), I piped up “there is some Cottage Pie in the kitchen” he responded with “if you think I am eating that after it has been sat out for hours and not put in the fridge” I retorted with “you can’t put hot food in the bloody fridge, it has to cool right down first. We didn’t eat till 6.30pm so it is sitting out, there covered in a teatowel, don’t worry no flies have got on it”. Honestly, test your patience don’t they? Half an hour later “The Pig” came out of the kitchen with a huge plateful of Pie (so predictable). Later on when I went out to the kitchen, I saw that he had eaten the whole bloody lot! “Not bad for someone who didn’t want it” “It’s amazing what you will eat when you are starving, it was tasteless, bland and tasteless, you are supposed to put some seasoning or something in, you know” “Well I thought it was fine, thank you and to be honest, after the last one you made a few weeks back, I have been put off of seasoning for good, you threw in half a pot of mixed herbs and the mash was more like white sauce, slop on a plate it was” “at least it was tasty”. Whatever. So at 10pm I slid off to the spare room again which was just aswell because he hadn’t moved the clothes off the bed and this morning when I went in, he had just moved all the clothes, to on top of my side. Obviously prefers to cuddle up to something smelling of Bold 2 in 1 rather than Ren Otto Rose Body Wash – Fool.
If he appears tonight, he will be greeted by a mish mash of frozen offerings. I have no potatoes until Sainsburys arrive between 9 and 10 this evening and have used up all the oven chips, so there are none to cook fresh. In the microwave stands: 1/4 of Pizza, 1 jumbo Fishcake, 2 Chicken Goujons, chips and peas (well the kids all wanted something different). Can you see him eating Oven Chips at 8pm that were cooked at 5pm and need to be reheated in the microwave?
So although the telephone silence has been refreshing in some ways, the thing is, the fact he is not ringing is winding me up as well, I don’t like the “will he, won’t he” go out tonight thing and the not knowing if he wants to eat supper or what he wants to eat for supper. Still can’t have everything can we?
For the last 15 months I had “The Pig” at home and out of work. A victim of the Recession. Sure there had been a few interviews, but nothing much to speak of, until 3 1/2 weeks ago when a two month contract was offered, out of the blue. We weighed up the pro’s and con’s and both decided that it was in his best interests to take the position, for his self esteem, if nothing else. It was a shame that it was just before the kids summer holidays and it of course meant there would be no holiday for us as a family, this summer, but we hope that the 2 months might lead to something more permanent.
Having lost a lot of weight on his fitness regime, which he started on 1st Jan, he looked fantastic in his suit, really handsome and I felt so proud the first day he left home at 6.15am for his commute into London. I was a bit worried to think that someone might actually find him fanciable, after all he can put on the charm to outsiders, as he once did me, we were married before I saw the Jeckyl and Hyde side of his character and I knew that the nights out drinking would enevitably start again, even though he swore blind that they wouldn’t.
Well sure enough, I was right, but there was something about last week and his subsequent behaviour this weekend, that really got to me. It seems there is little going on at the moment that makes good laughing blog fodder, everything feels so serious and I am struggling to turn anything that goes on in the house, into a laughable event, so forgive me if this post does not contain anything to bring a smile to your face, I wish something could do that to me. Anyway, Thursday night, I get a phone call to say that he is going out after work. OK fair enough. Friday, as he is due to finish work, I get a text saying “as you would probably expect, I am going out tonight”. Saturday morning or should I say lunchtime, he appears. Unshaven and in a friends shirt, usual story. He showers and comes down in a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. I said “I was rather hoping the three of us could go for lunch today, with the girls being at work” “no I don’t think so” came his reply. So Saturday afternoon boredom set in, he was dozing within a couple of hours and I myself was really tired as I always seem to wake at the crack of dawn during the summer, so I snuggled down on the sofa and slept for about 2 hours. Later that evening we checked through the T.V. channels and decided upon an Indiana Jones film on Sky. Obviously the kids didn’t want to sit and watch it as they all went off to do different things. At 9pm “The Pig” gets up out of the chair and pronounces he is off to bed. Charming.
Sunday came and as usual I was up about 6am. At 11.45, I start to hear movement above and shortly after he appears, again in T-shirt and pyjama bottoms, so I assumed it would be another boring day, stuck indoors. If I had said that to him I know he would have said “well nothing is stopping you from going out” but to me, that is not the point, it is about doing things as a family, which we never do. When Daughter 1 had a day off work last week, we took the little man out, but it was obvious yesterday he wasn’t even going to get a kick about in the garden with his Dad. Again, if I had mentioned this, the answer would have been “well there is nothing stopping you” but forgive me if I am wrong , don’t Mums do the housework, washing, bath the kids and comfort them when they are hurt. Different with the girls, but with boys, isn’t it the Dads who go into the garden for a game of cricket, tennis or football? and Mum just laughs at their antics from the kitchen window whilst she is washing up? Nothing gives me greater pleasure than watching Man and Boy having fun together, little man adores his Dad.
Whilst out of work the only thing “The Pig” did around the house was cook. I was grateful for that, but still used to get frustrated as I sweated like a pig cleaning the house whilst he sat there watching This Morning. He did bugger all before, but now he does absolutely nothing, I guess now he is the bread winner again, he feels everything at home is down to me, but I do work some days, it is on a self employed basis and only when required, but sometimes over the last year, has been as much as 4 days a week, but now with childcare issues, I am having to turn some work down and this week only did one day, although it was a 12 hour day. Mid afternoon yesterday, he came into the kitchen whilst I was cooking, I asked if he could put some salt into the dishwasher as I had noticed it hadn’t washed up very well from the night before. He did this without complaint, which quite surprised me and I only asked him as I would have forgotten by the time I had finished baking, being such a Div on the memory front. Late last night I went to load the dishwasher as usual, when suddenly I realised that I hadn’t heard it buzzing away whilst I continued with the cooking after “The Pig” had put the salt in. I went into the front room to enquire if he had switched it on, “No” he said “Why the fuck not?” I asked, “Why would I” came his response and then all hell was let loose, I just couldn’t stop myself “you fucking idiot, surely I didn’t have to ask you to do such a thing, it was fucking obvious you were supposed to switch the fucking thing on, I have just loaded it up and now I have to unload it, and wait till I get up in the morning before I can load it again…..” all the time he is mimicking me, just as my little brother used to do when he was about 7, this really winds me up and always makes me think I wish I had a carving knife in my hand at these times. “Shut up” said daughter 2 from the other end of the room, the only child around, or awake at this time. I had to get him back for the mimicking and the best way to hit him below the belt is usually with money, so I said “oh by the way, thanks for the jeans you bought me last week, I am gonna buy another pair this week” “no your not, your a thief you are” oh hysterical, a thief, I ask you! “Give me the bank card” “No, get your own bloody bank account if you want a bank card and control of the money, your too bloody lazy to walk into the bank and open an account” “Well I have my Abbey National account” “sure you do and no idea where the bloody card is, idiot, good night” “I can go in there and get it sorted” “whatever”. With that I sloped off to bed, in Daughter 1’s old room. I wanted to cry but tears only just touched my eyelashes, there wasn’t enough there to actually make a visible trickle down my face, this made me angry too, as I thought I would feel better, had I been able to have a good old grizzle. I don’t know if it is the crap weather, the thought of not getting a holiday or what, but I feel really down at the moment. When I got up this morning, as expected the Master Bedroom is still in a complete mess. There is a massive pile of clothes on the floor in front of his wardrobe which has been there for well over a week, which I keep asking him to pick up. I don’t know what is clean or dirty, all I do know is, it is making it difficult for me to open my wardrobe door, not that he would give a shit. He slept with his pile of clean socks and underwear on the bed, that I had put on there from yesterdays washing. It was so predictable that he wouldn’t have sorted it even though I asked Saturday and Sunday, but after the row last night, were left there yet again to spite me. He is a complete Wanker, of that there is no doubt and of course I want to pick the whole lot up and set fire to it. He has the cheek to moan about the kids rooms, but here we have a grown man who will step out of a pair of boxers and leave them where they fall. Today I hate him, probably more than I ever have. I really do think I need a Holiday. With just a small amount of effort, we could be like a normal family, but he is not prepared to put any effort in whatsoever. He always used to play in the garden with our little boy or take him for walks down the beach, but has done nothing with him for weeks and weeks. I have always stayed put, for the sake of our son, but if he is not getting anything out of life by being around his Dad, is there any point in hanging around? and where can I get a few grand deposit for a rented house? “The Pig” would never leave. I cannot physically get him out, could any wife? I have packed his clothes many a time, he just unpacks them and ignores my rants. It would be so easy to love him, with just a little effort from him and it is no good telling me to talk to him and explain how I feel, he will not talk, full bloody stop. What cracks me up, is before my night out last Saturday, I got a cuddle! he doesn’t like it when I go out, funny that…..
The time had come when I could at last upgrade my mobile phone. I got a new mobile last March with T-Mobile and took out the insurance. Whilst on holiday last August, I dropped the phone, by the pool and broke it completely. I had already dropped it once so the screen had a crack in it already, but the second drop finished it off completely! I rang the insurance company on my return and the operator got a bit funny and then requested that I sent her my holiday documentation! “Your having a fucking laugh” I screamed (from an old mobile I had found in the junk drawer) “well if you broke it abroad, I need proof that you were abroad” “I could have told you I dropped it in the house, I was only making conversation” “yes but you did tell me, so now I need proof that you were there” “I’ll tell you what love, I’ll email you a picture of my white bits, shall I? and meanwhile, cancel my fucking policy with immediate effect, what a joke!”. So policy was cancelled and I backed up my instructions with the bank. So finally the upgrade was due and I am now, or as of Saturday, the proud owner of a Nokia something or other, with a touchscreen. I rang Directgov this morning and got put on to an automated service, “press 1 for…. and 2 for….” ok, so can someone tell me where the numbers are for me to select my desired department cause I can’t see any! Then Daughter 2 texted me “can you send me Daughters 1’s number please?”. Well I tried and tried but couldn’t find a way of doing so, so I rang her and said her number is blah blah blah. Oh dear, I remember laughing at my mum when televisions first came with remote controls and she didn’t have a clue how to change channels or alter the volume and now look at me, I can’t even operate a touchscreen mobile phone ,neither can I work in anything other than inches, feet, miles and pints and the metric system did make an appearance when I was at school I’m sure! Guess this proves that I am getting really old……
Oh and why, when I was getting the new phone out of its box when it first arrived, did “The Pig” walk in the sitting room and say “is that your new phone” whilst rolling his eyes in his head? No you twat, its a cream doughnut and why the fuck the eye rolls? It is an upgrade, fuckwit, that means it was FREE! so don’t worry I haven’t squandered any of your first weeks wages from the first job you have had in 14 months – yet!
I spoke to Child 1 on Friday and asked if I would see her on Saturday (yesterday) and she had said “yeah probably”. Since moving in with the boyf, we usually see her a couple of times a week, after work, when she either a) can’t be bothered to cook b) has no food in or c) the boyf is out and she can’t be bothered to sort a meal out for herself. This really winds “The Pig” up as he points out, on a regular basis, that they have more income going into their house than we do!
Anyway, yesterday she was a no show. It got to lunchtime and I rang her, but got no answer so I tried her mobile, still no answer. A couple of hours later, I tried both numbers again – nothing. I rang child 2 and asked if she had heard from child 1, she said she hadn’t but had tried to ring her at lunchtime to sort out a lift to a party, but hadn’t got an answer.
Dinner time came and went and still nothing. I left messages on both answer machines – nothing. I was getting the hump to think that she was not returning my calls, “The Pig” said she was probably “pissed up” in a pub somewhere after watching the football with the boyf – charming!
I rang ex-husband in the evening, twice, but got no answer. Rang Child 2 at party to find out where ex-husband was and she said he was out, which pissed me off as I was hoping he could go round to child 1’s to see if all was OK.
I went to bed really worried. As I lay there, heart racing, thinking she could have been in an accident or worse still the boyfriend had chopped her up into little pieces and had deposited her into a suitcase and flung her off the cliffs, but then remembered, that at 5ft 10, he might have had to use more than one case to fit her in.
I finally fell into a disturbed sleep, wishing that she still lived at home and wondering why she still doesn’t tell me where she is going, or why she has never given me the boyf mobile number even though she moved out 5 months ago and is 20 in 9 days time.
At 1.30 am I was awoken by a text message which said “Oh my god. Ten missed calls. Been at a party in Ashford all day. Just got back had left mobile in doors. Chill”
Oh dear no doubt I am in her bad books but I can’t help worrying, if only she had told me, in the morning, that she wouldn’t be round, all this could have been avoided. It isn’t my fault is it? even “The Pig” was getting worried!
