Lil's father said when I told him I was having a bad day.
He couldn't come home and help me, because he works full time in a big office full of self-important dickheads. His job is far too important and he cannot just leave. He is the one who pays for the clothes I'm sitting in (which are actually falling apart), he pays for the coffee I'm drinking and the food that sits uneaten in the fridge. He pays the for central heating that shouldn't really be on because it pisses him off that I have it on quite a bit (it's fucking minus 3 out). He cannot hear the desperation in his wife's voice, he cannot leave early. He makes the money, he is breadwinner and he bangs his chest. Anyway, he said, he will go in late tomorrow to give me some time back. What a guy!
I'm being negative aren't I? And quite harsh and nasty. Well do you know what? I don't fucking care. I'm having a bad day and I'm getting zero support from the man who wanted a child. That's not fair, I hear him whine. Ah so that's where Lil got her whining from. It all makes sense now.
Do any of you lot ever have days like this? Oh of course you do. You have vaginas, baby daddies and kids. I feel unappreciated. I feel like a robot. MAKE BREAKFAST GET DRESSED ENTERTAIN CHILD DO THE WASHING IRON CLOTHES CLEAN HOUSE HOOVER ENTERTAIN CHILD LUST AFTER CLOTHES YOU CANNOT HAVE CLEAN TIDY ENTERTAIN CHILD TIDY MAKE LUNCH MAKE DINNER SERVE CHILD AND HER FATHER I AM A MOTHER FUCKING ROBOT. Ohhhhhhhhh MATE.
What the fuck do we have to do to feel like we are ACTUAL human beings who deserve care and attention and pretty things? Somebody please tell me. I'm sick to the teeth of feeling like a servant and then when I moan about it... 'I don't ask you to do my washing and ironing...' Babe, say that again and see what happens. I dare you. Dare dare double dare. Go on.
I am grateful that I can stay home and look after Lil (most of the time) and thankful he suggested I do this degree and he'd continue to 'provide for me'. I really am. I have zero income, I don't get paid to do my job (because let's face it, being a mother is a job a lot of the time) although men think them 'providing' for us is our salary. NEWSFLASH: it ain't.
So I find myself in a not very nice predicament. I'm sick of having no money, of having a wardrobe that is three quarters empty. I don't need to do this degree, it's a luxury - totally. Another luxury I am grateful for. But I want to feel alive again, not feel like a piece of machinery HAVE A SHOWER CLEAN THE KITCHEN PUT CHILD TO BED TIDY IRON. As much as it would be amazing to study again, study something I adore... a large part of me thinks going back to work and having some dollar in my pocket may save my sanity. Because as much as 'money isn't everything', it sure as hell makes you feel good when you can stroll in to a shop and buy that dress you like without your husband huffing and puffing, because it's your money you worked hard for.
I'm selfish, I know. But I'm only (a robotic) human.