spoke too soon - got a third of the way before I had to change directions and come here (from where I'm now blogging in the swing seat with coffee and fag!) (see, it's not all bad) and take the man-boy-child to the doctor's and then home (here) (if I only acheive one thing this year, it will have been creating a home for my children in the new house) (see, it's not all bad) and then go to the pharmacist for his medication (an anti-nausea buccal tablet which works on the vomiting centre in the brain stem, to make him stop chucking up) (I like to know the full details of what the quacks dispense) and an energy drink and then tuck him up in my bed (where XCH currently sleeps) which is the closest one to a loo and a sink. . .
when he starts needing the loo,
I have the delightful job
of obtaining a sample to take back to the doctor
so they can find out what bug he has. . .
only a mother, huh
(unless you come from a family where the father does it all)
I have the delightful job
of obtaining a sample to take back to the doctor
so they can find out what bug he has. . .
only a mother, huh
(unless you come from a family where the father does it all)
(the same mother that the boy-child-man told last week he
NEVER EVER
wanted to live with under the same roof again)
(he is his father's son)
NEVER EVER
wanted to live with under the same roof again)
(he is his father's son)
. . .so, no art class for me this morning - but at least XCH phoned me and not the useless nanny (who, interestingly, as well as beng on a retainer in case she's needed in the mornings, is a qualified nurse)
I've done the laundry, the dishes, ordered the groceries (there's no food in the fridge again), put the rubbish out, changed the cat-litter and before I do the ironing I'm having a ciggie and a coffee in my swing seat wondering how long it will be before I'm allowed to sleep in my own bed
12 comments:
Whew! I'm exhausted just reading about all you've accomplished already today.
What a good, kind and dutiful mom you are!
the BMC wouldn't be taken care of by the nanny as he is by his mama.
(she is starting to be bother me by the way....the nanny is....)
{{{{{{{ILTV}}}}}}}
it's gotta be a bit bizarre to be there where you use to live, putting it all into order for them...
it's very bizarre, katherine, and all the more so because I spent six weeks not living here when the builders were here, moved in, lived here for two weeks (which I now have no memory of) and then went into hopsital
but all my "stuff" is here, as well as the children's - our "life" stuff. . .
books, music, art, nic-nacs (of which I have far too many), furniture, clothes - and all the other things that make here a "home"
altho it's a home I have no recollection of being in (apart from one or two really bad memories I'd rather forget)
. . .and then, at the end of the day I tootle back to XCH's apartment in The Tower - which is full of his half of our previous life togther and all his new bachelor stuff that he has acquired since our separation
it must be just as odd for him, sleeping/living here - not with his life stuff, but the memories of "us" and my new possessions, which now form what the children think of as home
I can see why he is not chomping at the bit to leave
shot it's exhausting, but in a good way - and I'm glad the nanny is so useless actually, because it means I get to make a really valid contribution to the household, and hopefully XCH can see that I'm still a good competant mother, getting healthier day-by-day (with the occasional down, true, but not so devestaing as before) and housewife (for the children) and let me back sooner than the "not until December" time. . .
. . .the longer I spend here, the more like home it seems and the less scared I am of coming back
:-)
You are a star. And shining brighter by the day, apparently :-)
So what you need is just to BE
and to remind yourself daily, that you are needed and a vital part of the whole that is your family.
(((((ISLTV)))))))))
.
.
.
.I have a favor, Mig said i need to read the little boy and the star fish..can you give me a kink to that post?
http://woundupandreadytoplay.blogspot.com/2008/07/it-matters.html
Just cuz....
((((((((((( Sorrow )))))))))))))))
and just cos, I just reposted it!
(-:
XXX
And what a day you had. Agood healthy dose of the starfish story.
It matters.
Plain and simple.
Matters to them.
Matters o YOU.
Matters to us.
Matters to me.
See!
I see
(it's a good feeling - thank you!)
X
Oh what a nice circle.
I loved that post :)
It's certainly a good thing you're around. The useless nanny would be worse than useless in that situation!
And I'm thinking the boy-man-child might want to consider not saying never.
Oh, and *. . .the longer I spend here, the more like home it seems and the less scared I am of coming back* - Yay! :)
Sounds like you are on the way home?
xxxx
Try not to compare yourself (puh - leeze! as Donn might say) with the hired help that XCH obtained, after even less due diligence than the American merchant banks that are now trembling and crumbling.
You are their mother, and that is not, and never has been, a promotion handed out for being good at picking foul-smelling clumps from a litter tray.
If there's something inside the Man-Boy-Child's body that the doctor wants to see, I think that he could collect it himself, couldn't he?
There'd be more dignity and privacy for him that way, I imagine.
Love is the most important thing. If your children did not have you, your love for them would be irreplacable. Think about that.
If you have valued your role in their lives as a scraper-up of shit, I'd like you to reconsider, and re-evaluate yourself.
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