This week has been long and difficult in many places. T-Boy has not been easy, 1000 days since Rich died was definitely not easy, moving bedroom was a long way from easy. BG's birthday was yesterday, and just about put the tin lid on things.
I sent her an e-card - I don't have an address to send her a proper card or a present or something like that. Part of me doesn't expect it will be opened. Part of me doesn't expect she will even know it was there. A bigger part of me hopes it will be, and hopes her mother is generous enough to her father's memory to acknowledge that we exist. Part of me is just sad that in losing Rich we lost BG as well.
Maybe one day we'll see her or hear from her again. I'll give her the box of stuff we have for her, and talk to her about it all, go through it all.
I just hope she knows we are always going to be here for her, whenever she needs us or wants to know what happened to her father.
In other news, I'm working on a Sunday morning again. Yay. Then we'll be taking T-Boy back to his mothers, and collecting the AC, and that will be the holidays over. We achieved a lot though this holidays, hard though they were.
That which doesn't kill us makes us stronger!
Showing posts with label She-Ex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label She-Ex. Show all posts
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Just a cup of tea
I am back to drinking tea again after a long Lenten period without it. The last section was the worst. Joyously though, I seem to have broken my sugar addiction in tea and I am happily drinking it without 2-3sugars.
2 sugars is 23 calories.
2 sugars x 7 cups (minimum) = 23 x 7 = 161 calories, daily.
161 calories x 47 days = 7567 calories.
7567 calories = 2lbs of fat.
Except it wasn't about that. As a by product I am slimmer in the waist (it would take a miracle to shrink this backside!) and I am more lively, less prone to needing to sleep in the afternoon/early evening and so on. As a byproduct.
So what was it about? After all, it's just a cup of tea.
I haven't regularly attended church in about a year. In fact, a year last month, when I had my arthroscopy last year. I don't know why I haven't been. Some of it is to do with being away every other weekend.
A lot of it is to do with struggling with my faith after the aftermath of Rich's accident.
In a way, I could deal with his death, I could manage to assimilate that, and see the rightness of the ending of his physical pain, his mental pain, and love the idea of him being with God. The powerlessness of his brother taking his ashes, or the She-Ex refusing to tell me anything about the BG unless she wanted something, or the complete lack of contact from his family, just made me despair. How could God want us just whitewashed from his life, like the AC and I never existed?
The continuing fallout and stress caused by things like DVLA, like the banks, like Dairy Crest bills from when he was living with the She-Ex (seriously? £450 to Dairy Crest? HOW do you do that?) led me to question my view on the world. His family were family for the good bits, for the showy bits, but wanted nothing to do with the actual hard work of him being dead. His brother's big words of "let me know what he owes and I'll sort it out" turned out to be smoke and mirrors, which was the same with most of what he said. But I dealt with it, occasionally *still* deal with it, and am proud of the fact that I have managed without them, thus proving everything Rich said to be true, and validating why I'd never met them in all the time we were together.
The ongoing pain of realising that he and I would never have children together, that I would never have more children with anyone, that the AC is the sole child of my flesh, is difficult in the extreme. It isn't just that I wanted a big family, or that it was a dream for both of us, that we valued each others parenting styles and skills, that we loved each other, it is deeper than that. It is part of who I am, and my ability to get pregnant, but inability to carry past 6-8 weeks makes me feel as though I am less of a person. After all, as I have said before, 15 year olds on a council estate can do this, why can't I? Am I that much of a bad mother that God's choice is for me not to? Or is it that He knows something I don't? (Obvious, but true lol!) Was it better for Rich and I to lose those we started, than to raise 2 grieving children?
The continuing, but changing, pain of living with his loss, and living with the child who knew him and loved him and was bereft by his death, of answering the questions, of holding the sobbing body, of coping with the outlet of emotion and reassuring him in all the ways I can, is exhausting. Trying to find ways to talk him through what happened, at his own pace, without badmouthing Rich's brother or the She-Ex can be a task of diplomacy in itself. (My opinions are mine, and expressed on here for my own sanity. He doesn't need to hear them, he can make his own mind up later on.)
There are other reasons, better reasons. Sometimes I miss communal worship, the feeling of being all in one thought. Other times, I am glad to be in a field, watching the lads fly planes, and glorying in God's creation without the walls of Church. I am glad to be in the open.
My non-attendance at Church doesn't mean that I don't believe. I could no more stop believing in God than I could fly under my own power. I am open in my prayers to Him, guilty of not spending enough time with Him, know I don't read His Word as much as I should, and need to get better at all of those things. I have spent a long time being unhappy with Him, not trusting as I should. I struggled to see the bigger picture - of how the pain my son and I were going through, caused by his death and the aftermath, made sense in the plan.
I am slowly coming towards an acceptance, but not an understanding. OR rather, an understanding that it is ok not to understand, it is better just to accept, and appreciate what is here, rather than picking old wounds. After all, picking causes scars, not smooth healing. (All our mothers said things along those lines) Whether this will lead me back to church, or to a more insular faith for a while, I don't know.
So, for me, every time I wanted a brew and didn't, it made me think of God, and what He was prepared to do for me. It made me aware that I had made a promise to God, and that I should keep that promise. And that He has made me promises, and kept some and others are not "not-kept" but more "yet to come to fruition". It has been a physical reminder of my faith.
It's just a cup of tea, but it is so much more.
2 sugars is 23 calories.
2 sugars x 7 cups (minimum) = 23 x 7 = 161 calories, daily.
161 calories x 47 days = 7567 calories.
7567 calories = 2lbs of fat.
Except it wasn't about that. As a by product I am slimmer in the waist (it would take a miracle to shrink this backside!) and I am more lively, less prone to needing to sleep in the afternoon/early evening and so on. As a byproduct.
So what was it about? After all, it's just a cup of tea.
I haven't regularly attended church in about a year. In fact, a year last month, when I had my arthroscopy last year. I don't know why I haven't been. Some of it is to do with being away every other weekend.
A lot of it is to do with struggling with my faith after the aftermath of Rich's accident.
In a way, I could deal with his death, I could manage to assimilate that, and see the rightness of the ending of his physical pain, his mental pain, and love the idea of him being with God. The powerlessness of his brother taking his ashes, or the She-Ex refusing to tell me anything about the BG unless she wanted something, or the complete lack of contact from his family, just made me despair. How could God want us just whitewashed from his life, like the AC and I never existed?
The continuing fallout and stress caused by things like DVLA, like the banks, like Dairy Crest bills from when he was living with the She-Ex (seriously? £450 to Dairy Crest? HOW do you do that?) led me to question my view on the world. His family were family for the good bits, for the showy bits, but wanted nothing to do with the actual hard work of him being dead. His brother's big words of "let me know what he owes and I'll sort it out" turned out to be smoke and mirrors, which was the same with most of what he said. But I dealt with it, occasionally *still* deal with it, and am proud of the fact that I have managed without them, thus proving everything Rich said to be true, and validating why I'd never met them in all the time we were together.
The ongoing pain of realising that he and I would never have children together, that I would never have more children with anyone, that the AC is the sole child of my flesh, is difficult in the extreme. It isn't just that I wanted a big family, or that it was a dream for both of us, that we valued each others parenting styles and skills, that we loved each other, it is deeper than that. It is part of who I am, and my ability to get pregnant, but inability to carry past 6-8 weeks makes me feel as though I am less of a person. After all, as I have said before, 15 year olds on a council estate can do this, why can't I? Am I that much of a bad mother that God's choice is for me not to? Or is it that He knows something I don't? (Obvious, but true lol!) Was it better for Rich and I to lose those we started, than to raise 2 grieving children?
The continuing, but changing, pain of living with his loss, and living with the child who knew him and loved him and was bereft by his death, of answering the questions, of holding the sobbing body, of coping with the outlet of emotion and reassuring him in all the ways I can, is exhausting. Trying to find ways to talk him through what happened, at his own pace, without badmouthing Rich's brother or the She-Ex can be a task of diplomacy in itself. (My opinions are mine, and expressed on here for my own sanity. He doesn't need to hear them, he can make his own mind up later on.)
There are other reasons, better reasons. Sometimes I miss communal worship, the feeling of being all in one thought. Other times, I am glad to be in a field, watching the lads fly planes, and glorying in God's creation without the walls of Church. I am glad to be in the open.
My non-attendance at Church doesn't mean that I don't believe. I could no more stop believing in God than I could fly under my own power. I am open in my prayers to Him, guilty of not spending enough time with Him, know I don't read His Word as much as I should, and need to get better at all of those things. I have spent a long time being unhappy with Him, not trusting as I should. I struggled to see the bigger picture - of how the pain my son and I were going through, caused by his death and the aftermath, made sense in the plan.
I am slowly coming towards an acceptance, but not an understanding. OR rather, an understanding that it is ok not to understand, it is better just to accept, and appreciate what is here, rather than picking old wounds. After all, picking causes scars, not smooth healing. (All our mothers said things along those lines) Whether this will lead me back to church, or to a more insular faith for a while, I don't know.
So, for me, every time I wanted a brew and didn't, it made me think of God, and what He was prepared to do for me. It made me aware that I had made a promise to God, and that I should keep that promise. And that He has made me promises, and kept some and others are not "not-kept" but more "yet to come to fruition". It has been a physical reminder of my faith.
It's just a cup of tea, but it is so much more.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Wait and see!
The He-Ex is in weird form at the moment. He has the AC on a Tuesday and Wednesday after school (3.15-6pm) and on a Friday (3.15-6pm Saturday) The AC keeps coming back not bathed. So I emailed him about it - keeping everything written down - and he seems to think it's ok for the AC not to bath on a Wednesday or a Saturday night. I don't, so he baths here on those nights. But previously he's said he won't do it because it interupts playtimes. Bath time *is* part of playtime here! But then we have a mopable floor and like to play whatever the AC is wanting to play. Increasingly though, as a small boy, he needs to a) be doing things for himself, and b) he needs a little privacy when bathing. I know he doesn't need the latter yet really, but he's getting used to the idea that his body is his own, and if something happens to it that he doesn't like, he needs to say, whether it's food going in, issues with what comes out, someone hurting him, he needs to say. Over the last year, he has been, even to the point of asking not for tickles after a certain point, which is good. It's his body, he needs to feel that he has control over it in many, many ways. Unless he's after getting his ear pierced, which as a 5 year old boy is a no no no no! When he's 15, fine, do the stupid stuff that children that age do, knowing you've made your own decisions, but not right now little man!
Right now, he's after joining the Cubs. It would be fine at the moment, but less so when he goes up to Junior Class for his martial arts, as it's on at the same time. In fact, his Junior Class is going to be difficult as all of the times are times he is with his father. Even now his father skips the Saturday class when he feels like it, and this one would be later in the day, so even more inconvienient.
We'll wait and see what happens. I'd like him to join Boys Brigade, but there isn't one near here. There's Cubs and Scouts, which would be a lot of Saturday commitment, again, debatable with his father, and on a Wednesday evening, which would be good in some ways as then his father would drop him off and I would pick him up, except his father would stay, which parents are disuaded from but it won't stop him lol!
Waiting and seeing seems to be the theme for this side of my life this week!
We've woken up to two comments on the blog. That, coupled with the messages last night about Mothering Sunday and wanting to work things out got me thinking at 5am when I was debating getting up or trying to go back to sleep.
My conclusion was simple, but the same as it has been before. I'll wait and see what happens. If *I* hear from her, that's cool. The second she starts on me, or R, or the past, or cussing and swearing or any aggression, it's gone again. She knows where I am. (Heavens, that's most of the problem lol!)
I don't want to go back to not wanting to check my mail because she's being vile again.
I don't want to go back to watching her degenerate into a screaming fishwife on MSN.
I don't want to go back to the name calling, the lying, the horribleness.
I appreciate that she wants to make an effort - this week. But less than 3 weeks ago she was being horrible to R, because he wasn't told that the BG-Grandmother was going away for teh week and therefore he had to phone the She-Ex instead.
We'll wait and see. I think it's all we can do.
The car has a rotten wheel arch, which is replacable, but we're going to wait and see what James says before we decide which one we'll run this summer.
Still no news on what's happening at school after Easter, again with the wait and see.
Still no Fed-Ex, now we both think it hasn't been sent, or at least not sent on the day she said it was being sent (and again with th fact that this was only a couple of weeks ago - can she change her spots that fast on a permanent basis? I want her to have, but does she?)
Still no idea what to have for tea lol, so I think everyone is waiting and seeing on that one!
Life is good, but tricky in places!
Right now, he's after joining the Cubs. It would be fine at the moment, but less so when he goes up to Junior Class for his martial arts, as it's on at the same time. In fact, his Junior Class is going to be difficult as all of the times are times he is with his father. Even now his father skips the Saturday class when he feels like it, and this one would be later in the day, so even more inconvienient.
We'll wait and see what happens. I'd like him to join Boys Brigade, but there isn't one near here. There's Cubs and Scouts, which would be a lot of Saturday commitment, again, debatable with his father, and on a Wednesday evening, which would be good in some ways as then his father would drop him off and I would pick him up, except his father would stay, which parents are disuaded from but it won't stop him lol!
Waiting and seeing seems to be the theme for this side of my life this week!
We've woken up to two comments on the blog. That, coupled with the messages last night about Mothering Sunday and wanting to work things out got me thinking at 5am when I was debating getting up or trying to go back to sleep.
My conclusion was simple, but the same as it has been before. I'll wait and see what happens. If *I* hear from her, that's cool. The second she starts on me, or R, or the past, or cussing and swearing or any aggression, it's gone again. She knows where I am. (Heavens, that's most of the problem lol!)
I don't want to go back to not wanting to check my mail because she's being vile again.
I don't want to go back to watching her degenerate into a screaming fishwife on MSN.
I don't want to go back to the name calling, the lying, the horribleness.
I appreciate that she wants to make an effort - this week. But less than 3 weeks ago she was being horrible to R, because he wasn't told that the BG-Grandmother was going away for teh week and therefore he had to phone the She-Ex instead.
We'll wait and see. I think it's all we can do.
The car has a rotten wheel arch, which is replacable, but we're going to wait and see what James says before we decide which one we'll run this summer.
Still no news on what's happening at school after Easter, again with the wait and see.
Still no Fed-Ex, now we both think it hasn't been sent, or at least not sent on the day she said it was being sent (and again with th fact that this was only a couple of weeks ago - can she change her spots that fast on a permanent basis? I want her to have, but does she?)
Still no idea what to have for tea lol, so I think everyone is waiting and seeing on that one!
Life is good, but tricky in places!
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