Saturday 26th
We HAD to leave at 11 am to be on time for a lunch invitation from a cousin of mine on the other side of London.
Son and I woke up, installed an exercise bike, had breakfast, showered and got ready. All she had to do was (i) make some derogatory comment about what I had chosen for our son to wear and (ii) get ready herself.
My son and I were ready on time but she wasn't: we left at 1130.
Sunday 27th
But, damn, she was ready on time, on the dot at 10:45, for an appointment with her friend whose son was having a birthday party.
All night I squeezed into our son's bed as he was suffering from a fever and I knew that he was likely to run a temperature at night - and it duly came at 4:30 a.m.. Was I told in the morning, 'you were up last night, I'll get him ready and take him to the birthday?' ummmmm ... no!
Monday 28th
A peaceful day putting up pictures around the house - the ones I had had ready since August!
Do I open up? Speak about my irritations? I don't know.
Monday 28 February 2011
Tuesday 22 February 2011
Entry 6: Trying not to care
It was great coming back home last Thursday. She had had the time to cook a roast lunch for her mates but not to pull back the rubbish bins from the street to front yard where the bins live - a distance of five yards. Clearly this is my job.
An uneasy peace now reigns in the house. We talk but not very much, we do not argue and are friendly to our son.
You see that is another reason why I am in this mode of not really caring any more. Because I have held back from criticising her for so many years and just accepted whatever came my way, I find it difficult to be confrontational now. And, increasingly, I found myself losing my temper at my son as a surrogate for my frustrations with her - and that simply is not fair. So, now, by expending no energy on her, I find myself better with my son.
Was watching TV the other day and a comedian called John Bishop came on talking about love and marriage. He mentioned how he had gotten divorced after about 7 or 10 years and put it rather graphically: 'after 7 years, you wake up, you look into each others' eyes and say, "why don't you fuck off and live somewhere else?"'. So, as I suspected at the beginning of this blog, this is not an uncommon story.
I suppose we will get over this episode but it will not be at my expense.
I am taking a couple of days off next week to do some work around the house - maybe we will talk then.
An uneasy peace now reigns in the house. We talk but not very much, we do not argue and are friendly to our son.
You see that is another reason why I am in this mode of not really caring any more. Because I have held back from criticising her for so many years and just accepted whatever came my way, I find it difficult to be confrontational now. And, increasingly, I found myself losing my temper at my son as a surrogate for my frustrations with her - and that simply is not fair. So, now, by expending no energy on her, I find myself better with my son.
Was watching TV the other day and a comedian called John Bishop came on talking about love and marriage. He mentioned how he had gotten divorced after about 7 or 10 years and put it rather graphically: 'after 7 years, you wake up, you look into each others' eyes and say, "why don't you fuck off and live somewhere else?"'. So, as I suspected at the beginning of this blog, this is not an uncommon story.
I suppose we will get over this episode but it will not be at my expense.
I am taking a couple of days off next week to do some work around the house - maybe we will talk then.
Thursday 17 February 2011
Entry 5: Why this Blog?
Did succeed in going out for my cricket practice yesterday evening - though not before feeding our son, putting him to bed and taking out the trash!
So why this blog?
Well, while this is being written as if it were being read, in reality I am writing it for myself. I do not have a real life confidant you see.
To be fair, I do have a number of close friends - male and female - who could be confidants but why should I burden them with my crap? They have busy lives with their own constraints and my stream of consciousness misery will do them no good.
I like to think I am a reasonable genuine bloke - a nice person. Not perhaps someone with zing and pzazz but decent, friendly and solid. I have maintained friendships over many years which I value and I can say with some confidence that my friends like me. Instead of a supportive atmosphere at home I have let myself fall into a pattern where the one who should support me most (and whom I support), makes me feel not-good-enough.
And, in fact, I was a copious diary and letter writer for many years as I was growing up. Once again, I let out my frustrations on a page rather than another person. It was cathartic at the time and I hope it will be useful again.
For years now I have written down frustrations on scrappy bits of paper - and then proceeded to lose them. Here, then, is where I can keep them.
So why this blog?
Well, while this is being written as if it were being read, in reality I am writing it for myself. I do not have a real life confidant you see.
To be fair, I do have a number of close friends - male and female - who could be confidants but why should I burden them with my crap? They have busy lives with their own constraints and my stream of consciousness misery will do them no good.
I like to think I am a reasonable genuine bloke - a nice person. Not perhaps someone with zing and pzazz but decent, friendly and solid. I have maintained friendships over many years which I value and I can say with some confidence that my friends like me. Instead of a supportive atmosphere at home I have let myself fall into a pattern where the one who should support me most (and whom I support), makes me feel not-good-enough.
And, in fact, I was a copious diary and letter writer for many years as I was growing up. Once again, I let out my frustrations on a page rather than another person. It was cathartic at the time and I hope it will be useful again.
For years now I have written down frustrations on scrappy bits of paper - and then proceeded to lose them. Here, then, is where I can keep them.
Tuesday 15 February 2011
Entry 4: Is it Laziness, is it Depression?
My mum and dad are pretty old - 74 and 84 respectively. They spend half of their year in India and half here and, while here, do feel the need to have us visit relatively often. Mainly to spend time with their grandson.
Having not visited for a couple of weeks, I suggested going on Saturday and staying over - but she said that she had work on Sunday.
On Sunday, then, I woke up at 8 am, took our son to a film at 11, bought lunch to bring back home - to find that washing was still lying around and she still had not had a shower. Very busy.
We are going to India on holiday in the summer and by procrastinating the prices have gone from £420 to £587. We are supposed to be going to France in Easter and it has been a month that she has been looking at rental apartments.
Is it laziness? Is it depression? I don't know - and, increasingly, I do not have the energy to care.
Having not visited for a couple of weeks, I suggested going on Saturday and staying over - but she said that she had work on Sunday.
On Sunday, then, I woke up at 8 am, took our son to a film at 11, bought lunch to bring back home - to find that washing was still lying around and she still had not had a shower. Very busy.
We are going to India on holiday in the summer and by procrastinating the prices have gone from £420 to £587. We are supposed to be going to France in Easter and it has been a month that she has been looking at rental apartments.
Is it laziness? Is it depression? I don't know - and, increasingly, I do not have the energy to care.
Saturday 5 February 2011
Entry 3: A First Attempt at Space
Two weeks now and the silence continues. Her cousin being here helps to alleviate the atmosphere a little.
I have decided that I will start to go out a little and not always be at her beck and call. So, last Saturday I said that I would be going for some cricket nets on the Sunday and that I would have to leave at 11:30 am. She said that she would go to Sainsbury's first as a friend's son was coming around. So far, so good.
Madam woke up on the Sunday at just before 11 - I had woken up, given our son breakfast, showered him and played with him by then as well as making breakfast for her cousin - and informed me that I would have to go to Sainsbury's. This made me half an hour late for the cricket.
A small thing I admit - though it incensed me at the time. But it is these little acts of callousness which have made me fed up with it all. I am taken for granted and I have had enough.
About ten days ago she spilt curry gravy over one of the walls in the dining room. This clearly means that we will have to get the whole room painted as the marks will not go. And that's fine - a number of rooms would have needed painting in the summer anyway. I got in touch with a handyman I know in two days and I asked her to get in touch with someone she knows asap so we could compare quotes. Has she done so? Has she fuck.
This is also a consistent pattern. It took her four months to get a gardener in to clean the garden properly and professionally. It has been 16 months and she still has not called the electricians to fit some lights. I brought some pictures and hanging items out of the garage in August so she could decide where they would go and I would hammer the requisite nails - no decision yet. I even took a day off work in October or November to do this work and she did Facebook all day. She procrastinates and then creates a drama. Went to John Lewis to look at lampshades before Christmas and she said she would order on the internet - has she? No - but it will be my fault that we do not have nice lights. I could do it but she took the responsibility and she must see it through.
I am just sick and tired and wish she would just go away.
I have decided that I will start to go out a little and not always be at her beck and call. So, last Saturday I said that I would be going for some cricket nets on the Sunday and that I would have to leave at 11:30 am. She said that she would go to Sainsbury's first as a friend's son was coming around. So far, so good.
Madam woke up on the Sunday at just before 11 - I had woken up, given our son breakfast, showered him and played with him by then as well as making breakfast for her cousin - and informed me that I would have to go to Sainsbury's. This made me half an hour late for the cricket.
A small thing I admit - though it incensed me at the time. But it is these little acts of callousness which have made me fed up with it all. I am taken for granted and I have had enough.
About ten days ago she spilt curry gravy over one of the walls in the dining room. This clearly means that we will have to get the whole room painted as the marks will not go. And that's fine - a number of rooms would have needed painting in the summer anyway. I got in touch with a handyman I know in two days and I asked her to get in touch with someone she knows asap so we could compare quotes. Has she done so? Has she fuck.
This is also a consistent pattern. It took her four months to get a gardener in to clean the garden properly and professionally. It has been 16 months and she still has not called the electricians to fit some lights. I brought some pictures and hanging items out of the garage in August so she could decide where they would go and I would hammer the requisite nails - no decision yet. I even took a day off work in October or November to do this work and she did Facebook all day. She procrastinates and then creates a drama. Went to John Lewis to look at lampshades before Christmas and she said she would order on the internet - has she? No - but it will be my fault that we do not have nice lights. I could do it but she took the responsibility and she must see it through.
I am just sick and tired and wish she would just go away.
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