Why you’ll never hear me mention my mother…

Earlier this week, I read a very brave, incredibly honest post over at New Mummy – all about how her greatest fear is turning into her mother, and  the reasons why.  You may or may not have noticed, I never mention my mother, and inspired by New Mummy, I’m going to tell you why…

On Thursday 25th August 2005, I got a phone call at work from my mother. Which was weird in itself, as she had never phoned me at work before.  She said she needed to see me, she had something important to tell me that she couldn’t say over the phone.  I arranged to meet her for a drink when I finished work, and on my way to the bar, I prepared myself for the worst – either my Nana had died, or she’d left my Dad.  It was the latter.  She’d walked out on him on the Monday, and got round to telling me on the Thursday. (My parents house was about 10 minutes away from my flat at the time.)

It hit me hard. My parents had always had a volatile relationship, but I figured after nearly 26 years together, they’d decided they loved eachother enough to see it out till death did they part. Wrong.

She’d been having an affair, for 3 months she said, the truth later came out to be nearer 18.  The bloke was a tosser.  My Dad’s far from perfect, but this idiot had 4 kids by 3 women, 2 of whom he’d been married to, he’d been inside, and declared bankruptcy twice.  Quite a catch eh?  Apparently, he made her ‘happier than she’d ever been’.  So, she had left her beautiful 5 bedroom home & husband of over 2 decades, to go shack up with a loser in a scummy one bedroom flat. Fair enough.  I tried to be a grown-up about it.  I told her there was no way I was going to be even civil to her new beau, but as long as she made sure I never had to be in the same room as him, I’d do my best to maintain a relationship with her.

After dropping her bombshell, she didn’t get in touch with me for nearly 4 months. I called, left messages, texted, nothing.  Not even on my birthday.  I was spending all my time trying to get my dad back on his feet – he took it all very badly – It transpired she’d been stealing money from their joint & business accounts for over a year.  She had been planning the whole thing.  He was broken.  I didn’t know what to do.  Dad made me promise not to mention it to her, or my sister.

Christmas day, I got a text. “Merry Xmas, Love Mum xxx”. Classy.

I soon realised I was no longer a priority, and to be honest, though it started off hurting like nothing I’d ever known before, I soon got over it. I sure as hell wasn’t going to keep chasing her & begging to have a relationship.

On the 9th April 2006, it aaaaall kicked off.  Friends of ours were moving to France, & had a going away party – the Mr & I went along, it was all lovely, until my mother showed up.  Pissed out of her head.  With scumbag boyfriend in tow.  Somehow, I kept my cool, and just avoided them, despite being all too aware she was making a complete show of herself & completely disrespecting me – the only thing I ever asked, was that she didn’t put me in the same room as the loser who had trashed my family.

After the party, we left, quickly, and got home. I was fuming.  Then she phoned me, still drunk, looking for a row. And oh did she get one. We screamed & shouted at eachother for over an hour. She bad mouthed my dad, my other half and me. The last straw was when she told me it was my fault she’d been ‘stuck with him (my dad) so long anyway’ (She was 8 months pregnant with me when they got married).  I told her that was she was a cold hearted bitch & I had nothing more to say to her until she was sober & ready to apologise, and hung up.

I have never spoken to or seen her since.  Despite living in the same small town.

My Dad received his copy of their decree absolute in August 2007.  I heard from a friend that she re-married TEN days later.

The way I see it, she made her choice. She got her shiney new ‘happy’ life, and I wasn’t part of it.  It took me a long time to get over it, but I did, and I’ll never go back.

I didn’t get in touch with her when I fell pregnant, or when I gave birth. I have no doubt she knows about the little dude (My sister is still in contact with her), but she has never contacted me, and has never met him, and as far as I’m concerned, she never will.  She has caused so much pain to the people I love, and left me feeling betrayed, hurt and confused.  There’s NO way I’m risking her causing my little boy any heartache.  No way.

He has three grandparents who absolutely dote on him.  He’s not missing out on anything.  The only person who is, is her.

And that’s why you’ll never hear me mention my mother.

(Sorry, that got way longer than it was supposed to!!)

 

Mummy Rocks (though not quite as hard as she used to)

So this weekend was spent at Nannie & Grandad Church’s – our first ‘weekend away’ since the little dude arrived.
It was lovely, but also incredibly busy & utterly exhausting!

The main reason for the trip was that the daddy & I had tickets to go see Blur in Hyde Park on Friday, & Nannie C was babysitting for the day – they live in Guildford & we really don’t visit as much as we should, so we decided to stay the whole weekend.

Sooo, first ‘holiday’(ish – does a 3 day stay with the inlaws count as a holiday?) with baby – PLUS the first time I had to leave the baby with someone else for a whole entire day rolled into one – GULP.

Getting ready to leave, was stressful.
You’d think I’d be used to how much stuff my tiny little person needs carted around by now – and to be fair, I have – when it’s just a few hours out & about in town – but THREE days? that’s a whole ‘nother ball game.
Nappies, wipes, bottles, breast pump, steriliser, formula? Check.
Huge bundle of clothes? Check.
Extra clothes incase of sick and or poop incidents? Check.
Loopy links, rattle, cuddlies, bibs, blankies, books, baby calpol ‘just incase’? Check check checkity-check.
But, we got there eventually, and I didn’t forget anything. Well, nothing important anyway 😉

Leaving for the train station on Friday morning, leaving my little man behind – for the whole entire day – for the first time ever – well that was just horrible.
I know, I know – I need to have a life outside the baby, he needs to learn to get along without me sometimes, D & I need time to be a couple, not just ‘mummy & daddy’ – blah blah blah, YES, I know & agree with all of that – but wow, it really doesn’t make it any easier!!
I was pretty good though – I was a tiny bit tearful after kissing him goodbye, and I had a few little wobbles through the day (most notably when Damon sang end of a century – that’s where the little dude’s ‘dirty little monster’ nickname comes from), but on the whole, I coped.

And we had a fantastic day. The gig was incredible, and it was nice to feel all free & crazy & young & wild again for a few hours.
Or as wild & crazy as a girl with a felt fish finger puppet in her handbag can feel.
(finding that in there may have caused one of the wobbles :P)

But as brilliant as it was, I was *SO* happy to get back & squish the little man. I missed him tons.

The rest of the weekend, was a whirlwind blur of nannie & grandad time, doing the rounds visiting D’s rellies – great aunties, great grandad, second cousins… and it was nice, but all very busy, very hot, very tiring.
Getting home this afternoon was a good feeling.

And cuddling up on the sofa with the little dude & the daddy this evening, just the three of us, was even better 🙂

Relatives, Restaurants & Reminders

So I’ve been a little quiet on the blog front, because we had visitors – my auntie & uncle came down from Glasgow to meet the little dude 🙂

It was lovely actually – I hadn’t seen my auntie in *ages*, so it was good to catch up, and she was more than a little taken with her great-nephew (despite the fact that the ‘great’ bit makes her feel everso old!!) – hence the big chunk of spoiling & me not getting a look in at pushing the pram for the last few days!!
(Have noticed a trend there – whenever a relative visits, they insist on pushing, don’t they? Which is all well & good, and it’s nice to have a rest – but I get so used to being attached to the wheels, I don’t know what to do with my hands when someone takes over!)

She also insisted on taking us out for dinner – Little Dude’s first restaurant experience! Having asked google for baby-friendly-eateries, we decided on ‘Ask’ for a spot of Italian. I got the little man all dressed up, packed everything but the kitchen sink into the nappy bag (bottle, bib, burp cloth, toys to keep him amused, dummy just incase, cuddly toy and so on…) and… he promptly slept through the whole 3 courses! absolutely good as gold, didn’t make a peep!
Ah well, perhaps he’s a little young to care about fine dining 😉
We had a lovely meal though – and I managed a new PB of *three* glasses of wine – hic!!

And now we’ve sen them off, it’s back to what’s curently passing for normal!
Which brings me to reminders – my new best friend, is a pad of post-it notes. Since becoming a mummy, my multi-tasking skills are better than ever. My memory, is not. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve got to the shops with absolutely no idea what I wanted. Our tax credit form has been on the to-do list for about a month because I keep forgetting about it. I have called the daddy 3 times today to ask what time we’re meeting friends at the weekend. My head is like a sieve, and unless I write things down, they just don’t happen. And sometimes not even then 😛

Any more experienced mummies want to tell me that the memory loss gets better? Or have any top reminder tips to share?!

Oh, and lastly, just wanted to say a very big thank you to the lovelies who have left me blog awards & things lately – i’m very flattered!!
I haven’t had a chance yet to put together the posts you’re supposed to do & then forward & what not – but I’ll get to it soon, promise! 😀