Crappy New Year

I never wanted my blog to become a shoulder to cry on for me; I’m usually good at keeping these things inside and dealing with them. But not tonight. Tonight it’s going to be my tear stained and slightly yellow pillow.. I’ve a glass of bubbly in front of me and it’s got the better of my tongue and fingers. Incurably loosened they need to release the pent up frustration within and blurt out what is on my mind. I know it sounds trivial but my husband and I had a row tonight. A big one. And it’s New Year. And I feel sick as a sick, homeless, stray stinking dog about it. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, it’s what it brings back that hurts so much. This time a year ago we had a really rough Christmas and New Year. It nearly ended us. We came this close to splitting up but battled through it with counselling, tears, arguments, compromises, promises, broken promises etc etc etc. It feels like it’s taken eleven months to get us back on track (and we’ve only been together three and a bit years – with a two and half year old daughter – you do the math) and it’s all been zapped in one fell swoop. One false word. One slammed door. Gone. All the work and trust and the fun times starting again. All over. From my side of things, I’ve worked fucking hard this year. I’ve got new work which is finally paying the bills and I’ve really tried – I mean REALLY tried so God damn hard to put my all into my marriage. When they say relationships are hard work I wanted to put the hours in, but I feel like I’ve been doing overtime in order for it to work – and we’d just got there. And now this. I’m scared to death that the memories conjured up out of this latest row will tip us over the edge. Words get bandied about – divorce, over, end. Words I used to hate on Dynasty and Dallas – not words that I thought would ever mean something to me in real life. And I said such horrid things and I hate myself. But so did he – yet I have apologised to him, but he doesn’t want to know… I’m so god damn upset about it. I’m sat down in the kitchen on the computer, while my husband watches 2008 highlights of motorbike racing – he doesn’t want to see me you see. So I’ll see in 2009 on the pc and skype – except that my internet is down so I’m writing this offline and have no live skype. As if things couldn’t get any worse! I hate feeling depressed, but I definitely do. I want to get shitfaced and smoke fags but I can’t – I’m pregnant. Now even the joy of that feels like a noose. Not that I begrudge my daughter and unborn child. In so many ways, it’d be easier just the three of us. But I want us to be a proper family – we have the possibility and my husband and I love each other so much. But we have this thing between us – I can’t describe it. It’s so destructive. I’m so scared of it. I pray we’ll get the better of it but I can never sit back and relax. Only today I was sitting in the car thinking how happy I was – now look at me. It might as well be another existence. Christ, all I wanted this year was NO STRESS. And so far it has been. But it’s all gone tits up tonight and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it except blog. I do feel better for letting it out. I don’t feel I can’t talk to anyone on the phone about it. So whoever this reaches, thanks for listening. And I’m sorry to bang on selfishly. But here’s to you, good luck in 2009. Raise a glass – I’m going to. Alone.

Christmas Propaganda

This is my first Christmas as the mother of a toddler. It's quite a different ball game this year. The tree is a temptation beyond control, the sight of presents is too much to take. Chocolate is everywhere... on the tree, in the drawers, hidden in cupboards and on toddler un-friendly levels on the supermarket shelves. Trying to tell a 2 year old that they can only open one door of the advent calendar (non choc) each day is impossible. Telling them that they can't open any presents until Christmas day leads to tantrums and battles. So I resort to threats and bribes. I feel like the Mother Mafia, "If you don't behave yourself then Father Christmas won't bring you ANY presents!"... and so on. It led me to think that all these things - Father Christmas, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny etc etc were all invented to attempt to keen children on the straight and narrow. No wonder so many kids resort to crime - they've probably just realised that the basis of their childhood has been a lie. Mind you, so far it seems to be working so I'm going to stick with it. Bribes are brilliant and threats of no Santa are too much to risk. Hooray for make believe.

Exciting News!

I'M PREGNANT!!! (mental note to self - do not show this blog to my employees!) Tee hee! Well not until I have a water tight contract anyway.
We had the dating scan yesterday afternoon finally - I say finally because I was supposed to have it a fortnight ago but I have such a ghastly baby brain this time around, that I got the date wrong and missed my slot. I was devastated. Anyway, every cloud has a silver lining, because the baby was 2 weeks bigger and brighter and was in the mood to party yesterday. It waved and squirmed and wriggled and smiled beautifully for the photograph. I was quite overcome with emotion. When I had the first scan with my daughter she was asleep and looked much light a fuzzy black and white baked bean. So I was thrilled to see movement. My husband is convinced it's another girl. I think secretly he had been hoping for a boy.. someone to pass on his craze of motorbikes to.
So I'm 14 weeks today, and starting to show already. I don't think I looked anything other than thick (HATE that word, who invented the hideous expression - 'thickening of the waist'?) until about 5 months last time around. I'm eating for Britain, the Channel Islands and most of Europe. I should theoretically be obese. My boobs are VAST. Looks like it might be a bigger baby this time around. My daughter was a dinky 6lb 5oz. I like small babies though - they stay babies for longer I think.
I'm so excited that I will have two children who will grow up together. Friends for life, partners in crime, soulmates and co-conspirators. I'm already wondering how I will manage to get one child off to school, ballet etc while I have a newborn chomping at my boobs... but I'm sure things will work out fine. Just thought I'd share the news - I've been brimming for 2 months and finally can open the flood gates and tell everyone!

What Christmas means for working mothers

I'm finally getting into the Christmas spirit. The tree is up. My little girl has broken up from nursery (sounds terrifyingly grown up!). The stress is starting and the bank account is fucked to put it bluntly. And I've yet to sort a pub for our 'stress and cooking free' Christmas dinner. Once again it's money and pressure that has prompted me to post this. Although I'm excited about time off and my family being together, I'm terrified at the prospect of not earning for a few days - it always seems to leave a huge dent in the monthly pay cheque. I yearn for the days when you took 5 days paid holiday and got 2 weeks out of the office - care and stress free. One of my companies is being very generous in doing a special festive Christmas payment run so that we get paid before the 25th. I'm hugely grateful to them for it. It's a shame the other firms I work for didn't want to jump on the joyous bandwagon, but I can understand why. I feel the pressure to earn and keep earning is constantly on my back. If I don't, I always fall short the next month - I get stung for bank charges and find myself in the same situation only worse and more peeved the next month. January is a notoriously long and hard and desperate month... I'm just hoping that I've done, and I'm doing enough to ensure that we'll get through Christmas and have a decent cheque in 2009. Sorry to sound so negative but it's reality... I can see why some people dread Christmas. It is in some ways such a happy and giving time; and in others a worry and a necessary evil. I should look at the true meaning of Christmas and be thankful, and I am, I really am. But in modern times it's hard to see it as something other than a money guzzling nightmare.

A Tragic Day...

Things have been really great lately. Busy, bright, fun and easy going. Money is tight but we're okay. Life is sweet.
Saturday morning comes and the 'phone rings. My husband answers it and by his voice I know it's for me. It sounds like my mum from the way my husband talks about the weather and doesn't swear. He passes the handset to me, but it's not my mother - it's my father. My father NEVER calls me - Never. Unless I've forgotten my mother's birthday when he's ringing to bollock me. I know instantly that something isn't right and my brain starts whirring through possibilities -what have I forgotten? What might I have said that has pissed someone off and hurt them? But I can't think. Then he tells me that he's got bad news. My uncle died last night. My heart instantly fills with sadness for my father - his younger brother - his soulmate - his partner in crime when they were kids. What must it be like to lose a brother? My dad is strong and quite matter of fact and even tries a bit of humour to lighten the conversation. But I'm just so sad for him and for my older brother who was so close to my uncle. For my aunt - who woke to find her husband cold and lifeless beside her in bed on Saturday morning. For their grandchildren - who will never get to taste his delicious cooking and explore his amazing mind. I'm just so sad. And I regret that he never met my daughter. You always regret the things you don't do, rather than the things you do, don't you?
I wonder where he has gone now. I hope it is somewhere nice. Where he will be happy and restful finally. It feels like a light has gone out; I just hope that one is illuminated somewhere further on his journey.

Growing Babies

I worked late last night - well 9pm. That's late for me. My brain disintegrates at about 7.45pm most days. If I'm lucky it will switch to auto pilot for an extra half hour. At 9pm I went to watch TV for an hour to relax before getting an early night which I'd been looking foward to for obvious reasons - my husband is away! Yesssss!!!!

As per normal there was nothing on. We have about 900 channels and every night the same problem - NOTHING on. I mean nothing! It gets quite depressing. I thank God for Sky Plus actually; at least then I can watch something I actually wanted to watch and couldn't at the time it was on. Last night's selection was Growing Babies - a new 2 parter on BBC 4 (felt quite cultural I must say). I'm intrigued by anything concerning babies, childbirth, pregnancy etc. Never was before having one, but now I'm fully converted. The miracle of life becomes quite an obsessive subject in my mind.

I was actually quite upset by the programme. I didn't watch it all to be fair, but the general jist is that your unborn child is 'warring' against you - the mother ship - for survival. Whilst I realise they take a lot from us and make us feel pretty crap for the best part of a year, I was under the lovely, romantic impression that pregnancy was a time of nurture, protection, unrequited giving and provision to ensure your unborn child has the best nutrition and chance of survival come the birth day. If you have an hour to spare take a look - there are 9 days left to watch it online.

BBC 4 Growing Babies

I'd love to hear what you think. Am I being ultra sensitive typical mother, ignoring facts and wanting my last, and any future pregnancies to be a joyful time. Not feeling as though the foetus is actually trying to bump me off so that it has a better chance in life. Good God. I think it's preposterous!! What are these people trying to do???!

Treasurer's Treasure! HO HO HO!

Well last night was Bingo night (even though I thought it was tonight - my brain has frozen with most of the UK lately..) and I have to say that I'm converted. I thought it was going to be full of the blue rinse brigade - plus the pikeys from 'the flats' in the village (I'm not a snob but if you saw them you'd understand); and silly youths getting drunk of a bit of festive mulled wine and taking the piss - but it wasn't. Although the pikeys did turn up. I saw a whole other side to the charming village I live in. Some of them reminded me of the weirdos from The Hills Have Eyes - I might have even had nightmares last night. Joking aside it was great. Full of festive cheer, generosity, high spirits and fun. We made a killing for the school and I won a bottle of champagne and some chocolates which will do very well in someone's stocking. Hooray!

I somehow managed to get my head around the money taking aspect and managed to prise a tenner out of most Bingo goers. No mean feat for me despite being the Pre School Treasurer! I also learnt quite a lot of Bingo lingo as we coined it. Eyes down - line - house - specials - on it's own, number one... I had a great time. I'd highly recommend it for a bit of fun, great way of making some cash for a worthy cause, and general living it up. It all goes on in the country.

Home Alone... again

I don't know if I've told you much about my husband. He's quite a unique character - in a positive and a negative way. He's fiercely independent. No one ever thought he'd get married. He's a bit of 'the glass is half empty' type of man. He can be unintentionally selfish sometimes. And there is one rule for him and another for everyone else. Those are the negatives by the way! On the positive side, he loves our daughter so tenderly it brings me to tears; his intentions are always to support and give to his family; he is passionate about the things he loves and he is incredibly loyal.
Anyway, the point is he's not here. He's in deepest darkest Wales at the moment. Working. He was in Spain for 8 days a fortnight ago on a jolly too. He loves motorbikes you see. He loves them more than me - I'm sure it was written on our marriage certificate somewhere. As he says whenever we argue about anything - 'bikes were in my life a long time before you were!'. Can you believe it?! I don't mind actually. I'm glad he is passionate about something. It gets him out of the house, he has a social life attached to it, and it motivates him.
So he had 8 days in sunny Spain while I shivered with a cold in miserable Devon, and now he's away in Wales working with his Dad. Well it's not quite Alicante, but it's still being away from home. I ought to be complaining but I'm not! I actually enjoy it when he goes away:

I can work without feeling guilty that I'm ignoring him.
I can eat junk and not worry that he's watching me and thinking I'm going to get fat(ter).
I am in charge of the TV remote! Hoorah!!!
My daughter's routine is stuck to without fail and she is always in bed by 7pm so I can enjoy a wind down glass of wine.
I don't worry that my possessions are scattered EVERYWHERE.
I can sprawl diagonally across our bed.

Brilliant!! It's just a pity that he's only away until Thursday.

All I want for Christmas....

Boo hiss. This credit crunch lark is really starting to bite. I don't think I would have noticed it if I was still a working girl in London (not that kind of working girl!)... gloriously single, selfish, affluent, well groomed, didn't know the meaning of the word tired... but now with kids, a husband and extended family to think about buying presents for, you really start to notice the pinch. Not to mention mortgages, credit cards - and bank charges. My fucking bank took £300 in charges last month... it left me skint, crying, depressed, anxious and seriously pissed off for weeks - I still haven't got over it in case you are wondering. When you work all the precious hours you can muster, in and around being a full time mother of a toddler, and being a full time housewife, and then half of what you earned goes up in smoke, into some Lloyds effing Bank fat cat's bonus pocket, it really grates. That money was set aside to pay for an old loan payment and also finish off my Christmas shopping... Which is now still waiting, sat on a wish list on amazon.co.uk. This month isn't much better, although one good thing is our mortgage which thankfully has come down considerably. But no matter how much money you make or save, you hardly notice it - you just notice that it always goes straight back out of your bank account. Who actually manages to save any money at the moment?

So it's got me thinking about what is important this Christmas. And actually it's not the presents, although I want to treat my daughter to a few Peppa Pig bits and pieces. It's about my family, my immediate family being together. It's about good will, fun, sharing and caring. It's about watching The Snowman and the Christmas Eastenders. And then it's about looking to 2009, how I can improve our situation financially. I think I will apply for more work and really knuckle down and get more coming in. That will be my New Years resolution... So it's all about positivity, checking reality and hoping that things will get better. But for now everything is fine. Gone are the gluttonous Christmases of late, which is no bad thing.

'Tis The Season To Be Jolly... fa la lalalaaaaaaaAAAAA!!

AAAHHHGGGGHHHH!!! Sometimes I just HATE Christmas, don't you? I am usually such a positive person and am pretty happy most of the time but Christmas really stresses me out. It's not the present buying, the cooking, the decorations, the noise or the same old Christmas tunes belting out of the radio... it's the F word. Shhh... families. Did you hear that? Sometimes I just can't be doing with them. It's even worse now I'm married and have a child. It's not that my parents want to see my or my husband, but they want to see our little girl; they live two counties away so it always has to be an overnighter when we see them.. this fills my husband with dread - he's antisocial at the best of times, and to make matters worse - he and my parents don't see eye to eye, never have, never will... My husbands idea of Christmas is slippers on, remote in hand, Quality Streets at the ready. My parents like us all to join in - silver service, champagne, let's get pissed and play charades. Chalk and very smelly stilton cheese...

My in-laws (who I get on with very well) are always at home and always have their other children and granchildren over for Christmas lunch. This is all well and good except that the grandchildren run the show. Call me old fashioned but I expect to be able to sit down for Christmas dinner and stay at the table throughout (bar trips to the lavatory or to top up drinks etc). I don't expect kids to be zooming around on scooters, not sharing things - screaming MINE! every 5 minutes and basically not allowing any grown up conversation to exist while they are conscious. Maybe Christmas dinner in the evening would resolve this, but my mother in law insists on lunch time. And surprisingly she is more than happy to let the kids run riot, behave like monsters and drive everyone potty. My husband and I can't cope with the level of noise, level of bad behaviour, the stress that it causes as the parents of the badly behaved kids get frowned on and in turn get the hump and behave badly. Phew.

Roll on the 25th - we're off to the pub!