Perfectly Happy Mum

Why did my parents fight all the time?

When I was growing up my parents used to fight as bad as the neighbours next door and everytime they start fighting next door I can't help thinking of the 2 little boys growing up in that house. 

I remember the fights, the anxiety, the worry that they would hurt each other. I remember thinking "what is the point in being a couple and having children?" "what is the point of staying together in this sort of relationship...?" 

When I was about 12, I begged my mother to divorce my dad. I wanted them apart. I couldn't do what my sister was doing. She had that marvelous ability to switch off from the screams and the insults they were throwing at each other. She would pick her barbies and she would make up a world of love and fun with them. Most of the time I remember how she was trying to engage me into this world, but I was too worried and didn't want to miss a bit of the conversation. So I used to curl up on my bed and tried to listen as well as I could. Of course I heard things that children should never hear but I had to. Even now I am not sure why it was so important for me to hear the whole conversation. Maybe it was a way of being in control. Maybe it was a way of protecting them thinking that I could interfere if it ever became too bad... I am not sure... 

What I know is that I remember thinking "when I  grow up I want children, but I don't want a husband". So I used to dream that maybe I could marry someone like a long haul pilot. Yes that was my ideal man: the long travel, rarely there and probably the uniform... 

What I remember of my childhood was my mum crying regularly, always stressed and very short tempered with us. I used to hate how she would talk to us but I never stopped loving her. Now I know that was how she expressed her frustration. 

I had to grow up to understand why she never divorced and why she never did something to make it better. I used to think she was selfish for not wanting the best for us. Now I know she was doing what she thought was best for us. She wanted us to have our dad in our life but mostly she was petrified of not doing well enough for us on her own. 

Her relationship with my dad had completely knocked her confidence and her self esteem. and she believed she was nothing without a husband and a "proper married status". She was scared of being alone with 2 children. 

She divorced my dad after 28 years of marriage. She knew it would never get better or that they would never grow old together. I am not a person who dwells or regrets so my belief is that there was a reason for her to stay this long but I often wonder what it would have been like to grow up with parents who loved each other and who respected one another. And I also think of how much better her own life would have been if she had done something. 

I wish I could do something for the 2 little boys next door... 

If you are in abusive relationship, whether physical or psychological talk to someone, it can get better. You do not have to wait for years to get better. If you have children think about them too. Parents who stay together for the sake of their kids do more arm to themselves and the children than good. Don't feel guilty because you feel useless, you are not useless! If you feel like life is a black hole only YOU can find the torch to guide you to the light... 

She's gone home...

 

I am sitting at my desk, it is 16.30 and I am sipping a tea. I am on my own...

Victor is at Super Nanny having a super nap, the sort of nap he doesn’t seem to be having in this house (he’s been asleep for nearly 3 hours!). Elliott is fast asleep too, he fell asleep in the car. We took my mum back to the St Pancreas station this afternoon and the excitement of the tube and train was far too much for him so he needs to recover.

While it is quiet, I am here... on my own... This computer is my only company and the snores of Nala my beautiful dog are my only music...

I feel lonely and I want my mummy back...

Two weeks is a long time to create habits. They say it takes 3 weeks to create a new habit, but with my mum it takes no longer than 3 hours. We know each other inside out and in a matter of minute we go back to our same old relationship.

This time though something weird happened... My mum didn’t seem as young and as strong as she used to be. My mum is now a grandmother as well as a mother. She plays with the boys and look at the boys like a grandmother. I am a mother now. I am my little boy’s mother and she is their grandmother.
Wow that’s weird... It feels weird because I still feel like a little girl and act like a child with her.

There I am a big 34 years old MOTHER, acting like a child. Telling my mum that I am jealous of the way she treats my nieces and nephew and that my babies do not get the same treatment. I accuse her of not loving my babies as much and showing a different side to them. Elliott is a tough cookie at times. He is touchy and independant. My mum is enthusiastic and sharp at times. Elliott is a bit daunted and the 2 of them always had a tough relationship. It does hurt me... a lot...

But these last two weeks were great. Elliott got to know mum a bit more and grew closer to her. He even went as far as giving her a cuddle or two which was like a Oh-My-God moment!

I always hate saying goodbye, I can't help it. I always have that knot that won't loosen until a few days after and I start having it a good couple of days before. My mum is getting older and she would probably have me killed for saying this in the public place. I have to say though that she still looks stunning. She barely has any wrinkles and I am praying for this part of my genetical inheritance to have been transfered without damage. She is always elegant and I don't know how she does it.

She is the bravest and strongest woman I have ever met, yet she looks so fragile at times.

I'll always remember that 29th of June 1984. It was my sister's birthday and there was a musical festival in our town. I remember that we were waiting for her at home, I was 9 and my sister 5. 
My mum had gone somewhere but we weren't too sure where. We wanted her back so we could go to the main square to listen to some bands. It was exciting and my sister was enjoying her day. Then she arrived and all I remember is all of us crying...

Just a few weeks before she had found a lump under her arm. She didn't pay much attention at first but convinced by my grandmother she made her way to the doctor. She thought she was ok, just a check and soon after we would all go on holiday.

On that day of June she went back to the Doctor on her own, after being called back in to hear the results of a biopsy. It had been made just to reassure everyone that she was ok, it turned out that it saved her life. 
She sat in front of that doctor on her own to be told "you have breast cancer"... ON HER OWN for heaven sakes! and she drove back home on her own to, to announce to us that she had something inside of her threatning to kill her...

You know what she did after hugging us all? She said "ok let's go and have fun at that Festival shall we?" and we did. We did have fun and I remember the gig really well. I just can't bare to imagine what went through her head that evening. How did she manage to look so relaxed? How did she cope on her own?

During what should have been her holidays, she had an operation and radiotherapy. She was lucky enough not to have chimiotherapy, but she had so many operations and was emotionally and physically dranied for a few years. We were totally oblivious all that time. Not once I remember my mum complaining. She lived her life acting and saying "F*** you!" to cancer and she beat it. I remember her spending hours of conversation with my aunts and grandmother who were crying, being scared for her, and her telling them that it was ok, cancer wouldn't have her. And it didn't and I will never stop being grateful for it.

I often wonder how it felt when she heard the news in that doctor' surgery. How did it feel that evening when she had to pretend that it was all fine? How the hell did she manage to drive home having just heard the news? Did she cry before she got home? How often did she cry on her own?

I am scared to ask, because in a way I am feeling shameful for not having been a real support when she needed it the most. I suppose that my sister and I were her support more than anything else. I want to believe that the reason she is alive and with us today was because we needed to be for us. So maybe in a way we helped by being that reason she fought to stay alive at a time when breast cancer was killing much more than today.

I am so proud to be her daughter...

Photos are from a very dusty album

PS I have just realised that I didn't announce the results of the Friday Cheesy Song! I am so sorry, wacth this space on Friday to have the confirmation of what you can obviously read in the comments...

Battle of the Blood... or just zip it Mother!

My mum arrived exactly a week ago and as always the rollercoaster has had as many highs as lows in the last 7 days and 5h09 min... I love her more than anything and she truly is my best friend. I have always had that sort of amazing relationship with her. The sort of relationship most my friends envied with passion. She is my confident and the shoulder to cry on, even miles away. We have always been able to tell her everything, I mean EVERYTHING. She knew all our little secrets as well as my friends' secrets. 

I simply love her with passion, and you know when you love with passion you also fight with passion and that's what we do... quite regularly actually...

So far we have argued about how to make chocolate mousse, how I would like her to stop interfering when I am parking the car, how I would like her to STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO ALL THE TIME!!! She can't help it! She has a better way, ALL THE TIME! She tells me that she used to shut up and listen to her mum. The thing she forgets, is that I was there with her and her mum, and boy did they fight! and for the same reasons actually, so zip it Mother! 

She can't get her head round to the fact that she says "do that" and I won't, she says "don't do that" and I will. 

The problem with this is that the minute she leaves I feel guilty. I feel that she doesn't know how much I love her and how much I appreciate her help and efforts when she visits us. I want her to know that I love her, and that OK she might be better than me at the chocolate mousse , but I am still fine to park my car WITHOUT HELP OR DIRECTIONS! (well most of the time anyway...)

So this is my pledge:

From this day I will hear the commands and will obey like a good girl that (she thinks) she was with her mum. I will take her advice and do it my way when she goes, and I will not forget to tell her how much I love her all the time... 

Je t'aime Maman!

Please tell me, is it a common thing, or am I the only one stuck in this exhausting relationship with her mum?

OK I have to go... just been told to get off the computer... Yeeesss Muuummm... 

Photo credit HA! Designs, Artbyhearther