Legally Blonde

I had dark maya gold organic fair trade chocolate from a grateful friendly patient in work today

Walking home I noticed the wintry sun, the strange and beautiful patterns of cloud wisps in the wind, the smell of cut pine

I ate sensibly and early, even if mostly freezer cheating meals, and washed up (mostly), and only had one drink

when S came home friendly relaxed sofa time

I will survive.

Having slowly started to cope again (relative to a fortnight ago) I suffered a major set-back today.

About 10 days ago I asked D via text message what he wanted to do about practical stuff: some of my stuff still at his house, cancelling wedding arrangements etc. I had hoped we could be adult enough to communicate and deal with the practicalities together. Maybe it’s my way of coping, taking what tiny bit of control I can over a tiny part of the split, or because focusing on practical stuff stops me dwelling on more painful emotional stuff? Anyway. This morning, while I was in work but S was at home, D came and brought all the engagement presents and dumped them in the living room to greet me when I came in from work. Apparently he asked S how I was. I suppose it’s sweet of him to care, but how the **** does he expect me to be? and if he cares or meant it when he said he wanted to stay friends, why the **** can’t he ask me how I am?

Having been deliberately thinking only of the good times, and how everything’s part of the plan and happens for a reason, and all things work together for good etc, I am rapidly losing respect for his memory and – frighteningly – faith. Now I am thinking deeply uncharitable thoughts about how cowardly it was to come like a thief when he knew he could avoid me. None of which reflects at all well on me either. Maybe he was right to leave us, if I can be so nasty about him here, so soon! Sad, messed up, hurting, but desperately trying to hold it together for B.

I’m dreading parents’ evening at nursery next week. One of the last things D said to me was that he wanted to know how B was getting on, that he loved and missed him and kept seeing him in the pool or at the swings, and wanted to stay in touch with him. I’m afraid I reacted very childishly, telling him we came as a package: he couldn’t be a good times only part time dad to B if he couldn’t have anything to do with me. He said let me know how parents’ evening goes. I don’t know if I can face it. When we signed up for it, I thought how lovely there’d be two of us this year – but that was before I was back to being a single parent again. Nursery are sweet and tactful about it, but I don’t find it at all easy. B is biting lots again at nursery, I had thought he had grown through and out of that particular phase.

Any spare prayers you could send in this direction v needed and gratefully received…

I bought the book Dave recommended, and found the wife of a friend from home also in print recommending it. There is a lot that makes sense, and when B is a bit older I will definitely try putting it into practice. I am ambivalent; like Chas, I enjoyed it as a small, but without really understanding. As an undergrad I know people who were deeply into it an unhelpful, unChristian way, and was disturbed by it. I know that the origins are a pagan festival and I’m not trying to be a holier than thou killjoy, but I’m aware of and uncomfortable about the undercurrents: evil is real, and powerful, and I don’t like anything that purports to be “celebrating” or encouraging it. I’m not brave enough to stand up and say it lots or articulately, but I was glad to be in church this evening rather than home alone a sitting target for any local trick or treat children. Let the flaming begin…

I made lunch to take to work this morning, then went upstairs to sort b’s bag out. when I came down again, little man had climbed up a chair, reached to the middle of the table and stolen the geobar from my lunch. hadn’t started it, luckily, ’cause he hasn’t (yet) worked out opening them. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or react badly to him climbing up the table!

this evening after nursery he very specifically told me I was late with his tea: he’d moved chairs, climbed up one to reach his bib, climbed up another to reach bananas, pushed his high chair to the table and climbed up it, and when I reacted to the squeaking and joined him I found him trying to open the banana and put the bib on simultaneously.

he may not speak lots of english yet but he jolly well communicates. my little boy is growing up so quickly!

thanks RB for helpful suggest… in fact the whole thing came apart so completely that I’ve stacked it in the corner of his room and assembled the travel cot instead… not ideal for longterm, and you’re right about needing a bed soon given the amount of climbing in and out anyway. thanks for the Christmas hint! maybe not good to make tooo close an association in the request, though, or he’ll be given straw and a trough!

Benjamin dismantled his cot while I thought he was having a nap this afternoon. Oops. Any suggestions?!

5th Sunday evensong is healing communion. I don’t often get a chance to go (not only because there’re very few 5th Sundays!), but last night I went with a friend (who also used to be in choir and also left under not the easiest of circumstances). I was very glad not to be the only one, though it was only that afternoon I knew she, too, was planning to go. Strangely, people we’d expected to be difficult were welcoming and kind. Embarrassingly, I spent a lot of it in tears. Beautifully, that didn’t seem to matter – and almost felt appropriate in the circumstances.

I went home with Barbara, who was my Swansea mum in undergrad days. I’ve been woefully neglectful of her recently (also I knew she wanted space round Ian’s anniversary) but she saw me at church, gave me a big hug and said we miss you, come home for a cuppa, which I did. She was kind and undrestanding and not judgmental – which shouldn’t have surprised me but was a huge relief. On my return home, hugs and gin and The (proper) Italian Job. Friends are fabulous.

The Shower Saga continues. The third attempt plumber, who seemed more friendly reliable than the previous ones, isn’t. Back to square one, with ringing round for visits, quotes, estimates, time-scales… It’s exhausting, and difficult being held responsible for the plumber’s having lied to us, let us down and failed to let us know. My trouble is if someone says to me “I will do something on a particular day” I believe them and expect them to. I ought to have learned that for most people that isn’t the case, and assume that we’ll be let down more often than not, and grown out of being so trustworthy and naiive and made back-up plans, but despite evidence and experience to the contrary, I still haven’t.

I feel gullible and as though a friendship’s on the line because of it. Sad.

Last night I watched some old, old films and decided that there are some good quotes, even if admitting to the fact makes you feel terribly old. You see, one of my friends here was born the year I started “big school” – others had finished uni before I’d finished GCSE’s. I’m in the middle, which is usually a good place to be. But when I start watching films like Pretty Woman, Dirty Dancing etc and say “ooh this takes me back; this is sixth form music,” and my marvellouse housemate says “Sixth form? I wasn’t at school by the time this came out” it does make you wonder. However, tonight I was with lovely friends in the other direction – slightly older than me and teasing about it. Anyhoo, on to the appropriate Quotes:

You could be so much more
People put you down enough, you start to believe it
I think you are a very bright, very special woman
The bad stuff is easier to believe, you ever notice that?

well, she has a point, i’m afraid. i’m trying v v hard at the moment not to believe “the bad stuff” but the way things are sounding from his side, to his friends, what he is putting about, “the bad stuff” seems to be what prevails.

however, she’s still a nOptimist! which is encouraging. although also tinged with realism:

doesn’t work for people like us
yeah it does… you guys could get a house together, buy some diamonds, a horse… it happens
when does it happen, who does it work out for?
what, you want me to name someone?
yeah, just one person, someone we know, I’d like a name
ooh the pressure of an actual name… i got it. Cinderf*****’rella.

yeah, well, I don’t condone the swearing (tho the last two days I’ve been getting increasingly re-practiced in it!), but I see the point, and laughed out loud, it has to be said. yep, I’m afraid that’s about where I am at the moment, that things just aren’t designed to work out for “people like us.”

Different film, which was a v bad idea in the present circs: maybe, baby, based on Inconceivable (good book, bad film). Some relevant, but not repeatable here, quotes. oh dear. Fell asleep on sofa in middle of bottle of lovely red, without having washed up or washed or cleaned… the house is in need of my pulling myself together, just as much as my son is!

Had lovely, “grown-up”, night off. S said she was too tired and didn’t come out, which meant I didn’t have to bring the babe, which meant I could chat, catch up, drink, flirt… feels too soon to be joining the real world, but also good to wear make-up again for first time in 10 days (which means I can’t cry), make a slight effort, drink w/o worrying about being drunk in charge of a buggy, catch up with (non-baby) friends etc. still don’t feel great, but I’ve bounced back from worse. “OK” is relative: I’m still alive, but I’ve felt a lot better. However, I’ve also come through much more awful or unsolvable situations before.

Tis v g to be “ok” in a sense. difficult not to be, in another.

tomorrow brilliant housemate godmother has agreed to do bath/bedtime with B so I can go to Healing Communion. feels appropriate/necessary just at the moment.

Don’t forget Clocks!!

While being ill from work I managed to achieve rather a lot considering:

Paid final reminders for gas and electric;
renewed TV licence (and recycled the 15 extra pages that told me in small print and three languages that I could no longer do so at a post office – poor old redundant post office, rant for another later post);
cancelled standing order to joint account (couldn’t close it cos need both a/c holders there and to want to);
emptied joint account, partly to threshers (oops, bad) and mostly to B’s bank a/c, since he’s the big loser in this mess at the moment, and i don’t want to be accused of stealing all our wedding savings!;
sent text asking what he wanted to do about the joint a/c;
sorted out some of B’s too small clothes (that I’m no longer saving for the next one – sad but resigned) to send to charity/friends/recycling;
borrowed a buggy (thanks lots and lots to british standard);
eaten and drunk well and spent chilled out evening with film and friend.

Not all bad, then.

S teasing me for saying mixed up words eg complicant – it’s a complicated compliment, obviously, isn’t it?!