171: Continuation from 170 ... nothing big

Re-reading my blog, I came across the last entry - and something similar happened the other day. 

I was doing the dinner for our son and, by mistake, I had not moved some clothes that were drying in the kitchen. 

'Why couldn't you move these?' 'It would have taken a second.' 'You don't care because none of your clothes were drying.'

So, not only was I a complete incompetent rather than forgetful, I was also looking to get at her specifically and my actions were deliberate. Bollocks to this.

Ten minutes later, she is suggesting - all bright and bubbly - that she and I go out for dinner the following night as our son will be at a friend's in the evening. It takes me a while to 'come down' from being told off and some of that maybe shows in my response ... 'we don't have to go if you don't want, just say so,' she says. We go in the end.

I had to drain some peas for our son's dinner. Not noticing a strainer, I used a cheese grater that was to hand. 'Why are you doing that?! What if I want to grate some cheese?' 'But, you're not and I can wash it.' 'No, that now needs to go to the dishwasher. How stupid are you? How can you have such a low IQ? Who does this anyway. Your father was right - you are all technophobes.' And all in that shouty voice. 10 minutes later, I've gone upstairs, not reacted and it's all bright and bubbly.

She says she will wake up at 7 am the next day to get ready for work. At 8:25 am I knock on the door as she sings away to herself in the shower - I have to get ready for my work. 'Oh, sorry, I turned off the alarm and fell asleep. Anyway, I must have needed the sleep.'

Do I say, 'you are so callous. You said 7 am and I planned accordingly. How can you be so lazy. Just like your parents can't arrive anywhere without being an hour and a half late - so that is how you behave. Complete selfishness.' No, I don't - life's too short and what would be the point anyway. 

Another common trend is this obsession with saving little bits of money - not using a paid parking spot, not renting deck chairs on the beach - while being profligate with rather larger sums of money elsewhere.

She has been working for the last year. She did offer to pay the school fees for our son with her salary - it would have taken up all of it. But I suggested that she save that instead and it could be our holiday fund or maybe she could get a car - something material as reward for her labours.

A year down the road, she is about to spend almost £29k on a small (Mini) electric car. Absolutely not value for money. And that is fine. It is a luxury but there is nothing wrong with that, it is exciting and it is her money.

But I suggest that our cleaner - who earns £12.50 an hour - should get a modest pay-rise and the response is, 'no, she has to ask first.' Over the corona lock-down when the cleaner could not come, she initially objected to my suggestion that we continue to pay the cleaner's wages even though she was not coming - but later agreed, to be fair.

Situation remains relatively calm but, boy, am I tired.

170: My fault but is it just me ....?

 It's been really quite pleasant lately.

Now that travel has opened up partly as Covid eases a little (perhaps), she flew off to India to see her parents and brother - which she had not been able to do for almost two years.

Good mood on return, no aggro. with our son. A few days before she left she was quite bitchy about some topic to our son - I forget the topic - but he seems to be able to shake it off. I had been more upset by it and been sulky for a few days as a result.

So, yesterday she stomps upstairs and berates me outrageously for not having locked the back door. My fault entirely and not the first time, I have to admit. But the criticism is bordering on vicious. I do not debate, I do not apologise, I just stay silent. 

In the past, I have pointed out that she has left the keys in the front door all night - sometimes I have not mentioned it  - but I have never admonished in the tone that should, by now, be familiar to me. As if I had deliberately left the door unlocked and what a complete and utter incompetent for having done so.

When she has messed up in some way - as we all do - in the past, I have from time to time joked whether I should scold - yes, scold - her as she would us, just to make the point that anger is not always required or justified.

In the end I went to bed telling myself off for the amnesia that I appear to be guilty of all the time. Not for my not locking a door but her ability to be vicious and superior and just all round dramatic and unpleasant. Why do I forget? Why do I - after a small amount of sulking - genuinely overlook the faults and am pleasant and playful? 

That was last evening - this morning it was all bright and chirpy and good morning. The bitchiness never happened. It is as if I should forget all those moments of unpleasantness and rudeness and just live in the moment. How does someone do that? Tear a strip off and then carry on as if it didn't matter / never happened. The Confrontation story again. How does anyone even speak to another like that? No one has the right to speak in that fashion - but it is in her nature.

Well, if we are to stay together, there is no point in being unpleasant I suppose. But I am tired, so very tired - and angry for my naivete in forgetting / believing in something better. 

My situation is dire but not threatening. But is it parallel in some small way to an environment of harm? 'This time it will be different, this time we have turned a corner...', except that we never do,

169: My Mother

 So, as I wrote in Entry 166, my mother passed away in October 2020. I argued then that, because of the atmosphere at home, I did not really have the mood to write about this at the time. But I note that it took me a few months to get around to writing about my father as well.

Why is this? Guilt, because I was undoubtedly stand-offish and not very nice to both towards the end of their lives? Taking time to 'process'? I don't know.

I never saw us as a particularly close family. The word 'love' hardly ever passed between us - and I am talking about me here, not my brother and his relationship with our parents.

It was in 2012 or so I think, when I played a part in helping my uncle and cousin reconcile over some fairly serious issues that were threatening to tear them apart, that ma wrote, 'I also feel very proud that you are my son  - who has the compassion and understanding that everybody should have but they don't. Lots of love, Ma.' That was probably the only time that that word was shared. With both my parents I had a convivial relationship and I probably listened too much to what they had to say - making life choices that, in retrospect, I should not have. (which is not to say that alternative choices would not, in turn, have made me think that I should have listened more!!)

Through all my troubles, not once did they speak to me, once I had shared with them - and I only shared because my wife had written to my cousins behind my back about how horrible I was. My mother did share a letter I think - which I threw away - that basically said, 'you have to carry on, just like I did.'

And that did not work out wonderfully well for her really. Ma completed an autobiography before she passed away and there is significant ill-feeling against her husband and her mother about choices imposed. In my case, 'imposed' would be too strong a word but, for sure, there was a level of certainty and a set of fixed ideas that did not move over half a century - there was very little grey. And I wish I had been invited to share some of the grey, to consider some of the pros and cons of situations - whether university, work, marriage etc.. 

I 'own' every choice and every door that I went through but the relationship between my parents and me was 'transactional'. In the early years I was influenced by them but never looked to them for advice or have them act as confidants. They were dutiful parents who provided wonderfully well for their children and others, and I believe I was a dutiful son in return.

So, do I miss them? To have a conversation now and then - yes, I miss them. Just to have them around - yes, I miss them. Simply to have them healthy and happy - yes, I miss them. But this is not the great love affair that other kids seem to have with their parents - and I am sorry for that. In the end, perhaps, I miss the 'essence' of them and the 'idea' of them more than feel an emotional or physical loss. Nevertheless, I will be forever grateful for what they did and what they were and the benefits that I have accrued.

Rest in Peace.

168: Confrontation 3

 Haven't written for a while - been quite depressed. Like everyone else I suppose.

The dog-days of January have not helped - still in lock-down, terrible weather, uncertainty on work contracts. 

So, while our son fell below his usual high standards at the end of the winter term, he received good reports in the front half of the spring term. 'If your child were to get G in all subjects, we would be delighted', was the school's marking scheme - and he did.

But two weeks running, a few weeks ago, there was some reason for Her to get angry and go on and on and on at our son. This time I lost my temper. 'How is it that every weekend we have to put up with this tension? Why do you think shouting at him will make him do as you want?' 

I was expecting some comeback, but there wasn't any. I don't kid myself that she saw reason in some way or that, because I do not lose it often, that she had some second thoughts. No, it was just one of those things and I am sure resentment and anger is boiling up somewhere.

Our son is not perfect - he could be a little less stubborn and selfish but he is 15 - and, certainly, shouting at him is not a solution to anything.