I hate feeling like I only come back to this space when my life is less than ideal. I have said it before and I’ll say it now again, I don’t write my happiness. I tend to savour my happy moment s and live them without wanting to share that with anyone. Yet when my mind is in turmoil and I have a lot on my plate I come back to the proverbial pen and paper. I need to write the bad to make sense of it and to be able to let it go.
So since the last time I posted I have been sick, like cannot get out of bed sick. I had a chest infection and flu and a little something called erythema nodosum, lovely raised and swollen red bumps on my legs that hurt like hell. I was given four different anti biotics and literally slept through two days, most unlike me. It took me a full ten days to feel human again and is an experience I would rather not have to repeat, ever.
I had a bit of a confrontation with my manager in which I expressed my concerns around my current working environment. I was firm and I stood up for myself knowing that she could not make me the irrational pregnant woman this time. She agrees on certain of my issues and will never see the validity in others but to be fair life has been a lot more pleasant since our chat. I still know I need to make a move this year but for now she has made a bit of effort and it is not going unnoticed.
Then the really crappy stuff. For those who do not know, we have been living with my mother since March. Not for any reason other than we were trying to help her. She did not work for well over a year and when she did get a job she was just not making ends meet as well as she could have. She got a six month break on her bond and with her bond payment looming and no extra income we decided since we could not afford our rent and her bond that we would just live with her and pay her bond, rates and taxes and water and lights.
I should have known better. I did. I just wanted to help.
It has been so incredibly difficult. It is near impossible to have a relationship under the microscope of scrutiny that is my mother’s judgement. This from a twice divorced woman who has not had one proper functional relationship in her life mind you. There is always something she is commenting on and sighing about. So we fight. Our s*x life has gone from good to all but non-existant and we actually don’t have any privacy or time alone. It is freaking beyond frustrating.
Financially we feel over extended. My brother lives in the house and contributes next to nothing and my mom contributes very little. Our nanny cleans and does laundry. I cook. We buy 80% of the electricity for the pre paid metre, we buy 80% + of the groceries. In essence it is costing us a good R2000-R3000 more than we were spending in our own place.
My mom and my brother are not nice to my kids, in fact to say that their cats gets treated better would not be a stretch. I jokingly told my brother when I was sick that I was dying. He said don’t do that none of us want your kids. Great family huh? I told my mom he had crossed a line when he said that and if he crossed that line again we would leave. He crossed that line when he smacked my son.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am never going to be that mother who claims to have perfect children. I am also never going to claim to be a perfect mother. Haedyn was playing with my brother’s remote controlled car, something he should not have done and something for which he did indeed deserve to be in trouble for. That said, it was not my brother’s place to smack him. My mother said she told him to do so and to my mind it was not and is not her place either. I told my brother that it was not ok and it was not to happen again.
Now of course my mother jumped up and chose this moment to attack me. Claiming I had short payed her, despite my having tried to do a transfer the day before, she could not give me a branch code, and actually doing the transfer that morning. I got yelled at and told how my sainted brother has now had to bail her out so her debit orders would not bounce. The first time except for a once off R300 contribution, that he had given my mother even a cent in the months we had been there and he is praised to the ends of the earth, go figure.
Because I am me and she is her, this quickly degenerated into mud slinging and name calling. I am a slut, an awful mother, so screwed up it’s a wonder I can function, ungrateful, a trouble starter, the centre of every family issue in the history of my family and she is done with me for good. My kids are screwed up and all they do is lie and cheat and steal and break things. They are a mistake and I have fucked up everyone’s lives by having them. I have ruined them. I need to stop pretending to be perfect and get off it.
In turn I called her out. How can she judge my parenting when she was never a good mother. She was out drinking and screwing around when I needed her most after my dad died. She was disinterested in me for as long as I can remember. I told her she takes her grandchildren for granted and it makes me sick to know it thinking of how many people would give anything to have grandchildren. We screamed. We got ugly. She told me to pack my shit and leave.
This is what I get for trying to help.
Since the fight all she does is yell at my kids, calling them useless and thieves, cos you know kids stealing a lollipop means they are delinquents destined to become hardened criminals, and ignore me. For God’s sake she even treats my dog like crap just because he is my dog.
This are beyond tense and we need to move out. Easier said than done and all that. Deposits etc don’t pay themselves L
My hear breaks for what my kids are going through. I hate that she cannot hate me and leave them out of it. I wish she could be the grandmother they deserve. They are always in trouble and I get home a good hour after my mother so I cannot control her coming home and taking her mood out on them. So for right now I feel like we are living in a war zone. I need to figure out how to get enough cash together to get us out and I need to do it fast.