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I am concerned for my marriage.
I am having de ja vu. The way our life is now functioning with Mr Ambitious working during the day, and then going to lectures at night only to lock himself in the study when he gets home seems all so familiar. It took some thought for me to realise why it seemed like I had been through this before, and it's because I have.
When Skinny-Mini was born it was nearly exactly the same scenario. I stayed home looked after Skinny-Mini and cleaning the house. I would map out my day in terms of naps and television, counting down each programme until Skinny-Mini's father - Mr Pony would return home. I'd hear the keys in the door and my heart would lift. "finally some companionship... Some relief" I'd be thinking as he'd stride past me with his guitar and lock himseld in the spare room to practise his music theory lessons. This routine, combined with post natal depression and our age (19 years) doomed the relationship and it was a mere nine months before I left Mr Pony and rented myself a bachelor flat.
Now I see it happening again. Mr Ambitious is always so busy and so important that me and the children are left functioning in our own little world seperate but paralell to his. Yesterday I took Skinny Mini to his first day at his new school, sussed out the area, took Miss Furious to day care, cleaned the house, did two loads of laundry, picked up the kids, cooked dinner, bathed them, did homeowkr and put them to bed. Then I did the dishes and cleaned the house so that when Mr Ambitious came home after classes at 9pm everything was perfect and taken care of. Did he care? Apparently not. Did he sympathise that my body aches and I have been having fake labour pains all day? Nope. He was snappy, and instead was irritated that I had washed one of his shirts that should have been dry cleaned.
It was weeks ago that I organised that our family would visit Grown Mum and her mob in Miranda. I told my husband that on Australia day we'd be sitting by the pool eating sausages at their beautiful (albeit far away) home. I wrote it in big letters on the family calendar on the wall. I reminded him constantly.
Then in the last week, as the young and child free people start to think about the long weekend Mr Ambitious the invitations of endless beers in centenial park or beach cricket and bourbon start to roll in. All very family unfriendly actvities that I am sure are great fun if you are a little less tied down than two kids and one on the way! He constantly asks "What day is it we're going to Grown Mum's again? What time is it on?" And then these soon turn to "It will cost too much money to drive there". "I don't even know the woman!" "Do we have to stay long?" I feel the silent resentment inside me festering away. Why must be act like a teenager being told by mum he has to visit his aunty with the hairy mole?
Then last night some friend I have never heard him mention before invites him to come out for a few drinks. He rushes off leaving me with the bedtime routine and a bitter taste in my mouth. I send him a few SMS to politely request he be home at a reasonable time and in a reasonable state of being. I didn't plan on being the single mum at the bbq while he's at home vomitting in the toilet bowl. Nor do i want to be the babysitter who has to gently cater to him AND the children all day....
Long story short. Its now 10am on Australia Day and Mr Ambitious finally calls and says "What time is this thing today?"
For the first time in years I hang up on him and let the phone ring out.
Highs and lows over the last few days. It seems every year, my husband - Mr Ambitious, and I claim "this will be the year that everything runs smoothly. No dramas, no huge life changes" and it seems every year we have a huge life change and/or drama within the first month! This year was has been no exception.
Last week both Mr Ambitious and I were offered full time roles that were great jobs with pretty good pay for our experience levels. There was a moment where niavely I thought "great! Our careers are off!" and somehow thought we could both accept the jobs. I didnt even think about the $600 a week we'd have to pay on child care! I was quickly slammed by my appalled man who in the heat of argument told me my feelings didn't matter and the reality is that I can't take the job and need to just wake up to reality. there were tears, pillows thrown across the room, silences, and a double marital bed that suddenly seemed to have a distance in the middle to rival the Gobi desert. I did everything domesticly and did everything for the kids in those few days, assuming that was it in terms o my career. Obviosuly his career is what our family are working towards, and if that means I have no career whatsoever than so be it, because even if I reach senior level in my industry, I will never earn as much as he would
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Ok so I am plodding along like every thing is fine and dandy but it sure isn't like that. January is tearing past at lightening speed and it is seeming less and likley my boss is going to ask me back at the end. Although I am officially on paid holiday time I went into the office yesterday to pick up my mail and check our emails...
There wasn't much
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Hmmm. Been sitting here for the last four hours doing jack s@#$. Honestly, just chatting on msn, emailing long lost friends and looking for jobs I will never get with my buldging belly.
I SMSed my boss before asking if i could leave early to go to my daughter's Xmas concert and he called back and said "that's fine, just means I want you to come in for half a day next week or something like that." Yeah yeah whatever - not like I'll be doing anything else! In fact he's paid me for the entire month of January, so I am not adverse to him reqesting me do work from or drop in at any time during that month. I'll probably be going stir crazy and crazing something to sink my teeth into anyway. As much as I love my babies, endless days in the apartment with hungry children and playdough can turn any sharp minded woman into a zombie covered in snot and macaroni
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Yesterday, my third last day of my official employment was painfully exhausting for all the wrong reasons.
Eight hours of doing nothing is a very very long time
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I forgot the horrors of being a parent in summer! Until this weekend!
We visited my mum one night and of course my eldest son (her favourite) and her had many cuddles and wrestles. The next day I get the call "I think he has nits. My head is all itchy!". O lawd... summer... Children who attend the schooling system... long-ish hair... disaster! So I pulled all my courage together, dragged my son into the sunlight, pulled the hair back from his ears and nearly screamed and vomitted at the same time. There were SO many little lice eggs it was like someone had sprinkled salt onto my poor boy's head
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I am really dragging my big bum into the office in the mornings now. It just seems pointless... What difference does it make if I am on time or not? Only four more business working days and my time on the island is up. It's not like i am doing anything constructive for the company anyway - more like eating up bandwith while I search www.seek.com.au mycareer.com.au and careerone.com.au and generally waste time on msn messenger.
I sit here feeling more depressed by the hour. Contemplating life with one (small) income and FIVE family members. I remember how mum seriosuly told us that we need to get housing commision. I apply for all these great jobs and secretly hoe none of them get in contact becasue I can't imagine the humilaition of turning up to permanent interviews with my pregnancy body on full display for everyone
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Well there was a saga that y'all missed while I was offline. My boss had his cancer return, well it wasn't cancer, but something related to his previous cancer battle. It meant he suddenly went away to the hospital for many weeks and I was left alone to run the business with no help. I couldn't even call him because he was so doped up and knocked out by the operations and recovery. There were good things to this new situation - namely I can turn up late everyday and blast my hip-hop through the office. And there were many bad things - namely dealing with sexist clients who would demand answers for questions I never knew existed.
Of course this all happened at the perfect timing of the week before I was meant to become permanent - complete with holiday pay, maternity leave and future security! Here I was, 3 months pregnant feeling things were working out perfect and then BAM SLAM "I might close the business in January". He couldnt promise me continuing work, nor guarantee that he wouldn't have work but renewed me until January with a little bit of 'holiday' time). Now how the crap am I meant to waddle up to job interviews with my big belly
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Comments (2)
Comment by Couch Pumpkin
on 20th January 2007
Television the drug of a planet
Mumma Mumma
Thanks for the comment. Your post on the future of australia's PM issue certainly s food for thought.
How far can we take multitasking during motherhood?