Would the real Mrs M please stand up? Part 7

Refresh yourselves with this if you need to.

Have you ever seen the Young Guns films?

Yoohoo! I'll make you famous!

Stick with me, this is relevant. I love these films and much more I love Emilio Estevez (sp??)

I started a new job on 4th October 1999. I started at 09.00hrs and by 09.30hrs I had met Mr M. I walked onto that ward and there he was, my very own Emilio. I was hooked, he was married.

I had been married for just over two years and I had tried hard to make my marriage work. The more I tried, the less I achieved. Mr H chose to follow a different path than the one I wanted to walk on. He wanted to start a family, he wanted me to give up work, he wanted me to love, honour and obey him.

I just wanted to be loved.

We took several holidays to try to work things out, but seriously how do you stop a drinker from drinking when he doesn't want to stop. How do you change someone that doesn't think they need to change. How do you find the strength to walk away when you have no confidence and your last ounce of self esteem has been knocked from you?

I grew to love my new job and I got to know Mr M. He was my friend - no more - just friends. He was married and had two baby boys. His wife was tall, blonde and gorgeous. How could I compete?
In all honesty though I had no intention of competing. He was married, out of bounds, spoken for. I never once told Mr M that I liked him and I don't think I ever behaved in a way that would have let on either.
I spent the next 9 months focusing on my job and saving like mad. For every £ that Mr H spent on alcohol, I saved into an online account. By July 2000 I had saved quite a few thousand and my marriage was as bad as it had ever been. I was at rock bottom and had accepted that this was to be my life - there would be no way out.

Until I turned up for the 1st day of a two week violence and aggression course and guess who was there?

I spent two weeks rolling around on mats with Mr M (very nice), but more importantly I spent two weeks learning about myself. I was strong, both physically and mentally. I could handle the toughest of work situations, much better than many people. On the last day of the course I made a decision.
Driving home I changed my mind so many times, could I - couldn't I? Should I - shouldn't I?

I arrived home at the same time as Mr H returned from the pub. He asked what was for tea & my reply was.......

...... I don't know, I'm leaving you!

Here comes the rain

Today marked the start of British Summer Time - let the rain begin!

Seriously though, today has been the most gorgeous of days. This was the view from my window this afternoon and I hope it will look like ths for many months to come (ok, a girl can have dreams...)

Papillon

We have had 3 of these in our laundry room all winter

I wanted to knock them off, but Mr M would never have forgiven me if I had!

I am so glad that I left them alone as on Wednesday the girls and watched the first one hatch.

Here's the first picture of our newest family member:

The girls were mesmerised the whole time, they both sat there watching for well over an hour! Lola was most upset when I took it to the window to let it fly outside - she thought we were going to keep it in the hutch with the guinea pigs!

I too had a lump in my throat when I let it go.

However, having a 3 year old and an 18 month old demanding we spend the next six hours camped out in the laundry waiting for the other two to hatch has taken the shine off this moment somewhat!

I came clean...

well, almost!

I felt really bad yesterday about what I'd done and turned it on myself - how would I feel if she were to do that to me (she probably has, soo many times!!). But being the better woman that I am I decided to come clean.

I told Charlie that his mum had text, but that as I'd picked the phone up to take it out to him, I'd somehow managed to delete the message - ok, don't be too hard on me, that's almost what happened!

I suggested he text her and explain that the message had been deleted before he'd had chance tp read it and ask her to re-send it. She did and this was his reply:-

'Mum - you said thankyou yesterday for your card and flowers, why did you have to send this text when we are at Dad's and Mrs M's?' Needless to say he has heard nothing from her since.


He then turned to me, read out the text she'd sent (which I'd obviously not read the previous day) and stated 'I think that was for your benefit Mrs M!'

I love that boy to bits - he is so switched on to Cruella's little games!

I also got a lovely card from the boys and some chocolates. Woody was so pleased with himself as he'd made me a card at school announcing 'I had to work twice a quick as everyone else Mrs M, I had two cards to make!'

That's my boys!

Long story short.....

We've always bought Cruella a Mothers day card and gift with the boys, until Randall complained that we didn't spend enough on her gift last year. So this year we've left it up to him to do.

Also in the past when Mothers Day has fallen on 'our' Sunday, we've always given Cruella the option of keeping the boys until after Lunch on Sunday (instead of us picking them up on the Saturday).This year I asked the boys what they wanted to do & they said they wanted to come here on the Saturday as normal!
So today I picked them up at 1pm and when I asked what they had been doing they said 'We had to go and get some flowers and a card for mum from the Spar shop'. (Classy!!)

We no sooner get home than Charlie gets a txt message from Cruella. Now all the kids were out the back when the message came through and when I saw the 'Text message from mum' I just couldn't resist.
My hands were taken over by this urge to read the message, I had no control over them - honest!
So Cruella was texting to say 'Thankyou for the lovely and unusual flowers, they must have been so expensive - arent I lucky to have two wonderful boys who love me, their mum, so much'

Expensive and unusual - from the Spar shop, really?
Boys who love you so very much? hhmmm, that's why they wanted to come here and not spend mothers day with you then?

So after vomiting and then laughing so much I nearly pee'd myself, I had no option but to delete the message.
Now, I know I shouldn't have read the message and I know I shouldn't have deleted it - but do I feel bad?
Not freaking likely!

I pray for clarity

Sometimes I find it really hard to see things with any clarity - you know the 'can't see the woods for the trees' type scenario?
These past couple of weeks have been pretty tough and I have had a huge wake-up call. I had no idea that I was on such a destructive path, that I was so consumed with fear, guilt and anxiety - I wonder how I managed to function for so long.

I managed - no more, no less.

So now my life is in turmoil, I've accepted that I need help and that things are going to have to change around here. I now have to work out how!

Being a healthcare professional you would think that I would be extremely compassionate and understanding of mental health issues?
Wrong!
I am so dismissive of people who have 'trouble coping' or who have 'low mood' or who 'get anxious'. I mock and I judge - my usual piece of advice comes with a huge 'Get A Grip' banner. So imagine my horror when my Dr informed me I have acute Anxiety, with diffused associated depression - WTF??

I have a rational fear of being ill (like last summer), and when I recognise the symptoms, that my risk factors have increased due to work or home stress - I get into a state of anxiety. Rational thinking and common sense go out of the window, sleep becomes a distant memory and I turn into a miserable git.

No fun here because I might (one day) get ill again - see, no logic!

Last week I started night sedation to try to get some unbroken sleep - Mr M can not understand my need for this as he points out 'you are always asleep when I wake up during the night'. What he doesn't get is that I am in bed, trying not to solve the 'yet to occur' problems, trying not to have the 'might happen one day' conversations, trying to get back to freaking sleep! I can say that after two nights of unbroken and restful sleep I can see just how little sleep I have been getting and there is no wonder I look like shit most of the time.
Last week I also started anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication> I'll let you know when they start to kick-in.

I'm hopeful that alongside the counselling (I had session 2 on Tuesday and it wen't ok), the medication will help.

Hopefully within a few weeks things will start to look clearer again, I might start to function as a mum, wife, friend, nurse. I might actually start to enjoy my life again - who knows what a little bit of clarity might lead to?

New tactic needed

Cruella still can't tell the time. The boys arrived at 5pm today, after I'd driven at breakneck speed to get home for 4pm.

Did I ever mention just how much I hate that vile creature?

Mumbo Jumbo

Lord knows why, but I decided to have a Tarot reading. This lady does not know me at all and prior to the reading we had no verbal dialogue other than pleasant greetings - make of it what you will:-

Your first Card is The moon - which is a major Arcana Card and very important - Moonlight changes things like the apperance of the landscape and often changes colour of the background too. This card signifies you were not seeing something clearly.As this is the first card this refers to the recent past. I read that this means you could have been in a confusing situation.

Ace of Cups is the second card - I like this card infact its one of the best in the deck and it does not surprise me that in your present you have a requirement to move on. This card signifies new beginnings - could be a new relationship (not always linked to the heart) new activities/ new interests or the birth of a child. This card is a joyful card and also can be the sign of abundance. The Ace of cups features a cup running over and so can be linked to money and goods. This card is about your present.

Third card is the wheel of Fortune and is about your future - The wheel of fortune also a very positive card - this card is about stating life consists of change. Difficult situations will change, you will have periods of peace and prosperity. This card shows you have left a phase of your life and moved on. Also it is the card of fate and shows that fate has a hand in your life.

This is the most positive of readings all cards were the right way up and thus why such a possitive reading. I hope its of interest to you and you can draw from it. I am interested that 2 cards seem to linked with prosperity - Lets hope its a lotto win. Its a very positive reading you have two major arcana cards and also an Ace. I would suggest that currently Karma is with you and I wish you all the luck your future seems bright.

Any comments?

what in the world possessed her?

My mum and her friend - both well ino their 50's and both more than a few stone over weight have decided to embark on a healthy eating and exercise drive. So as Mum has two replacement knees, two rotator cuff shoulder repairs, osteoporosis, fibromyalgia (sp?) and arthritis - her excercise options are somewhat limited.

Yesterday morning they decided to go here:

But when they got there they saw this:

So in a moment of madness hired a pair of these:

Mum went like this:

Ended up in one of these:

And now has one of these:

Incredible words

In April, Maya Angelou was interviewed by Oprah on her 70+ birthday..
Oprah asked her what she thought of growing older, and, there on television, she said it was 'exciting'.
Regarding body changes, she said there were many, occurring every day...like her breasts. They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist, first.The audience laughed so hard they cried.
She is such a simple and honest woman, with so much wisdom in her words!
Maya Angelou said this:
'I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.'
'I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.'
'I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.'
'I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life'
'I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.'
'I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back..'
'I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.'
'I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.'
'I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.'
'I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.'
'I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.'

What, no couch?

Today was my first appointment and I was gutted there was no couch!

The session was a bit bizarre to say the least and I'm not really sure how I feel about it all. I talked about loads of stuff :- my job, the kids, Mr M. All pretty mundane things really. These are things that I don't need help with. Or so I thought!

So after today's session I realise that I actually hate my job to the point that it is making me ill, I resent my step-sons for the quality time that they prevent me from spending with Lola and Dora and I find Mr M to be very selfish and not supportive. F*ck - I've got problems!

I didn't make any reference to being Mrs H and to be honest I after the revelation that my life as it is now sucks, I don't know if being Mrs H really is the problem.

Perhaps the water will be a little less murky after a few more sessions? I go back next week .

Belly cast

For those ladies who are pregnant or trying to get pregnant (with you all the way Kami, Becky & Holly).
I decided that I wanted something to keep, something to remind me just how special my pregnancy with Lola was. I'm not particularly photogenic - usually look like I'm entering a gurning competition, need dental work or resuscitation! So having a photo gallery was out of the question! I decided to have a belly cast made, but freaked when I say the charges - many were upwards of £300. So being the thrifty Scotswoman I am, I decided to make my own. Here's the pictures:-

I decided to go for a bronzed finish, but I've seen some lovely casts painted with flowers, left white etc. If you are planning on doing one I would offer the following advice:-

Do not google plaster casting - think p*rn with plastered limbs.

Remember to lather yourself with Vaseline - the cast is not too easy to get off without it!

Don't leave it until you are 38 weeks and then try to do it yourself - try being a contortionist with a water melon or two strapped to your abdomen!

Don't even think about answering the door bell mid cast - not easy to explain why you are standing funny, have white stuff dripping down you legs and are holding your dressing gown 3 feet away from your body. The post lady still looks at me funny!

Chunky Monkey

I just had to share this picture of Lola as a baby - don't you just love those little fat rolls, calling out to be queezed don't you think?

Mask off - Act over!

So I thought I was being so very smart. Using this blog as a venting forum for all the problems I was facing with Cruella. It worked, my free therapy helped me to put things into perspective. It helped me to see what issues were worth fighting for and those that I could laugh off or ignore. Life got better, I put Cruella into the little box marked 'insignificant' and hey-ho I'm cured!
But then something changed.
I don't know what possessed me to write the 'Will the real Mrs M please stand up?' posts. I don't know why after all these years I decided to finally open up the box that had been sealed shut with superglue.
I didn't realise it would hurt so fucking much.

Being on bed rest (I say that tongue in cheek) I have had lots of time to think about being Mrs H. I have also had lots of time to cry about being Mrs H. It sucks. 9 years after leaving my first husband I've taken off my mask. I've given up on the act. I have started to accept that the years that I was Mrs H were totally shitty. I have accepted that I have kept this to myself for reasons I don't yet know, but I do know I didn't want to deal with this. I do now.

In some strange way I'm glad that I've found myself in this position and I thank you for your words of wisdom, encouragement and support. I know that writing the next chapters on here are not going to be enough, but I will write them. I have also made an appointment with a counsellor - my first session is Tuesday. I'll be leaving my mask at home.

Would the real Mrs M please stand up? Part 6

When my eldest sister got married (to an absolute arse hole - another post for another day), and it was just her and Dad sat at home waiting for the wedding car, Dad gave her an 'out'. He told her she didn't have to go through with the wedding, she could take her frock off, polish off the Vodka with Dad and leave everyone else to figure out what had happened. She chose to get married.

On the morning of my wedding I knew I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I had spent the entire week trying to work out what I could do to cancel, postpone, vanish.... I knew it would all be ok in the end though. I knew my Dad, my Hero, would make things ok. He would offer me the same 'out' as he had my sister. No reason required - just an 'out'. It never came.
We waited for the wedding car, just Dad and I. he told me how proud he was of me. He told me how much he & Mum adored Mr H - the son they had never had. I cried as he walked me down the aisle. I cried as I saw the faces of my family and friends. I cried when I saw the 4 friends who had stayed at our home on the night of the stag party.
Yet everyone else was so very happy.

I made my vows in front of God and in saying each and every word I made a commitment to make this marriage work, for better or worse. How bloody true those words were.

So there it happened, I became Mrs H.

I worked at being Mrs H for 3 years. The events of the evening of the Stag party were repeated many times - each time I convinced myself it would be the last. Gone was the selfish, naive and conceited young lady and in her place was me, Mrs H. Too proud and ashamed to admit what was happening.

Then I met Mr M.

Would the real Mrs M please stand up? part 5

I doesn't seem right leaving that last post without some sort of explaination.

I am not a victim in this in any way, shape or form so forgive me it it seems I am claiming to be. All of my life I have made my own choices, granted they have not always been the right ones, but I've lived by the choices that I've made. Whilst not a victim per say, I was young, naive, conceited and utterly, utterly deluded.

7 days before getting married I made the choice to carry on, to tell no-one, to act like it had never happened. Funnily enough, Mr M made the very same choice. IOt was never mentioned between us - ever. One horrendous incident was not going to spoil everything. We all do things we later live to regret and I honestly believed that the events of that night would never be repeated.

Would the real Mrs M please stand up? Part 4

Some people might say that I'm a bit anal about things. I like to think I'm organised.
Planning a huge wedding was a dream come true for me, I was able to indulge in lists, time lines and budgets. The little monster inside of me was able to pop up now and again and I could excuse it as wedding planning stress. People humoured me but to be honest I can say I must have been a nightmare to live and work with.

In the time it took me to plan my big day I fell in love with the idea of getting married and I fell out of love with the man I was marrying. As a couple we became more and more disjointed and towards our wedding day, getting married was the only thing we talked about. Apart from a huge circle of friends, we had nothing else in common. I put it all down to last minute jitters, but in my heart of hearts I knew we should not have been getting married.

I planned my own hen night (yes, I am so anal that I wouldn't let anyone else plan it) and Mr H planned his Stag party. I went for quiet and classy. He hired a whole pub and 3 private strippers - not quiet nor classy as I was to discover when he returned that night.

Mr H had never been stable mentally and at times people admitted to never knowing if he was joking or serious - I maintain to this day he was always deadly serious. Underneath the happy-go-lucky character that was/is Mr H lies something much darker, much more sinister. Something that had only appeared in fleeting moments prior to the night of his stag party.

Mr H and several friends returned from his stag party, the mood was eerily sedate. Whilst his friends were very intoxicated, Mr H appeared strangely sober. He was angry but trying not to show it. I made the mistake of asking about the evenings events. I made the mistake of ranting at him when his friends revealed there had been strippers at the party. I made the mistake of laughing at him when his friends revealed some of the details of the evening - as the 'stag' the strippers had teased and ridiculed Mr H in front of all of his friends, that's why he was angry.

We argued and his friends went to bed, obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable with the sitaution.

I'd always thought of myself as being the dominant one in our relationship. I'd always seen myself as better than Mr M. I was the academic one, I was the one bringing in the money, paying the bills, buying nice clothes, holidays. I felt very secure in my position of matriarch and if I'm honest I'd used this to keep Mr H in his place, to control him. At the time I didn't see it like that, I just thought I deserved a bit of respect and that he should show some gratitude. Remember that I was naive and conceited.

When we argued I had no hesitation in pointing out all of this toMr H and his shortcoming.
I guess that night I over stepped the mark, pushed all the wrong buttons.
That night everything changed.

I learned that Mr H was not the man I thought he was, nor was I the strong and independent woman I thought I was.

I was beaten and violated in ways that no person should ever be. Everything that was me and mine was taken from me that night, those few hours destroyed everything sacred and precious. In my own home, with the man I was about to marry, with four of his friends upstairs.

In the morning nothing was said, by anyone - yet each and every one of us knew what had happened.
Life carried on.
I was getting married in 7 days.

Feeling very sorry for myself

Last summer I was diagnosed with Erythema Nodosum (sound like a Harry Potter spell don't you think?).

After 3 months of agonising pain I was given the correct treatment. I had a mild outbreak again in November, I started treatment right away and within a week the symptoms were gone.

I've felt quite low for a week or two - both mentally and physically - then on Tuesday it hit. My joints are burning and feel fused. My shins hurt like the worst shin splints ever, getting up in the morning is a battle. If it wasn't so painful it would be funny watching me trying to change Dora or fasten Lola's shoes - imagine baby Giraffe trying to stand up for the first time.......

So I'm back on the steroids and Zinc bandages (oh, the smell) and hope that they are effective.
I hate feeling like this.

Oh and I forgot to mention that I'm on total bed rest - I love a doctor with a sense of humour!

When the big hand

points to the twelve and the little hand points to the four - it's four o'clock. The time that you Cruella, should drop the boys off. Not 4.30pm, 5pm or even 5.30pm. It's 4pm!

So what part of this exactly don't you understand? The original order states 6pm, but you couldn't be bothered to feed the boys a cooked meal, so you concocted some story about having to take Randall's kids home and you didn't want to have to go out twice - they live around the corner from you for freaks sake!!

Anyway, being the decent and responsible parents that we are, we negotiated 4pm at your request. Every other week I cook our Sunday lunch at tea time and to be honest I'm sick of it being ruined waiting for you to get off your fat, lazy arse and bring the boys.

How about you try to get here at 4pm next week?

Would the real Mrs M please stand up? Part 3

Becoming Mrs H.

The last part of my previous post wasn't quite true - I didn't meet Mr H when I was 14. I met Mr H when I was 11, I became his girlfriend when I was 14.

Mr H loved school, just as much as I hated it. Where he failed, I excelled. He was loud, funny and popular, I wasn't. When he asked me to the youth club disco, I accepted.
Things hadn't been good at home, my parents were suffering from depression after my sisters had lied to them, stolen from them and their friends, refused all offers of help (this still makes me laugh. My parents had no money, yet they were prepared to take out a loan to pay for my sisters to go into a detox programme - which they refused) and ended up in prison.
My parents still functioned in the sense that they got up every morning, they went to work, they cooked meals. But they didn't seem interested in us as a family anymore. I guess they felt somehow responsible and vulnerable - perhaps they thought I would hurt them in the same way?

Anyway, given the situation at home and the fact that at 14 I still hadn't started puberty, was not pretty, did not have long blonde hair, did wear second hand clothes - I decided that Mr H (also 14) was a pretty good catch. The fact that he too was no oil painting (buck teeth and acne) and he didn't come from a rich family and was not the star of the school football team made him all the more appealing to me - I'd have no competition.

Funnily enough we were good together. Everyone loved Mr H and in time they loved me too. Don't get me wrong, we were never the golden couple, but In Mr H I had found a family again, his parents and sisters were amazing.
The years passed and I continued to be Mr H's Girlfriend. He left school at 16 - to become an apprentice milk man (if you knew him you would be laughing too). I continued with school, applied to university and was given an unconditional offer to study forensic science. I had ambition, I wanted a better future for myself than my parents had had - Mr H didn't. I had a choice to make and I made it. I left school 3 weeks before I was due to sit my A levels - My parents were devastated, I felt very grown up.

My first job was as an apprentice Butcher - I became vegetarian. I left the butchers and I became a carer. Mr H and I bought our first (and only) home when we were almost 19years old. We took a mortgage for £19K and committed to paying it back at £96 per month. He left his job the day we signed for our mortgage.


I applied to university to study Nursing and was accepted. I started the course a year later. Mr H still had no job, so I worked 4 jobs and studied on a full time course. Again, I made a conscious choice. I could have walked away, we could have managed without me working so much, but to be honest it suited me. I liked having a nice home, with brand new thing in - bought and paid for in full - I strove to reject everything about my childhood. I became a snob.
I only wore designer clothes, my shoes cost more than my dad earned in a week. We had 3 to 4 foreign holidays a year. I bought my food from Marks and Sparks and took greatest pleasure in rubbing my parents' nose in all of this at any given opportunity. You see I had made a choice - never to be like them. I didn't think that their lives and what they had achieved was worth anything, I only saw their failings. I now know that they had never failed, it was us, their children that they fought tooth and nail for, who failed them.

I wanted to do things right. I wanted a good job, a nice house, nice clothes, new car.... I wanted my parents to be proud of me, but more importantly I wanted them to envy everything I had achieved. Naive and conceited - not a good combination.

Mr H and I decided to get married - no big proposal, we just decided. Of course it would be the biggest affair our village had seen. I was 20yrs old and planning the biggest day of my life. There would be no expense spared. I didn't expect my parents to pay for my wedding - by this point they were paying for the huge debts racked up by my sisters - when they offered to pay 1/3 of the cost I let them, after adding a few extras. You can add selfish to my list of personality traits.

Not everything in the garden was rosy. Cracks had started to open up in my relationship with Mr H. He was a drinker and as he didn't have a job he had plenty of time to drink. Don't get me wrong, it kind of suited me this way. He had his life and I had mine. I was earning good money and as long as he had a few bob for a couple of pints he was happy. But with the drinking came the depression and the anger. As I was to discover on the night of his Stag party.

The colour Purple

Your Blog Should Be Purple

You're an expressive, offbeat blogger who tends to write about anything and everything. You tend to set blogging trends, and you're the most likely to write your own meme or survey. You are a bit distant though. Your blog is all about you - not what anyone else has to say.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?