Yesterday was therapy. I’ve really connected with this therapist, she’s so open and honest and direct. I like her immensely and find her inspiring. I like to hear what she has to say even if it’s hard and I find myself being open, even emotionally which is unusual for me who is usually so guarded. The session offered the same level of intensity and learning and awareness that is usually does but I didn’t have time to process as I had arranged to meet a couple of close friends for coffee. We meet at a women’s centre. It’s safe, warm and as they’re also survivors we can talk about things with complete understanding. Our concerns, stresses and things that wouldn’t occur to those that don’t live this life. We have forged a close bond and I enjoy their company.
Then I zoomed over closer to home to watched my son perform in his first kindy concert. For matariki, the start of the new year for Moari, I was so proud.
My daughters were due to perform in a school play later that evening which my husband would attend but they all returned in the evening white as ghosts. Very sick!
So after a trip to the chemist, I was also able to pick up our beloved cat Oreo who I’d taken to the vet earlier in the week for being very poorly. So good to have her back and healthy.
Aside from Egg my youngest daughter, the rest of the kids managed to make it into school for the last day of term.
It my eldest daughter’s 11th birthday party this weekend which coincides with my usual monthly support group. It would have worked out but my husband’s family are coming into town. And we have a terrible relationship with them. Historically the mother worked very hard to break up my husband and I, unfortunately I wasn’t like his ex who shared all details of their relationship including intimate details. I also encouraged her son to think for himself – making me less of a candidate. Then when I had our first child and it became apparent I wasn’t going to let her raise the child with her son, things got more nasty. Plus she had some pretty weird ideas about child rearing.
As it is, her nearly 40 year old son still lives at home, no job, no girlfriend, still getting his pants washed for him. And when he broke his wrist, guess who was giving the baths? Mother dearest. So there’s some pretty Norman Bates stuff going on there. The brother loves porn and openly says he will only date young girls because that’s all he can get. So I have some concerns about his mental stability, and safety.
My husband has traditionally been on my side and they have never expressed interest in our children since we had more and moved around. Even as I grew and tried to start communication again. There simply wasn’t the interest. Until I guess we became part of a power play for the mother as in her older age more people were becoming grandparents. Suddenly there would be a demand for Xmas, which we steered against as the kids don’t know the family but agreed on Xmas eve, my husband met them and there kids were adorned with incredibly expensive gifts. The biggest teddies, gadgets, computer tablets, doll houses, a huge Mercedes battery car for my son to drive (I had bought his first three wheeler trike so I was gutted). But the mother barely spoke, the brother farted constantly and my kids came home high on sugar, spoilt rotten and wondering how Santa could possibly top what they had but hoped they would be EVEN BETTER. Then we heard nothing from them again.
One day after we bought our new house they turned up on the doorstep. I was out at the time, someone local had told them our address. We’d only moved down the road. More radical expensive gifts were exchanged and my husband and his mother got into a row, in front of the kids.
They’ve always had our numbers and emails and should have called ahead, turning up and causing a scene in front of the children was unforgivable. I can’t help but feel my husband is partially to blame for not setting clear parameters.
Even this time we have been dictated to, and it is literally inconvenient but negotiable but needs parameters. But my husband has simply bowed to pressure and ignored me and my considerations for the children. The impact on our marriage, the stress, the memories, how this reflects, what we’re both going through right now, how this looks. His final remark was for me to basically get over it.
It’s about being united, showing respect, but to be frank our marriage over the years has shown a grinding and ever decrease of that.
Perhaps it’s comes down to the very simple fact, I really wasn’t the right candidate at all. His mother had it right all along.