Nine, nine, Oh nine.
It’s the ninth day of the ninth month in 2009 and I haven’t posted for ages and ages. This is partly because I had a friend from England to stay, one who has known me for an unmentionable number of years, and every spare moment was devoted to squeezing in as much fun as we possibly could before she had to go home again.
Now she is gone and I am trying not to slip into the slough of despond.
I am failing.
Nine, nine, Oh nine.
This morning Husband left very early on a day-long business trip and neglected to pack the children’s lunches or tidy up the dishes from last night as per our pact, so after being awoken to the wailing banshee of Two at 6am I came in to find utter kitchen chaos which left me almost breathless with irritation.
Things went downhill from there.
The boy went berserk because I wouldn’t give him a bottle of milk. He has recently had a tummy bug and all dairy goes immediately and odorously through him which is most unpleasant for all concerned. However he is not yet at the stage of accepting this unfortunate cycle himself so he threw himself on the floor and howled at top volume and hit viciously at my ankles while I tried, grimly, to make tea.
Nine, nine, Oh nine.
I hoped that our incredibly nosy neighbour was not listening at this hour. Apparently on Monday, the day my friend left, Two threw such a tantrum in the garden when I took her to the airport (a bottle and mummy denial combo deal) that the said neighbour actually called the police and claimed that a child was being beaten on our property. They turned up, took one look at Husband, Five and Two and left again – by that stage Two was happily giggling and playing in the sandpit, but we were slightly alarmed that he could shout that loud, and that our neighbour has moved on from merely phoning the cops when we a) have a party or b) play the stereo too loud (above number 3 on the dial) – he gets the Sherriff round on some pretext or other every couple of weeks and it’s driving us mad. He’s on to a new one now with crying child complaints which may or may not get us a visit from social services. No matter that there are no fewer than six children under five who live within three houses of his, four of them living between him and us. There is the consolation that if he keeps up the frequency of the calls we might get a restraining order on him as a nuisance caller which would be deeply satisfying.
No, I am not going to do this and then point burglars his way. *coughkarmicjusticecough*
Nine, nine, Oh nine.
I have all these fabulous plans for the autumn which include classes for me, raising my business from a dormant state to a thriving, moneymaking venture again, polishing my attitude until it shines, sorting out the garage, throwing away all my clothes that I don’t like, making sure Five gets a good start at school, healthy eating for the whole family, rekindle the romance in my marriage etc.
So far, though, I’ve only managed to rewire my studio and install Snow Leopard into my Mac. It’s slow going.
Nine, nine, Oh nine.
Husband told me tonight he felt I was “Trying to force him into a part time career” by asking him to help care for his children. He said that other people his age were moving ahead with their careers, traveling, being noticed, being published, and that this was a critical time, a critical age for anyone and that because I asked him to come home twice per week at either 6 or 5.30, depending on my dance class time I was preventing him from having this fabulous opportunity.
I sat speechless for a minute. Had he not noticed that I was the same age as him and that my ‘career’ was going, let’s see, um NOWHERE because I am, um, let’s see, CARING FOR HIS CHILDREN??
AGHHH! So unfair! Not only am I not getting to do what I want, but I’m being blamed for him not getting the career he wants, and as far as I can see I gave up mine so he could have his and he still doesn’t like it or think it’s enough. How did this happen? I didn’t exactly mean to be in this position. I didn’t really want to be stuck in Stepford for six years, where there is no real job opportunity for a person like me, especially not part-time with two little ones, and everything I do seems to be grossly unappreciated. I’m a city girl, I want to be in a real metropolis with my own kind, not in this sleepy burg where I am an alien and I sink a little deeper every day into housewife hell. I worry some days that I will implode.
Nine, Nine, Oh Nine.
Roll on Ten.
{ 15 comments }
Ouch – you have had a bad day.
I sympathise with the drifting – sinking? – into housewifedom, and the frustrations of not running your own business. I see myself gradually turning into 1950’s mum, pinny on, preparing dinner for husband when home, doing all the washing, cleaning, etc. Somehow our household jobs have become very stereotyped!
Roll on 10 indeed
(unless that is the hour hubbie gets home from work…)
My sister once coined the apposite expression, ‘not all men are annoying, some of them are dead’
beat him over the head with a hardback copy of the Female Eunuch until he realises how ridiculous he’s being.
” The one point on which all women are in furious rebellion against…is
the saddling of the right to a child with the obligation to become the
servant of a man”
G.B. Shaw, The Right to Motherhood, 1911
As Janeway wrote : “The problems which plague women involve decisions about choice and priority of values. …Women will be part-time cooks, part-time intellectuals, part-time workers. The phrase ‘part-time’ catches a lot of the essence of the feminine life-style…”(1972:96)
I am with you on the city girl trapped in a strange place (esp this week – just missed the Cult and Motorhead). I am sorry for roadblock. I love your autumn goals (and you can send me any old clothes!). And your neighbor is an asshat – wasted social service complaints keep kids who need it from getting help.
I can feel your unhappiness and frustration loud and clear through the internets.
know what you mean about giving up a career and moving to a new place. you have two very lovely children, you’ll probably look back at this time and smile- thinking of the sacrifice you willingly made for motherhood. i wish you all the luck in setting up your business again- you go girl!
as for the neighbour- these are the things which i dislike about N. America- people abuse the system, and as Jessica K has rightly pointed out, these complaints eat into the time which is reqd for real complaints. i’d report HIM.
best wishes and love, s
God, men are depressing sometimes. And by that I mean ALL men, my own husband included. I do hope that you managed to contain yourself for long enough for you to ask him to repeat back what he just said so that HE could hear how ridiculous it sounded. Or did you just do what I would have wanted to do, and reach for the nearest baseball bat?
Husbands. They should think very carefully before opening their mouths…I really feel for you and know exactly what you are going through. So many of us give up so much for our other halves, and the appreciation is definitely not always there.
Do you have a work permit? I only ask because I managed to get one, having not realised that I could on my J2 visa. It was relatively easy. Email if you need to know more.
Your neighbours sound unbelievable. I am punishing them by spelling them the English way NEIGHBOURS. There. That should fix them.
I’m glad that Ouch and Phew is going well.
Absolutely loving your blog. Your husband sounds like he needs a swift kick up the ass! Grrr. I’m not married, but even when my boyfriend visits, he thinks it’s ok to sit there on the sofa watching tv while I stand and iron all his clothes. The best bit is when he goes to fetch himself a drink without asking me if I want one too, and leaves me standing there, mouth gaping like a fish at what he just did.
Us woman need to stick togther :-))
I’m now subscribing to your blog by email…woulod love for you to have a look at mine.
http://www.madenglishwoman40.blogspot.com
Best wishes
Julie
They do need to occasionally think before they open their mouths. I don’t think any of them are immune. That is not to say that I could do with a bit of thinking before opening my mouth on many occasions, but men have a certain way of really demeaning you (without meaning to at all, but by just being selfish).
Hope today is turning into a 10 day.
PS – you are not alone in feeling this way. There are a LOT of us out there.
I was just getting ready to write back to everyone when I noticed that among many of the IRRITATING things about Snow Leopard, it seems to have unlogged me in to my own blog so I have to register myself to make a comment. Very strange.
Thank you all for such nice comments.
Catharine, I don’t understand how the roles became so polarised. This would be an interesting thesis for someone. Perhaps it is being written right now. How did the 21st century start going backwards? Why are there so many choices, but still so few? Shrinkrap seems to have a few ideas..
Mrs.T I think your sister has it spot on. Between Husband and my neighbor I am coming to prefer all the dead ones. We can venerate them without paying attention to their foibles.
Great quotes, Shrinkrap.
Jessica, how very unfair to have missed the Cult AND Motorhead in one week. This would never have happened to you back in the day. You would have been backstage swilling whiskey in a leather miniskirt with the band quoting obscure poetry at them. It’s just not right.
Exromana. Yes, it’s a lonely business moving to a new place which you know only too well yourself. I don’t mind the sacrifice for motherhood so much, it’s fine to make some, but it’s not healthy to sacrifice one’s entire self in service of the family and then not even be appreciated for it. It is important to retain a sense of who one is. And important for children to see that women can have healthy, satisfying lives while still caring for and loving and raising children. And their father also has a hand in this, no? He seems to have forgotten that they are half his which means that when he’s not at work he needs to step up to the plate, quit bitching and be part of the family. This is the 21st century, not the 19th!
Potty Mummy. I wanted the baseball bat. I did. But I repeated it to him. He didn’t get it. I then explained it carefully and slowly to him. He did not appear to get it. I adjourned the meeting so that I did not fetch the bat. I have now made a policy decision to do what I want anyway without consulting him and he can just suck up the consequences and pay the babysitting bill. The alternative is being a single parent and he may find that more time consuming 😉
Nappy Valley Girl. And yet they don’t think very carefully, do they? Or at least mine forgets to, or he does think and this is what comes out anyway, grr. I actually have a green card so I could work if I wanted to. Stepford is very limited in job opportunities, especially for someone of my rather bizarre background (one day I will post my cv for a laugh) but I do plan to resurrect my business and see if it will fly in the current economy. I don’t have a plan B if that doesn’t work, but I will be thinking hard on one, you can bet on it. Next goal, financial independence once more!!!
Iota, YES! That will fix him! Tosser.
MadEnglishwoman. Thank you for stopping by. I recommend you cease and desist all his ironing IMMEDIATELY! I stopped doing all of Husband’s laundry years ago. I only do mine and the kids’ now. Husband also used to do the only get himself a drink thing, too until I started cooking meals only for myself and he soon got the message. I stopped by your blog – lovely! I’ll come by again.
Brit in Bosnia. Surely we NEVER have to think without opening our mouths:)?
You are right, it is the thoughtless, self absorbtion of it that really got to me. As if, because I have a vagina, all that talk didn’t really apply to wifey. And just a few scant years ago I was earning more than twelve times what he earned, we lived in MY house in MY town and the world was my oyster. Now I’m the nappy changer and dogsbody and I’m pretty much invisible. AGHHH.
Things are going to change around here, let me tell you. That was a wakeup call.
There are a few things I know for sure in life, and one of them is that no one should take you (and I mean you specifically) for granted.
Yes, obscure poetry and a miniskirt. I want that on my grave.
MY goodness, your husband doesn’t know how good he has it! Mine had to take two days off last week (I took one) to take care of a sick child, he packs the kids lunchboxes, drops both kids at daycare every day, does all the washing up and most of the grocery shopping. I pick up the kids, make their dinners, and do all of the laundry and most of the cooking.
I think one problem is that employers don’t expect men to have to leave ‘early’ because of family commitments, and the guy ho does is breakig the mold, and it maybe sad but true that the family oriented is risking his career a little bit. But as someone, I have forgotten who, said, and I misquote “No one ever lies on their death bed thinking “I really should have put in more hours at the office”.
Where do I start? I don’t, otherwise I will end up in a fuming, incoherent rant.
All I can say is, this made my BLOOD BOIL. Perhaps it is time for someone else to start making sacrifices for YOUR career.
Comments on this entry are closed.