A silly TV show.

Have you ever watched something that really affected you? So much so that you cant bear to watch it or think about it because it really struck a chord with you?

So my partners brother recently recommended I watch Vikings. You might have heard about it, its a historical drama about the Viking King Ragnar Lothbrook and his conquers. This is sounding weird already (that I got so emotionally affected).

I don’t know if it was because of the emotional state I am in right now or whether I just don’t agree with male morals but I found this show really addictive but hard to watch.

Ragnar has the most beautiful, amazing, strong wife that holds her own. She is fierce. When Ragnar rises to become Earl, he is sent of a mission for the Viking king with his young son, Bjorn and along the way meets Princess Aslaug (the name really makes me hate her even more). Bjorn catches them having sex and tells his father he hates him and he must never sleep with her again. It is during this time his daughter Gaia, dies from the plague. Ragnar promises him he wont and keeps true, that is, until she announces she is pregnant with his baby. Upon his return home, Lagethar (his wife), asks about Aslaug, and he promises never to see her again which satisfies Lagethar.

Then suddenly out of nowhere comes princess Aslaug and her band of women, cradling her baby bump. He actually asks Lagethar if he can keep her has his second wife. Poor Lagethar leaves him, knowing she could never share him. And that’s it. he tells her he doesn’t want her to leave he wants both says no, and he lets her go. he then goes home and kisses Aslaug and it skips to 4 years later and they have 2 sons and another on the way.

 

EXCUSE ME?

How can you do that to your wife, whom you love???? This made me so upset (see? i must be emotionally cracked!!). I had really like Ragnar up until this point. If  you’ve seen the show, youll see that Lagethar moves on and is very diplomatic about the sitch, raiding with him and even has a threesome with Ragnar and his side hoe (that’s how I feel) Aslaug.

I feel so bad for her, and I put myself in her shoes and I tell you now, I would never be so diplomatic about it, knowing my husband was off impregnating other women while our daughter dies and than having the hide to ask me to accept her. Nuh uh.

This affected me so much, and I’m sure ill understand why soon, but perhaps it has to do with the double standard of men. if the situation was reversed, surely things wouldn’t have ended so diplomatically?

Men have this way of getting away with things that we women, cannot. I don’t know why, but its obviously been ingrained in society for so long that it is the norm.

It got me looking at my partners behaviour too. In the last week, ive watched him walk out of the house without telling me where he is going numerous times and without an explanation when he gets home and if i probe, its none of my business i am told.

However, if i walked out the door and left him with the kids for hours on end and didn’t explain where i was, I would be accused of doing something behind his back, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. “Mens business” they call it. and they do it without guilt of leaving you by yourself with your tiny destructo humans, because they feel entitled.

Entitlement

Recently I enquired about a job that will require me to work nights, but pays really good money. this way i don’t need the kids in childcare as much and we can save that money.

The first thing Scruffy Daddy says “that means I cant do anything i want, no, you need to work days”. Ah, excuse me? I told him to shove it. And to top it off, when i told my MIL about the job, the first thing she asked was ” oh so Scruffy Daddy approves of this?” No joke, I straight up said “I don’t need his approval. Its money. Its a job. Its not his decision”. to which she raised her eyebrows and looked away. She is well trained by my FIL.

Another instance of how men are perceived to have a sense of entitlement is making all the major decision in the household. When it comes to my kids, i am their primary carer and most decisions relating to them are made by me. Since Miss 4 will be attending Kindy next year (i am very emotional about this), I have put a lot of thinking into where she will attend, and i decided she will be going to a school further away from home purely because it can provide after-school care, and this means we can work, and then pick her up from there, no buses.

So at the beach, MIL and I are discussing Miss 4 ‘s best friend who is a year older but will be attending school next year with her in Kindy. I explained which school she will be going to and the reasons why. A few hours later, we are having lunch with scruffy daddy and she pipes up and asks scruffy daddy where he would prefer Miss 4 to attend school. I looked at her and thought to myself “are you fucking kidding me? I just told you the decision has been made”. To my surprise, scruffy daddy shut her down and told her it was none of his business and he had left that for me to decide. Well that shut her up. but it made me so angry that she thinks that a) we don’t discuss things b)that HE gets to make all the decisions and c) that she acts like she has a say in the matter.

She thinks he has to be the head honcho, because that’s what happened in her day. and the times before hers.

So it brings me back to Ragnar and Lagethar. The Vikings are a very old civilisation and even then and many more years before them, women had no status. You shape up or ship out if you don’t like it. And it has continued into our society today. And it sucks.

The Queen of England is a goddamn woman and I bet Prince Philip gets the last say about it all because he is a male and they are entitled.

I feel for my daughter, and I hope she finds some new age man who treats her like an equal.

All this from a stupid show. ahhh

 

 

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Therapy

So today I am having some hypnotherapy done to help me get through some difficult things that have happened to me and to help me improve as a person.

A woman I encountered while I had my son 6 months ago has offered to do this for as she is a hypnotherapist and believes this will change my life incredibly. Unfortunately it has taken me this long to get my arse into gear with all that’s been happening and during that time, my friend moved several hours away. Since she cannot help me face-to-face, we are doing it through recorded messages, and hopefully this will help.

I am nervous. I had to tell her all of the things that happened to me as a child and recently, which made me cry like a little baby. 25 years of your life mapped out for someone else to see, is a hard things to do, especially when your life hasn’t been very positive.

 

I will post later about how it goes.

x

Crossroads.

So the past week or so has been really difficult for me.

My children are driving me (slowly but surely) insane. But the worst thing about this week is I have finally realised my relationship will not have a happy ending, and I am prolonging my hurt.

Its been almost 6 years and I have been fighting a losing battle for almost 4 years.

“Something ’bout people, how they never know, they’re loving someone, who’s letting them go” – Leanne Womack “Blame it on me”

I have been doing this exact thing for 4 years. I never even knew. Until now.

So Scruffy Daddy has a brain tumour and its pretty scary to think that sometime this year we will place his life in the hands of a stranger with the qualifications of a neurosurgeon, so that he can live a normal life again. Its scary to think he may never be the same person after this procedure. its even scarier to think he may not remember our youngest baby because he is so young, or even just day to day things. Scruffy Daddy is incredibly independent (at everything outside home) and his job requires physical labour every day. So this is going to be a huge hurdle for us. Or for him. I’m not sure which one it will be yet.

I don’t want to be the woman who leaves her partner when they need the most help, so for now I will stay put. But I will not be doing this forever. This much I know.

I’m not sure about in your world how men work, but the men that I know would give anything for their wives or partners to be interested in sex, especially after having children when women generally have no libido and don’t want to be touched after a day of being manhandled by tiny humans.

Not SD. Oh no. Heaven forbid if I ask for sex more than once in a week. Or even just a romantic cuddle on the lounge, or a kiss that isn’t just a peck and doesn’t involve him wiping his mouth afterwards. It is honestly exhausting trying to get him interested in having sex. Since I am on birth control and I DEFINITELY do not want to have children (read my post here about why) I make sure we take all the necessary precautions not to fall pregnant again, so there is no concern in that department, I’m not going to fall pregnant for another “fix our relationship” baby.

I dress provocatively, I do all the right things to get him in the mood and I get told to “fuck off”, or “don’t touch it”. Yesterday was the last straw. I had been dropping hints all day, I asked him to come upstairs to have a look at something, he told me “I’m not having sex with you”, so I went and had a shower by myself. As I am getting ready to get out, in he comes and tells me to move so he can get clean. I leave the bathroom and wait in the bedroom, and he is in the shower for a long time. I go in to find him “finishing” himself. When I asked what was going on he told me I had rejected his advances so he continued “solo”. NOT ONCE did he show any interest in me or make an advance.

Later I tried cuddling him, which he allowed, but as soon as I asked for a kiss and started showing signs of wanting more he told me to go to bed. So I did, and I waited for 3 hours for him to come to bed whilst wearing some lingerie, hoping he might be interested. He comes to bed and puts the covers over me, asked me to cuddle him, then told me he cant sleep with me near him. At this stage I am in tears, feeling pretty unwanted, so I slept on the lounge. When the baby cried, I didn’t get up. I waited for him to do it. Fuck him.

You might think I’m being petty and maybe he just wasn’t feeling up to it or whatever. But this is my life every day. I am only allowed to touch him when he allows it. I am not allowed to cuddle him or be near him unless he says so but I am also not allowed to be in another room and doing my own thing because then I am being rude. I am not allowed to have an opinion about our future, “if you don’t like it, then leave” there is no negotiation. His mother and father dictate how we live and what we spend and what we spend it on. I have to go back to work because they refuse to drop our rent (we rent off them) while SD is sick so we can save for his operation because they need the money to finish building their THIRD house. Not to mention they have cut SD’s pay so he is receiving a significant amount less per hour, because he works for them. And now we are being told he will be the groomsman for his brothers wedding in the Cook islands and we have no choice, we will be there. But I am not allowed to have a say in how OUR money is spent. It is a discussion on he and his parents are allowed to have. Even though its my money too.

I am constantly being criticised by SD and his family about my upbringing and how I raise my kids. I am too strict. I’m not strict enough. I don’t spend enough time with them. I don’t work enough to contribute. I do just about everything except bring home the bacon, so I am lazy.

So after 4 years of trying to please my partner, trying to love someone who doesn’t want me to love them, I have finally realised I cannot move forward in my life here. I am 25 years old this year. He has already let go and I’m clinging on like my life depends on it.

You’re probably thinking I should just give him some space and he will miss us.

Been there. Done that. I moved out for 6 weeks. He never called once. I called him, and we had to see each other because Miss 4 had just had major surgery, but not once did he ask when I was coming home. Or that he missed us.

So here I am. Faced with the biggest decision of my life. Do I stay with someone who couldn’t care less if I existed or not and be stuck, never married (because proposing to someone doesn’t mean you want to marry them apparently, 12 months later we are still not married or even close to it) because I will never be what he wants or rather what his parents want, or do I leave and be miserable and hurt every time I see him knowing I had to give him up because I loved too much and he cared too little?

I wish I could wake up tomorrow and not care who he was. I wish I could just walk out that door and shake my arse and tell him “you’ll never get this”. I wish he would cry. I want him to hurt like I do every time he lets me go. I wish I was confident enough to go out into the big wide world and be me again. The words of Scruffy Daddy resound in my head every time I try “Look at your body, who is going to want that” or “you’re too fucked in the head”.

So I have decided this for now. I will leave (if things remain this way) once he has recovered. I will also see my PT 3 times a week getting my body into shape so when I do walk out that door, he is going to be sorry. I will gauge his treatment of me from now until he has surgery, and decide from there whether I stay or go. And if I do decide to go, I am cutting ties completely. I will be leaving this town and not coming back. He can chase us around the country if need be, but I will not stay somewhere for the sake of him.  Same goes for his family.

okay rant over.

 

 

Baby Bibs

Hi guys,

I’ve recently started sewing a lot of bibs and was wondering if anyone would be interested in buying them online? I can sew other kids clothes, like jumpsuits, boxer shorts, burp rags, and bandanna bibs. I’m looking to go into business making just bandanna bibs to begin with. I also crochet baby beanies and booties.

Cheers!

Marriage & Children

Lately I have been really touchy about marriage. I am not married, and have been engaged for over a year now. However, as soon as the word ‘wedding’ comes up in conversation with Scruffy Daddy he swears no one will ever see him waiting at the altar for me.

I thought I was okay with having a long engagement but this year will be our 6 year anniversary and I’m getting antsy. I’m also turning 25, and I don’t want to be old and wrinkled in my wedding photos.

Things have been pretty tough lately between Scruffy Daddy and I. We have faced many hurdles, one being Miss 4 having trouble with one of her kidneys and having it removed, my OCD (a story for another day), constant bickering for no good reason, the birth of our son, Master 0, who broke my tailbone on his way into this world and then I nearly bled to death and scared the crap out of my midwife and the emergency staff, and most recently Scruffy Daddy has been diagnosed with a benign brain tumour.

During these bad times I would like to say we got over these little bumps in the road together. But unfortunately we could not agree on how to get through it. Both of us being extremely loud people, “straight-shooters” as he affectionately calls us, we both have a lot to say about everything.

Scruffy Daddy comes from a perfect family. No one ever fights. His mother and father remain together, no one complains. Everyone walks around with a big fat smile plastered on their faces and you’d better not complain or you’re an ungrateful piece of shit.

Myself, on the other hand, came from a broken home. My mother and father split when I was only a baby. To this day I never truly know why but they did for some reason. My mum met her ex husband and had my sister who’s now 19 and my dad and his partner had my other sister who is now 18. My mums ex husband was an arsehole and treated me like absolute shit for breathing. Mum then met her ex partner and had my youngest sister who is now 9 (15 years younger than me). Life was great for them, then they split after 13 years only 2 years ago right before Christmas. It sucked. Life growing up was hard.

From the minute I met Scruffy Daddy I turned to my best friend in a drunken haze on our walk back to my apartment, and said “I could marry a guy like him one day”. Sure enough, 1 year later I was pregnant (much to both of our surprise!!!!) which started our rocky journey. Ive wanted nothing more than to be Mrs. Scruffy Daddy and so after losing our second baby at 7 weeks, I kept reminding him that Miss 4 would be at school soon and perhaps we should make us an official complete family so I don’t have to correct people when they call me Mrs. Scruffy Daddy by mistake assuming we are married. Its embarrassing.

So we are at the beach with our good friends, Scruffy Daddy is partially tipsy, and we see an old man enter the water and start swimming laps of the shark net beach. At this point, Scruffy Daddy dares me to swim one lap, knowing full well I cant swim very well. I refuse and he sees this as an opportunity to up the stakes. If I swim from the net back to the beach, he will marry me. I should also mention he said this very loudly so we had the full attention of the whole beach. So I walked up that break wall and not once did I look back. I jumped in and I swam all the way back. I nearly drowned doing it but I freaking did it. And he got down on one knee in the water and popped the question. Lots of congratulations from all the beach goers, one of the best days of my life. Of course I said yes and the next day I found out I was pregnant with Master 0..

Fast forward 14 months, and I am further away from getting married than the day I was born, for goodness sake. I know of at least 4 people who got engaged after me who are either already married or getting married this year. Not me.

Scruffy Daddy is using it as leverage. So I took a stand and removed my engagement ring, gave it back to him and told him where to shove it. I also said if and when he is ready, ill accept the ring back, but I want to set a date. So far, no ring…

So I’ve started wondering if I am wasting the good years of my life being with someone who doesn’t want to marry me and doesnt seem to care whether I am here or not when I could be out the enjoying life with someone that would. I mean I love Scruffy Daddy. He can be an arsehole, but I still adore him for some reason. And I know he is unwell, but I thought perhaps having something so major like a brain tumour would spur him on to seize the moment. You know, spend some time with your kids, laugh, cry, go on an adventure, get married – make it official. So far all he does is complain about not being able to drink alcohol and sits on ebay.

So brings me to today and todays tears. His brother recently got engaged and have decided they want to get married overseas, cool, but we cant afford to go as we have no money and what little money we do have is going towards some sort of saving for when Scruffy Daddy has surgery. I have explained to his mother how upset I am about not being able to get married anymore and I don’t want to talk about weddings and crap. So the first thing she does when I arrive today is tell me how her son is getting married overseas and we absolutely have to go because Scruffy Daddy is the best man… blah fucking blah. I wanted to punch her in the face right then and there. I told her we wouldn’t be able to afford a trip like that, and she kept protesting “but hes the best man… You have to go!”. What part of “we cant afford it” do you not understand?? I swear she sees my mouth move but doesn’t hear a word. She just keeps rubbing the salt into my wounds.

She lives in LA LA land, honestly. They pay him next to nothing compared to what he can get working for anyone else, and we pay them rent on top of that, yet when we cant afford to do what they want us to do, she cant comprehend that we have no fucking money and Scruffy Daddy is sick and I’m on unpaid maternity leave for another 6 months which means we are surviving on a pissy little income provided by them, when we could be getting almost double that anywhere else.

She did the same thing when I lost my baby. Funnily enough when we found out we were expecting baby no.2, so did Scruffy Daddys brother and sister in law, and then to top it off, were due on the same day. Cool, huh? Apparently too cool for mother nature and I lost my baby at my best friends wedding. While I was busy being a bridesmaid and helping her get ready to set off on the biggest adventure of her life, I was losing my baby. The whole day all I wanted to do was cry, curl up in a ball and cry. Instead I smiled for the camera, I smiled for my childhood best friend of 22 years, I smiled for Scruffy Daddy and my mum, I smiled for my best friends family, I smiled all fucking day long. It was painful and horrible and the medical staff I spoke to were heartless. After we had established that I had had a complete miscarriage (no medical intervention needed), I tried my best to stay positive, that we would be pregnant again , I’m young, it would happen. During this time, while I was grieving and trying to move on, MIL decided it would be awesome to give me a blow by blow daily update on my SIL and how her pregnancy was going. It fucking hurt. I lost so much respect for her then. Even right up until the birth of our niece, I would still feel a little sad for that little person I would never meet. And my MIL took so much joy in rubbing the salt into my festering wound, while she pretended not to notice my broken heart.

I guess today was a little emotional. Or maybe I’m too sensitive. I don’t know.

 

They see me rollin’, they hatin’…

 

 

***Warning: a very tired mumma has her ranty pants on***

 

 

This particular verse of a song is literally how I feel about my 5 month old right now.

The Rolling Phase.

I*hate* it. I get the whole milestone thing, they do it repeatedly until they perfect it and it disturbs their sleeping patterns because their brain is on overtime trying to work the rolling crap out… blah freaking blah.

All I know is that, right now, Master 0 rolls as soon as I put him down on any surface, and then screams like a banshee because he cant roll back. So I’ve tried a few ways to stop this from happening at bed time and feeding time. All have failed miserably.

Swaddling doesn’t work because the little turd can do it while wrapped up. So I tucked him into a sheet while he is swaddled to make it harder to roll, I found him screaming his lungs out up the other end of the cot on his tummy. How the eff does the ratbag do it??

I’ve tried pillows at feed time, still doesn’t deter him. He just rolls right over that shit. Might take him 5 or 10 mins but he will do it. Then he gets the shits because he realises he cant drink his bottle that way and starts screaming again. Scruffy daddy tells me he rolls both ways all the time when I’m not around but I suspect he’s lying. Either that or Master 0 plays dumb when I’m around.

Either way, I’m going out of my freaking mind. Not to mention he has mastered escaping his swaddle and pulls his dummy out then screams for the dummy. I ordered a new one online but its taken like 2 weeks to get here and arrived on the ONLY day I didn’t get to town so now I have to wait a whole weekend to pick it up!!

I love the little shit but honestly, I need some sleep!!

 

From a seriously Crappy Mumma today. 😦

 

Sneaky Toddler…

Good morning!

I woke up to find some people have started following my blog which is exciting!! Thank you to my new followers!

So I thought I would share a little story about Miss 4 (Who is actually still 3, but will be 4 very soon) and how cunning she really is. We don’t really give our toddlers much credit in the way of quick thinking and planning. We view them as tiny little humans who seem drunk most of the time with their outrageous impulses and funny , yet irritating, behaviour and they take each day as it comes. Not my toddler.

You see, she is very clever. This worries me. Not because she questions everything I do more than I question my own actions, but because she is fully aware of consequences and dangers and because she has just learnt to lie to avoid the consequences.

I don’t like lying. But as a parent I find myself constantly telling little white lies to my children to avoid having to explain certain things – like the time Miss 4 found all my tampons and asked why Mummy has “nappies” – ugh, I was not ready to have the talk with a 3 year old.

The day in question finds me going to town to help a friend in her shop during the holiday season, I was in a mad rush because it take about 30mins to drive there and I had 25mins, I was washing baby bottles and making sure my partner (lets call him ‘scruffy daddy’) was organised to watch the kids for the evening, because lets face it – he was not going to organise it himself.  Everyone was outside – I handed Master 0 to Scruffy Daddy, and made my way to the car, when I realised I had forgotten my keys. Prior to this, Miss 4 was begging me not to go without her. I said goodbye to her as I went to find my keys, walked inside to grab them, walked to my car where I was waving goodbye to Scruffy Daddy and Master 0 when I realised Miss 4 was no where to be seen. I assumed she was downstairs watching telly. I checked to see she wasn’t behind the car, no toddler. As I was driving along, singing away to myself as you do, I kept thinking about a news story I had heard when I was pregnant that broke my heart and scared the life out of me.

I’m not sure if you may have heard about it, and I’m not sure where it happened. But some time last year, I was on my way to work, heavily pregnant with Master 0 when there was a report on the news about a father who was on his way to work one morning and when he finished his day of work, got back in his car to find he had forgotten to drop off his baby to daycare and the baby had tragically died after being left in the car all day. This story has stayed with me, ever since.

The whole time I was driving along, I was thinking about how scary it would be if Miss 4 climbed into the car without my knowledge and I went off to work and she was stuck in there for hours on her own. I quickly removed this thought from my mind, glanced into the backseat to make sure no one was there and continued driving, thinking that I would have heard her by now if she had of been hiding (Miss 4 is not known for her quietness). I made it 10 minutes down the road when I heard a little rustle come from the back of my seat. Seeing as we live on a property which is pretty snakey, I shat my pants and for some silly reason I put my hand down behind the seat and grabbed – a little toddler leg!! Up jumps Miss 4 giggling her little arse off and I am so angry but trying to hard not to laugh at her sneakiness. We laughed all the way back home but I had to stress to her how dangerous it could have been!! Scruffy Daddy had no idea she was gone, as he was outside feeding our animals and assumed she was watching tv. So when I arrived back at home he was just as surprised as me to find she had snuck away!

She then explained that she waited for me to go and find my keys and quickly got in and hid under my seat and was very quiet.

I then rang my friends shop and explained I was going to be late and why, all anyone could do was laugh in disbelief that she would have done that! I am seriously going to have my hands full when she is a teen if she is already sneaking around.

I learned a lesson that day too, always check your back seat for cheeky little monkeys!!!!!