“I don’t want to be your wife anymore”

Those were the words I finally had to speak to my husband a few weeks ago.  They were not said in anger, they were not the result of a row.  Since being married I feel he has become more secure, which is great, but I have felt less secure.  We stopped talking, he’d play on his phone of an evening when we were supposed to be watching a film, he’d come in from work and be on his phone, and yet when it came to him wanting to do something, we were all supposed to just be in good moods and grateful he wanted to spend time with us.  As you can imagine, feeling like a piece of furniture is not conducive to a great relationship so we did have a row about his phone and lack of interest and he said he’d try harder, especially with the kids, and he has.

I still didn’t feel right.  Instead of looking forward to him coming home, I dreaded it.  I hoped he’d have to go away for work more than I usually did and I decided that I needed to figure out what was going on in my head.  I don’t like doing that.  I usually bob along, making sure everyone is happy and that’s enough, except it’s not is it? Not really.  I file things away in my brain and don’t deal with them.  I’m not good about talking about my feelings either, it’s hard enough figuring out what I’m feeling, never mind explain it to someone else.  I was really unhappy.   He knew I was unhappy.  I kept talking about how I didn’t understand the world, how I never have understood it.  I don’t “get” people and their games, and why they lie, and why they don’t just say what they mean and I feel like I don’t belong to anything and never have done.  Except for my kids.  I fit with them.  They don’t have expectations of me in the same way.  They expect me to be there and look after them, obviously, but they don’t expect sparkling conversation or little amusing bon mots, I’m just there to be mum which I have done for, like, ever- so it’s something I know I can do.  Kids are easily amused, you just act daft and tell poo jokes.

And that’s when I knew what the problem was.  It’s the expectations that fill me with anxiety and unhappiness and the fact that I know I can’t fulfil those expectations.  I am not like most people, I am a nervy, anxious person and according to my husband very black and white about certain things like lying.  I don’t understand lying.  It drives me insane.  Why bother telling lies- you will get found out then trust will be broken and I will think you were trying to make a fool of me.  Ok you don’t have to be blunt but there’s nothing wrong with being honest.  Anyway, I’m going off the point.  The point is I can’t be the wife he expects, society expects and that I think everyone expects.  I couldn’t be the daughter, the sister, the girlfriend that was expected and I’m tired of failing.  So I told him I didn’t want to be his wife.  I told him if he wanted to go and find someone more “normal” he was welcome to, and I wouldn’t hold it against him and we’d make it work with the kids.  As I said, I am not good at expressing myself and the conversation went on for quite a while, as he was checking if I wanted to leave (no), if I was looking for someone else (no), if I was having another breakdown (no).  I just wanted to have my friend back who used to laugh with me, support me, have fun with me, talk nonsense with me, and all the other things we used to do.  I told him being a mum of 4 with each child having such great needs, and the lack of sleep meant I couldn’t be “a wife” the way he wanted.

Then he asked what I needed from him.  I told him I needed no pressure and I needed to know what he wanted.  He wants to be with me.  He wants us to stay a family.  He wants me to deal with everything that’s happened over the last 40 years, however long that takes, and he wants me to be happy.   He told me he didn’t give a **** what society expected.  He told me he always knew I wasn’t like everyone else, then proceeded to list all the ways in which I was different.  The list was quite extensive!  But, he said, I made life more interesting and challenged his ideas on lots of things and came at things from a different perspective.   Him being distant didn’t help our relationship but me being unhappy and maybe pushing him away definitely didn’t help.  Catch 22 situation.  So we are together, in that we are sharing the house and the children, but also back as friends.  Since our chat I feel relieved that he is willing to stand by me while I sort through my head and that he doesn’t expect me to change with regards my “oddness”.  I have found someone I don’t have to pretend with, pretending is exhausting.  I might get a chance to be myself.

I know this may have been a really selfish action, it’s all about me kind of thing, but I didn’t want him to stay and get nothing from it.  He’s allowed a life too.  I’ve told him he doesn’t have to do everything with me.  I’m not keen on going out so if he wants a night out with mates he can do it guilt free.  It’s a work in progress though as I’m not the only one in this relationship with issues.  Just as he has helped and supported me, I will do the same for him, when he’s ready.  We are happier now.  I don’t know how long it will last, I suspect our relationship will always have problems but I think we both feel a bit more confident broaching things with each other now.  If I was going to be with anyone, it would be him, we just have to define what “wife” means to us.  For the first time in a long time I feel a little bit optimistic about the future.  Just a little bit.

 

xx

7 days, 3 hospitals, 2 pox and one pizza ceiling.

It has been a very eventful week. My daughter had a couple of worries with the baby not moving and thinking her waters were leaking so she went to the doctor who immediately sent her to the maternity assessment unit as her blood pressure was high, her pulse was racing and her temperature was up.

At the unit, they hooked her up to monitors, started a trace on the baby, called a consultant and told us they had 15 minutes to treat if it was sepsis and may have to deliver at 33 weeks.  As you can imagine, this did nothing to help the blood pressure situation and with the consultant appearing in 10 minutes (I know, right, you never get them to appear that quickly) we were a bit worried.  I had taken her to the hospital, her husband was at work.  I had a word with the midwife who said to phone him because if they have to do anything it will be done quickly.  So they hang a drip with fluids and paracetomol to try to get the temperature under control.  She had a cold so then they were thinking flu, did swabs, took blood, and then moved her to HDU on the labour ward for 1-to-1 care until stabilised.

Thankfully, they managed to get everything under control and four days later she was released.  Unidentified infection treated with broad spectrum antibiotics, baby measuring fine.  Phew!  Lets go back to enjoying the easter holidays.

2 days later I get a text off one of the mums at school.  Her son has chicken pox.  He is in the foundation unit same as Popples, they have FS1 and 2 in the same unit.  I said I would keep and eye on Popples and if she didn’t get them I would be bringing the kids round for a pox party.  Didn’t need to go anywhere, she had a couple of suspect spots til after the bath- then she was head to toe, even in her hair!  Brilliant!  They could get the pox finally done with and not miss any school.  Oliver showed no signs except a snotty nose which he tends to have until spring anyway.  She had a raging temperature and couldn’t sleep due to the discomfort, so that was fun.  The calamine cream didn’t seem to work, so she has had a lot of cool baths.

2 days after that I was putting up the trampoline they have got for birthdays in the hopes it would save my furniture.  I managed to get the springs onto the frame which made them happy and they sat on it whilst watching me sort out the safety net thing.  As I was opening the metal rods that go at the top to keep it stiff and in place, I didn’t check to see exactly where they were.  They sprang open and caught Oliver in the eye.  Totally my fault, I know better and I should have checked and rechecked.

He started screaming, under his eye was bleeding and I applied a cold compress and tried to check his eye.  He wouldn’t let me look, I couldn’t drive so I asked my daughter to take me to A&E.  After 3 hours a doctor tried to check him but with him not being very cooperative and just alternating between “no, hurt” and singing get well soon, we didn’t get too far.  As a precaution he sent us to another hospital 20 minutes away that has a specialist eye department. Thankfully the nurse there let us jump the queue as by this point Oliver was really agitated.  The nurse and I had to hold him down, he had stuff squirted in his eye and the specialist finally spoke. “No abrasion, no damage to actual eye” and I almost cried with relief.  Oliver couldn’t tell me if he had blurred vision or if it felt wrong so we had had to go to the hospital.  He gave us some cream as the cuts were near his eye and he didn’t want it getting infected.  6 hours after setting off for casualty we could finally go home.

That night in the bath, I noticed a couple of blister spots on his back.  Yep he had the pox too.  I offered him some medicine last night and he nodded and took it so must have been feeling rough.  He’s having a pyjama day today. Hopefully all spots will have scabbed by school on Monday.

Oliver has returned to his old favourite pastime of throwing things.  He is bigger and stronger now so can throw a lot further.  Gooey louie now has no snot left as it’s all been thrown to the ceiling as it sticks.  I made pizza for lunch today so they can pick at it throughout the afternoon as they haven’t had much appetite.  Oliver took his into the kitchen, I thought he was eating on the picnic mat he’d made me put down for them the other day. He came in with a half eaten piece, put it on the plate then took another piece.  He came back again with a half eaten piece so I went to see exactly what he’d been doing.  I saw a bit of cheese on the floor so I picked it up and asked “what’s this” he looked up and said “Stuck!”.  I followed his gaze and sure enough it was stuck.  Bits of pizza stuck all over my ceiling, and tomato sauce where the cheese bit had dropped off.  He is obviously doing some kind of gravity experiment or it must be really good fun to make things stick to the ceiling.  He helped while I was cleaning it up by pointing out the bits of sauce I’d missed.

An that was a week of our restful Easter holidays where I was hoping to recharge a little.  Max got the best deal, his respite people stepped in and took him for a few days as he was stressing about Emily in hospital and the whining of the poxed one gets right on his nerves, so at least someone got a break. Oh and we managed to get the appeal done and sent off too.

xx

 

Snow day!

So last week we were hit by “The Beast from the East”.  We got snow, and sub zero temperatures.  It wasn’t so bad at first, we walked to school and back for 2 days because last time I drove in the snow I bumped the car, much to the delight of the kids in the back who laughed and shouted “Again, again!”.  I couldn’t get up the hill to school so skidded into the kerb twice fortunately not hitting another road user or pedestrian.  So now we walk in the snow, well me and Popples walk and I push Oliver in his major buggy.

On Thursday morning we got a text saying school was shut, the wind had picked up something fierce and the snow was icy in patches and we were upgraded to Amber weather warning.   Beautiful to watch from the safety of the house.

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Winds crept up to over 40 mph the hating was on permanently trying to combat the various drafts.  Scotland was issued with the highest weather warning, there was a 16 car pile up on the motorway, on another motorway people were in their cars for 18 hours.  I don’t remember weather like this.

Friday we got another text – another snow day!  Kids were made up, we haven’t had snow deep enough to build a snowman in their lifetime, so me and Popples braved to wind and cold to build what my husband has called the most sinister snowman ever built.  Now I don’t think he’s that bad, I think it’s quite a good effort.  She was devastated when he started to melt “do something mummy!”

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Oliver managed to keep his clothes on long enough to come out and play snowballs, he was chasing his sister around and laughing his head off.  Lovely to see them playing, not so nice when he managed to hit me with a snowball while I was talking-straight in the mouth.  They ended up dismantling the snowman for more ammunition.

Unlike other countries who do have severe weather regularly, the UK is never prepared for extreme weather be it hot or cold, we come to a standstill.  I think the weather is our nations favourite topic of conversation.  Some have been hit hard, counties have been cut off with people having to walk through 12 foot drifts to get supplies of water, food and fuel.  And after this they’ll have the floods to deal with.  The weather seems to be getting more extreme, I remember when I was a kid we had seasons, now we just seem to get wet, windy and cold.  When we get 2 days of sun its a heatwave!  Anyway the little ones enjoyed their bonus days off- “mummy is it snow day again today?”  no sweetheart it’s back to rain “awwwww it’s not fair, I need a snow day”.

 

xx

Living in chaos.

The electrics in the kitchen were condemned and Wickes were having a 4 years interest free deal on kitchens, how could we resist?  The kitchen was falling apart when we moved in, I think there was only one door still hanging in the end, but with limited finances it got put on the list of things to do- in time.  Now with this deal and our new budget drawn up we could look at getting a kitchen, as the electrics would need doing it could all get ripped out rewired and fitted.  Hooray!

We had a man come round to plan it with us, extra tall cupboards, pull out corner cupboard things, a pull out spice rack drawer and the sink of my husbands dreams (not very exciting dreams admittedly).  In the old coal shed we could put the washer and drier and other sundry items thus leaving the kitchen as just a kitchen.  We booked it after tweaking it to fit in our budget and got an installation date.  Everything going well so far.  As it was a full refit, with electrics, everything had to pulled out and that’s where the chaos started.  The conservatory was packed with stuff we wouldn’t need til after the fitting, the living room contained 2 freezers, a fridge, a tumble dryer, kettle, toaster, crockery, cutlery- you get the picture.  Any other bits were put in bedrooms in boxes.  Kids couldn’t get their toys, we wouldn’t have a working oven for up to 8 working days, no sink for at least 3, no washer.  Fortunately my parents live not far away and would let us eat there and wash the clothes.  So I seem organised and have tried to explain to the kids what’s happening, showing pictures of the new kitchen and moving things while they watch.

Day one- the workmen turn up at 7 on the dot and rip out the kitchen, I say rip out, they probably give it a kick and it collapsed! “I don’t like these mens mummy” says Popples but we seem to cope with the change ok.  We go for tea, do a wash and when we come home the “mens” have gone which makes Popples happy.  Oliver struggles as there is no space for him to play, or lounge with his teddies after a hard day at school.  Then comes the next blow, the pipes have been waggled so a connection to the bath has come lose and started leaked.  The husband caps it off and I text mum asking if we can have baths there too.  He plans to fix it at weekend.  At this point we have one working tap, the bathroom sink.

Behaviours get worse as the week goes on, by all of us.  I’m running around dropping kids off, picking them up, going to the folks, bathing them, washing clothes, packing the clothes in the car to bring home to dry, wrestling three kids back in the car.  It’s chaos.  And for my 2 boys, it’s particularly hard as the routine is gone.  Oliver starts playing up at school.  I end up getting a phone call Thursday to come get him as he has stripped off and won’t get dressed.

The weekend comes and he gets all the plumbing supplies, spends 2 days working on the bathroom, moving the bath and sink as planned to give us more room.  I’d asked 3 times if we should just get a plumber- “no I can do it, it’s just some pipes” turns the water back on at 9pm Sunday night and theres now fountains in the bathroom.  My one tap, my one source of water has gone.  My husband is very upset at this point, clearly it’s more than “just pipes” when it comes to plumbing.  I knock on my neighbours door with 2 jugs begging for water, and I get more than water, I get a 20 minute gossip session too with some very juicy stuff.

The mens fit my sink the next day and I could have kissed him, he also emergency repairs the main pipe upstairs and caps off the rest so we have the water back on.  I get the number for a plumber but Leon knows a friend of a friend (I know, I can see whats coming too).  By this point I’m exhausted and stressed and can’t remember when I last slept and still have to do the school run, cope with three displaced kids and my dad feeding me mega portions as I’m “looking too thin and ill”.  The plumber comes, doesn’t fit the waste pipe properly into the outside waste pipe so when I empty the bath it comes down the newly plastered walls (it’s still drying out).  He also managed to take a tape measure, spirit level, screw driver, saw and other items that had been in the tool box.

I cry.  For hours.  My house is not my home, my kids are stressed, I’m stressed, bits are missing from the kitchen, and then someone says to me “it can’t get any worse, it’ll be great when it’s done” and then they listen to me rant for half an hour.  Leon manages to fix the drainage pipe so the bath works, the kitchen men plumb in my washer and cooker.

On Thursday (a week and a half after it started) I move the living room back into the kitchen, I clean non stop, and organise the toys and rug and teddies and I bring the little ones back from school to a home cooked meal.  Oliver’s face was a picture, wreathed in smiles, teddies on the floor, lying down and covering himself in stickle bricks.  Popples not so happy “I need to go to my nana’s”.

The kitchen is done, the bathroom no longer leaks, Oliver is now keeping his clothes on- at school at least, the odd pencil pot stills goes flying but he has calmed down in school, Max is trying to find his way around the kitchen but knows where the coke and crisps are so isn’t overly bothered about much else.  My husband has agreed in future not to attempt plumbing.  I knew it would be hard but this hard?  Although what eejit attempts a bathroom whilst kitchen is being done?

All settled?  Not a chance, with the severe weather Max’s ceiling has a major leak- think we will leave that to the insurance!

 

xx

 

He’s not naughty! by Deborah Brownson

hes not naughty

I’ve been trying to find some help on how to explain to a 3 year old the complex world of autism.  She has 2 brothers on the spectrum and asks questions which I do try to deal with “why does Max wear ear things?” because noises hurt his ears so this makes them softer so he can listen without it hurting.  The questions keep coming and the word Autistic has been mentioned which resulted in the conversation taking a weird turn “stick? like stick man?  Is he going to get stolen by a dog and get lost?  I don’t want my brother to go”.

Anyway I came across this book “He’s not naughty” when I was doing some research.  A lot of the books I came across had scathing reviews and many of them were about aspergers where my boys are further up (or down?) the spectrum.  This book also mentions aspergers but is not focussed on it exclusively.  It’s about the issues that people on the spectrum face, the senses are broken down, strangers, behaviour, bullying, feelings etc.  and the trauma it causes them.  It is also beautifully illustrated so although the text may be a bit too much for my 3 year old, the pictures are good for starting discussion.  It’s easy reading and explains things simply, so is useful for anyone starting out on an autism journey, be that a family member, friends or teachers.

It’s written by a mum who lives with autism daily, not by a clinician and it’s very matter of fact.  It doesn’t gloss over anything, it just explains things from Jake’s point of view as told by his friend.  I don’t think my review has done it justice, it’s a beautiful book and I see my sons in the illustrations.  It takes a complex disorder and turns it into manageable chunks.  It’s listed as a children’s guide to autism, but I think it’s an all age guide to autism.  It’s overwhelming, and you get used to speaking in jargon and doctor-ese, this book has put me back on the track to explaining to all ages that He’s not naughty!

 

xx

Playing together

Oliver and Popples are 2 years apart, he’s in year 1 now and she’s in nursery.  I always worry that as she grows she will leave him behind and they will both have an element of loss and loneliness.  Yet as I watch them interact and I look back on videos (I’m old school I always call everything recorded “videos”) I worry less.  They have a bond.  They may not always understand what each other is trying to do but they try to get it.

Oliver got hold of my tablet and was watching the videos of him and her playing.  One game he invented was to shout “aaaahhh” at her and she did it back and they got louder and more giggly.  One of them was of Popples putting a happy meal box on his head and saying “burger head” amidst giggles whilst he chased her about with the box still on his head.  She watches him play and I can see in her eyes she doesn’t quite get his obsession with building towers, but then I see her face change, when she wants to play with him, and as young as she is I can see her figuring out how to insert herself into his world and be accepted.  Usually passing a brick, or counting or naming the colour and she’s in.  They have eye contact and a common goal and he jabbers, she talks back- leaves a space for him to answer- then answers for him if there’s no verbal response with a “yeah?” at the end.

He sometimes wants to play with her, he hangs back a bit more, obviously unsure of her more complex games but she notices and invites him in.  They like doing “shops and cooking” as he can name foods and can play tea parties, drinking pretend drinks and nomming pretend food.  He likes to chase, monsters is a popular game in our house accompanied with lots of screaming and bumping into each other.

In the bath last night they were blowing bubbles in the water, he took his turn then looked at her expectantly- being tired she missed the cue, but when prompted, joined in.  Then a bout of screaming at each other and splashing water all over the floor and it was hair washing time.   Laughing he used an octopus toy to rinse her hair, she laughed and then used a fish toy on his hair.  If I had done that there would have been tears, but it was their game and they played for an age- until there was hardly any water left in the bath!

He has confidence in a lot of situations that she lacks and she looks up to him to see if it’s safe.  She is wary of parties and changes at school, but he had his party Wednesday at school so when it came to hers on Thursday she was ok about it cos “my bruvver had one asterday”.  She helps him with his speech and making sure I know what he wants, she accepts him and loves him and looks up to him.  He’s her hero.  He helps her with her confidence and being brave and climbing.  She wrecked his game the other day and where 6 months ago he would have smacked her he shouted “Peppy.  Go away!”.  The fallout was short lived,  It’s much more fun being pals.

I wonder how much is instinct.  When something scary happened when they were playing upstairs he got her into the bathroom and shut the door- obviously the safest place upstairs.  Is that just what older siblings are “programmed” to do?  (obviously they weren’t alone long, certain footfalls a parent hears and knows that it’s not good).  Although they have rivalry over toys, time on knees etc I think their relationship is really good.  I love watching them play, especially when they don’t know I’m watching.  I think I need to worry less- that bond will only grow stronger, so I will just enjoy watching them and their relationship that is pretty much 50/50.

 

xx

Bonfire night

We didn’t have a bonfire- it’s too risky with the little ones and the rain has been so fierce all our wood was wet anyway.  We got a small box of fireworks and some sparklers and some traditional fayre.  Mum brought black peas (eugh!) and parkin, Leon made jacket potatoes and sausages and we sat as a family and ate before the excitement began.  Max loves fireworks now, as long as they aren’t too bangy.  Popples does not like fireworks “they make noise that hurts my ears and tummy” so she had asked me if we could watch from the conservatory.  Oliver had screamed last year and shut himself in the living room until it was all over.  So we were expecting to be doing them primarily for Max.

However, when Leon brought out the boxes, Oliver went and grabbed his coat, hat and shoes.  Max was already ready, and Popples put her coat on and agreed to come outside with me.  That didn’t last long.  As soon as the first fountain had finished, we were in the conservatory.  We could see them and talked about how sparkly they were and she seemed ok with this arrangement.  Under big sisters supervision, Oliver got a sparkler and waved it around with a big smile on his face.  He “ooh”-ed at the roman candles and fountains, jumped and laughed at the rockets and signed for another sparkler, which he got.  The boys thoroughly enjoyed it.  It was a huge surprise after Oliver’s behaviour last year and his dad was made up.  Leon has had a few hard weeks, seems like the anger has given way to sadness, but seeing the boys laughing and taking part really perked him up. He said I’d missed out being inside but I didn’t miss out at all.  I got to see my son’s loving the experience, and I got to see the rest of the family enjoying my sons enjoyment.  We get to see so many struggles so for everyone to see this joy was amazing.  Who knew a few fireworks would bring so much positivity to the family.  Although it may have been that, for the first time ever, our Catherine wheel actually worked!

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xx