54: The Last Whinge

One more whiny whinge and then I am done. I started this blog so I would not forget - so I would evidence the petty everyday slights and the utter selfishness of the woman. And it has served a purpose in terms of me unloading stuff I cannot unload elsewhere. But patterns keep repeating themselves and so there is no point in making the effort to remember.

Our son is also 'fighting back.' In addition to 'don't scold me all the time' he got very cute the other day. He wanted to see a couple of shows on the TV but also needed to finish off homework. So, I said, watch X from 5 to 5:30 and then finish off the work between 5:30 and 6:00

'Your life should not be driven by shows,' she declares.

'But your's is: when you say we have to hurry up and finish dinner because your show starts at 8 pm!'

She had no response to this!!!!

To my son: If you are reading this at some indeterminate time in the future - perhaps when I am gone - please note that I have told her she is being unfair to you. I have tried to be friends with you and I always will. You are my hero and my universe. I am sorry I could not protect you further but I will always try to protect you enough.

As nothing changes and hypocrisies continue, there is no point in writing the same things over and over again. 'Nuff said - on to more positive things and more a life blog!

But one last....

So our son has a blood test on Monday and I decide to take the day off as she is not always confident of her parking ability -  and it's winter so waiting around at bus stops is something I wanted them to avoid.

That though is in the afternoon. In the morning, I drop off our son and instead of going to the driving range as I had planned, come back to the house as she has said that she needs to go shopping in the morning.

I do a good 2.5 hours of ironing. At coming up to 12 she says she is no longer shopping. I am trying to walk 10,000 steps per day and so I walk to the library to print out some homework for our son.

'Could you pick me up from the library at 1:30 and then we can go over to the school for the pick up time of 2 pm?'

'I want to get to school before 2 pm as I want to leave on the dot,' she responds.

'Never mind,' I say, 'I'll see you at school.'

I do my work, wander over to the school by 1:40 .... but she arrives after 2 pm; all she had had to do was get ready and change - still she was late.

Head over to the hospital do the test, I promise our son to play football in our garden before it gets dark. But, first, we have to detour to a shop so M. can buy a particular type of packaged food for a friend.

I play football, get away to the gym for a bit, come back, clear up, have a cuddle with my son to put him to bed. And I am bloody well criticised for not washing his lunch box sufficiently well (in her eyes) and am reprimanded for not taking upstairs a couple of things she had left at the bottom of the stairs. I could fight back to show up the imbalance of work but decide not to - just pick up the things and move on. In fact it is our son who shouts from his bed, 'Mama don't be so harsh on baba.'

So what is the key takeaway from this day. Do good work, help substantially, adjust to her needs but just be told off with no balancing 'thanks.' And that our son's playing time after a hospital visit was delayed because she had to get something random from the mall for her friend - who, no doubt, will say, 'Oh M, you are so efficient.' As for her work - shopping not done, and tidying her shoes from off the floor to the cupboard - still not complete.

This need to impress the outside and not care about those nearest to her can have an amusing side. On the week-end we were going to visit my parents. Near there, there is a very nice park and, despite winter, it being a nice day, we thought we might go for a walk.

'Are you going to wear that sweater? What if somebody sees you? Are you not changing your trousers?'

The new me simply said, 'yep I am and no I am not.' 'And we'll have coats on anyway.'

Even if we did not,  on a Saturday afternoon stroll, would it really matter what I was wearing? Seriously?!!

I think you get the idea - all outside and how it appears to the outside world.

I can't help wondering whether the critique is true. I know I am boring but also the bit about callous, uncaring and harsh. Perhaps her behaviour inside the house is due to my poor attitudes and unsupportive stance. But how does that explain her attitude towards our son who is just the loveliest person? His teachers write about his gentle and generous nature, how he helps his friends and is unfailingly courteous, he gets invited often to his mates' houses and the mothers love him for his behaviour - so it is not just me. It is some weird model of parenthood mixed in with other issues of frustration and depression. Well, fuck it, harsh or not, I've had enough.