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Feeling fragile

6 August, 2013

Sunday evening closed with a restlessness in the house. Hubby and I were both restless but at 9pm it felt too early for bed and so I stayed up a bit longer before heading up. Our daughter went to bed crying with her headache as I packed her off. It was an ok night’s sleep, with me waking in the morning around 5.30am.

Then things went wrong. Daughter was in bed and a mess of tears. It looked like it was going to be one of those days. Hugs were delivered. Hubby instead of being his caring loving self (is he ever?!) heard that she was bad and when I was downstairs I could hear him screaming at her.

Daughter came down to me and I enveloped her in another hug. Of course yelling at her is going to get her out of bed and heading to a school she says she hates! I don’t know where his brain went. So she is staying at home.

Out to the car and I take my picture for the day – “Early”, my coffee in the frosty capeweed. The car is covered in ice and hubby is sitting there with the wipers ineffectually wiping the icy screen. It’s bad enough that he will drive down the road with a fogged up windscreen but today was the limit.

I was angry and yelled at him. Called him a “tosser”. Got a bottle of water filled and drenched the now defrosting car. I gave out about how irresponsible a driver he was and was the screaming bitch outside of the car. He of course could only think of the neighbours (quarter of a kilometre away).

He then got rightly annoyed with me, stating that we’d be taking separate cars from now on as he started the drive into work. Stoney silence filled the car and when I tried to quietly ask hubby why he’d yelled at our daughter he bit back that he didn’t “want to talk” to me. “We’re history”.

He then said he was sick of being late into work every day after dropping me and I was to take the car for the day. As I sat there in the car then I thought that if he did indeed let me have the car and we were as he stated, “history”, he could make his own damn way home and I wouldn’t collect him.

Instead though, (whether force of habit or he forgot his threat) he dropped me off to work. Lucky save for both him and I, I suppose.

Work was work and I just got on with things. In the evening when he collected the youngest boy (who comes into town after school) and I and then the middlest boy I sat in the front of the car acting (in my own mind) like a stubborn child. I didn’t talk, I didn’t get involved in the conversation and ask about the middlest’s physics exams (which I forgot had been on that day). Hubby on the other hand was attentive and talkative with the boys, unusually so.

When we got home it was a battle of the chips (fries). The middlest criticises how I only fry my chips (three times mind) whereas he par-boils his (for the crispy (or not) outside) so I abdicated from my cooking role and then told hubby I didn’t want to eat dinner and for him not to cook for me.

I wasn’t hungry really anyway but as I reflected a bit I thought how we would resolve this spat of ours and ‘dammit, why can’t he apologise?!’ I mean it has to be his fault again after all, No? Yep, sounding a bit childish to me.

Thinking we had an orthodontist appointment today I was up extra early to only find out that we were a month early. Either way our daughter had to come into work with me if she wasn’t going to school today as we had an appointment for her to get acupuncture to try and break this headache she’s got.

I asked for a parking spot and didn’t get one where I normally go. Now we had a steep downhill walk (in heels) and the return uphill walk to look forward to. I’m sulking.

So I’m feeling fragile. Needing some loving but not getting it from a cruel world and my own petulance.

Need to give myself a kick in the pants!


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