Month: December 2005

More the brooding, so angry I can’t breath, rage kind of silence.

Chef – after not buying me a Christmas present, not even wrapping the one I bought for him to give me (on his request – to buy it that is) nor giving it to me during the whole family gift exchange – fell ill four days ago.

Some of my family – the ‘good’ uncle, his wife and my cousin – were coming over that day. We went to see The Lion, the witch and the wardrobe in the moring with the boys and I thought he seemed quiet – but put it down to tiredness, over-eating and not getting any sex. He finally told me he didn’t feel well around midday – to which I replied, ‘why don’t you tell me these things earlier, like, “poppet, I feel sick, I need to go back to bed”, rather than just moping around which just IRRITATES THE HELL OUT OF ME.

So he went to bed about midday, or one-ish. By this point I was fairly knackered because it’s been OVER 35C here every FRIGGING day for oh, about a week and after several weeks of baking, gift buying and all the other day to day CRAP that seriously does my head in (there is SO no hope for me if just basic domesticity is the trigger for my depression). Since we got back from spending two days with my Dad & Stepmother’s (who informed me she had nits, and well, quite frankly I haven’t stopped itching since), who are building their very own bunker two hours out of Sydney in a place renown for high winds and brown snakes, I had been cleaning constantly. Loads and loads of washing, new toys to accomodate blah blah blah.

Then, the day before yesterday and the day after Chef declared himself sick, we had 12 people for brunch for Chef’s Mum’s birthday.

He.didn’t.even.get.up.

So there I was, breastfeeding the youngest, entertaining and getting the other two dressed etc, going down to the shops to get all the things he and his Dad had forgotten or not thought about the day before (like decent bread and some fruit – they did however have enough eggs, two kinds of sausages and bacon to feed a small African nation), still frantically cleaning up and cooking everything for the arrival of the crowd at 9.30.

He surfaced at some point to set up the table and chairs outside and then went back to bed. I had no idea when he did this as I was basically blind with rage. Here I was, up until 11.30 the night before preparing some of the food and cleaning up our house and then up from 5am doing everything else the morning of while he FUCKING STAYED IN BED.

Of course, he hadn’t bought anything for his mum either.

I’m sorry, but the concern and charity for his illness was long gone after I worked out he’d been in bed for SEVENTEEN hours. It was heading for the hills and half way to Perth by the time we all sat down to eat, he appeared, ate TWO plates of food AND then a couple of these sweet little tarts that were like pecan pies but without the nuts.

What sort of illness is it that befalls someone to bed when anything has to be done, but then completely disappears to STUFF YOUR FACE, only to return to bed again when the crowd leaves and the cleaning up remains?

He basically stayed in bed, occasionally venturing to the couch yesterday but soon disappearing again when he realised deathbywife may be a bigger issue than illness.

Here it is. When it is 30C + every FUCKING DAY. When ALL OF YOUR FUCKING FAMILY is coming over at 9.30am. When you have three children. You do not have the LUXURY of staying in bed for FOUR FUCKING DAYS with a flu type illness. Take some drugs, go to the doctor, SUCK IT IN because it JUST ISN”T GOOD ENOUGH.

I realise there are people in the world far worse off than me. I realise this is such a pathetic whinge about nothing. I realise I should have been more compassionate (even if on the inside I was/am SEETHING). But fuck off. I’m angry. Disappointed. And let down. Once more.

Oh, and my right breast is so friggin sore and I am so achey. I can feel the mastitis charging in my direction. (Funny, the last two times it ‘almost’ descended, only beaten by my relentless expressing, ice packs and heat packs, was when I was standing on my feed too much and doing too much. Isn’t that curious.)

We’re meant to be at the Doodles tonight – for fondue. But with the weather and my spouse driving me FUCKING insane, we are all at home. Just here. In the same physical space but so very far apart.

Happy New Year.

I realise it’s only three days after Christmas but my festive charitable spirit has officially fled.

First, I spend the better part of two weeks planning, organising, facing the shops and buying presents. Chef does none of this. Although he joins me for one session looking so pathetically bored and morose it really is a lot easier without him.

I bake for days in stupidly hot weather. This isn’t such a chore as we all know how much I love it, but still, a little recognition blah blah blah.

The day before Christmas, that’s right, on the EVE I face the shops again, with baby in tow, while Chef and the boys LOUNGE around in the pool at the inlaws (it was close to 40C this day) to buy a present for HIS brother as well as buying final supplies for dinner that night with HIS parents and Christmas day. I also buy MY present from Chef as ‘he just didn’t have time’. I can not tell you how that is currently searing a dark black hole into my heart. Petty, yes, still present, naturally.

That night I eventually meltdown as it was SO FUCKING HOT and I did all the cooking (Chef cut up octopus) while he sat outside enjoying the whiff of a breeze and multiple acoholic beverages. Finally, when all was said and done and I got to sit down, the children requested drinks and who did NOT even make motion of getting them? I did crack.

Christmas day was kinda nice, although Chef didn’t give me my present when we were all doing the present thing, as it was still up in our room where I had left it, presuming at least he would WRAP it. But no.

Boxing Day featured another scorcher as we tried to gather stuff up to head to my father’s place for an overnight stay. The boys were fractious, tired and teary. I worked hard to manage them into a state of relative calm so we could pack in peace and with pace. So Mum had to enter the fray. This ended in her having a stand-off with Felix over one of his presents and letting her and Oscar play with it. I finally lost it when she uttered, “I’m not going to let you win”, followed by a value judgement of him “not being very nice” to not share.

I’m still smarting about the whole incident and naturally, she’s trying to pretend nothing happened and everyone’s happy families by just BEING HERE ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Well, that’s actually a lie as I think she can feel the anger and resentment searing out of my very pores so she’s trying to give me a wide berth, but throwing a nice dose of passive agressive interference in there as well.

Oh – another thing, my brother showed up two hours late without his partner, the one he hooked up with over the Net and about 6 weeks after leaving his wife of 12 years and four month old baby. He told me a few weeks back that they had spent $500 on ex-rental videos from their local video shop which was offloading them. I am hoping you understand my incredulity and hurt then, at his present to us which was a $2 scratchie and a cheap-arse box of chocolate sultanas and chocolate sticks. Nothing for the boys. I just love where his priorities lie don’t you?

Bleuchhhh. It’s so FUCKING hot, I’m so FUCKING over it, I just want to sit down, put my feet up and simmer, but other relatives are due to arrive any minute to ‘see me’ (as Mum keeps REMINDING me) and the house looks like a bomb has hit it.

OH, and Chef doesn’t feel well, so after snorning on the lounge as I brought in two of the three loads of washing I did, washed up, picked up a bazillion things off the floor, did FUCKING craft activities with the boys because we have friends who must hate me and gave the boys crafty presents, and sweated like a pig, he went to bed. He’s been sleeping for about 2 1/2 hours now…

Can you feel the rage? CAN YOU?

As the children lie on the lounge in a mind and physical state of post present bliss, as I start on the Sparkling Burgundy (all timed around breastfeeding I promise), with the pudding boiling on the stove and the ham warming in the oven, Merry Christmas to one and all. May your day be filled with love, laughter, great food and lots to drink.

xxxK

So much has happened this year in the year-long lead up (or is that countdown) this house lives until next Christmas.

• I have been alive and old enough to witness a Government enter a phase where it is living out the absolute power corrupts absolutely adage, and marvel as its leader tells everyone to trust them, and expects us to fall for that old trick.
• I’ve seen enough Newspolls to know that maybe the general public is as stupid as the Leader hopes and seem to be doing exactly that. I’m also old enough now to know that when they come to realise they’ve been had (probably in another decade when the damage runs too deep and is ‘too hard’ to resolve) it won’t be smug ‘I told you so’ sentiment I feel, but sad resignation that such is the make of the man.
• I’ve witnessed the same Government, lie about things like children overboard, the treatment and illegal detainment of fellow human beings, instil a sense of fear as motivator in the general populace rather than a sense of hope and promise. I’ve witnessed the same Government give legitimacy to racism by making statements like ‘we will decide who comes to this country and how they get here’ to then turn around when mad, angry, young (and drunk) ‘Anglos’ descend on a young person of lebanese descent (not that it makes any difference, but who in all likelihood was probably born in Australia and has lived here all his life) with the visciousness only pure racial hatred can manifest, as ‘payback’ for an incident the weekend prior and claim it wasn’t racially motivated. I saw one Newspoll which did a little to restore my faith we’re not all stupid and willing to be spoonfed by those in power by contradicting this Leader’s blind stupidity.
• I’ve seen this Government do more to fundamentally change the Australian way of life in the shortest space of time than I know I will probably ever witness in my life again. They’ve created a system that makes independent living a pipedream for my son with special needs (my only hope is that by the time he is of the age that he will be affected, a more humane system will be in place). They’ve instigated an industrial reform process that while needed, is so pitted against people just trying to make a living and a life it is remarkable. I am actually alive and witness as an elected Government brings in a system that will create a working poor underclass.
• I’ve witnessed a Government who talks about the economy as if it is a person and is doing things for the economy to the complete detriment of the society that has to live with it.
• This is the same Government who has an education minister giving oxygen to creationists.
• The same Government with a rising infilitration of the conservative religious Right. How many countries have a Leader who will attend the opening of an auditorium of a evangelical church?
• At the same time, I’ve returned to the workforce as a wage earner, not a self-employed freelancer. I have loved every.single.minute. Even the bad minutes, of which there have been very few.
• We decided to put off having more kids and just have a year of getting back on our feet financially and maybe taking the boys on a holiday that involved air travel and maybe even a passport.
• So we had a baby, and I had another nine months of dragging around my carcass but secretly loving every minute of feeling that new life growing inside of me.
• We went from a family of four to a family of five.
• My husband got the biggest promotion of all to now running his own (well, with two partners) restaurant. This is as monumental as the point above.
• This Christmas marks the longest time off happy pills in the last four years.
• Oscar is talking a lot more and making more attempts at more sounds. Now to just get them into speech.
• Felix has finished his first full year of big school relatively intact, and with a best friend who has no siblings at all. I see them commiserating over their family structures already. “you get your own room,” “yeah, but you have someone to play with all the time” and so on.
• I joined a gym and have discovered I really REALLY like boxing.
• I think I carry a lot of anger. Or maybe it’s frustration.
• I finished the first year of my Masters in Professional Writing, majoring in creative writing. It’s the first time I’ve studied anything and not felt like it was a drag.
• We are almost debt free. All that’s left is the car and Amex bill. I don’t think you realise just how massive this is. It means, by the middle of 2006 we can seriously start thinking about saving money for a house…which will probably be an investment unit in Toongabbie, but you get my drift.
• I killed about 9 fish. Many of those in the space of one week after over zealous fish tank cleaning and introducing new fish to a cohort that had been perfectly happy on their own thank you very much.
• I’ve gone from loving my cat to almost pure hatred. It’s slowly dissipating back to begrudging acceptance as Jasper gets older. I find this really freaky.
• We went camping and loved it. I can’t wait to go again, but somehow know that getting away in 2006 is going to be the biggest pipedream of all.
• I started this blog with Bec and would feel bereft without it.
• Now I need to find a balance between here and reading books, rather than other people’s blogs.

Oh, and Jasper slept through the night again. Unconditional love is a myth. The more nights this child sleeps through, the more I love him.

Today, he did the biggest poo that leaked up to his armpits and required a bath. He thought this was pretty cool. I found him, lying in a splat of his own faeces, merrily sucking his thumb and moaning in delight. He is so his father’s son.

The best thing about hearing Mr Whippy coming and the boys knowing it’s not a question of can we? but a question of what sort will I have today? is who will get the rest of Oscar’s after he’s eaten about half of it.

Rufus Wainright is an amazing singer, as is Madeleine Peyroux. They, along with Bernard Fanning are going to be the markers of our summer of 2005/2006.

I’m about to make my fourth dozen of fruit mince tarts.
It’s about 29C.
I’m really really tired. I am actually done with baking for the moment.
It takes a lot for me to reach such a point.

Jasper slept through the night (second time) and rolled over onto his back sometime during that wondrous sleepyland.

that is all.