Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Sunday, 29 January 2012

Full time parenting Pt1

Did you know that all 'stressed parents' are women.  I found
that to be an interesting point of my search for images.
So, this weekend has been a bit different.  Tilly was working on various things Saturday morning then went out for lunch with a friend.  Meant I looked after both of our children from waking up until about 4pm.  I'm not complaining, it was taxing but rewarding, but I was interested to note that when she returned Tilly behaved exactly as I do when I get in from work.  Now, she claims that she has been making an effort recently not to get at me about how I behave, but I confess that I hadn't noticed and only really remember negative things anyway, she's been badgering me about my attitude recently enough that I could make the link anyway.

Apart from the fact that our woods are
mainly deciduous, this is what it looked
like when we all went out.
Later that evening, well, okay between 3 and 4pm, I took the children out for a walk in the woods near where we live, the ones that serve as the principal model for my safe place.  It was good.  I missed walking in them and was delighted to get out and see them in the winter.  It was much muddier than I had expected and there were others out there walking, which was a surprise, but it was still nice to go out there again.  It reminded me of the one time I've been out in heels and how much it had been, which may or may not have been a good thing overall.

I felt like this, if only I looked like it too.
Today was much the same.  I ended up looking after our daughter during the night, she got up and started crying for me, and then took over looking after them both in the morning as Tilly had failed to sleep at all during the night.  She has a habit of working once our son is asleep and then refusing to sleep until he wakes up, on the grounds that she will be more annoyed to be woken than to stay up.  This often means she doesn't even attempt sleep until gone 1am.  After that she takes about two hours to drift off, which, coincidentally is exactly how long our son sleeps at the moment between needing comforting due to teething issues.  In effect, Tilly gets no sleep and is zombie-fied in the mornings.  And irritable.  So, yes, looking after both of our children until about 9am, then a shower and Tilly took them out to give me time to work.  She then left with the friend to go shopping for an event she's putting on, leaving me with children from about 10.15am to about 3.30pm.  Then she cooked and got increasingly frustrated with them both until I took them out for a walk in the woods between 4.30pm and 5.30pm, trying to give Tilly time to have a bath.  I looked after them indoors between 5.30pm and 6.10pm while Tilly 'finished' her bath.  She then decided to tidy everything up, clothes and the like, leaving me with them both until about 7pm.

Again, I'm not complaining too much, I've spent a whole weekend with my children and this is good, but I am complaining that it was not planned that way and I still have work in the morning.

I don't think I'll ever manage this much enjoyment in a shower
without the concurrent feeling that I'm a selfish, lazy twat.
Or a bitch.  My inner-critic is experimenting with female terms
of abuse.
As for mindfulness...  Feelings before having a shower range from emotionlessness to stress and irritation (neither actually connected to anything, they are just the way I am).  During the shower I get increasingly frustrated at my selfishness for spending so long in there (no, seriously, I can be twenty minutes) and my complete inability to get out.  Afterwards I feel like a lazy, selfish idiot who still has a full day of shit to be getting on with and probably won't do terribly well at any of it.  The background stress of fearing for my job won't go away after the start I had with a new boss and it peaks every now and again.  I know it has little to do with my job though, it is just how I am.

Still like this image, still seems like my safe place.
I also haven't managed to visit my safe place.  I feel like I'm forcing it, and forcing it makes it awful.  The first few times were brilliant.  I left feeling happier and stuff, and I want that back.  Now it feels like I'm ruining it and the longer I try and fail the more I'm going to mess it all up so that it becomes another thing to beat myself with.  It's like reading a book that's really good but then forcing yourself to read it one time and ruining the experience.  When that happens you have to wait a while before going back to allow yourself to fall in love with it again.  It doesn't seem to be working with my safe place.  Tilly pointed out my aversion to good feelings and suggested that I was so completely messed up that I even sabotage my own psyche.  I think she has a point.

And people wonder why I say I hate being me.

I mean, oh yes.
Oh, and I was saving for some feminine treats but I managed to spend £6.50 on bloody olives on Saturday due to being too bloody polite and having two children to keep under control, preventing me from realising what the stallholder was doing until it was too late.  I then spent my remaining £3.50 on what I went there for, about what I expected to pay in total.  So much for that plan.  Due to Tilly's lack of sleep I also spent £11 on take out on Friday and we had a big pizza meal on Thursday, our weekly take out, costing the usual £13.50.  All of this means I can't really justify the £25 for a pair of boots, no matter how much I want them, nor the £10 for a nightgown.

Finally, I messed up driving home on Friday and managed to destroy my rear wheel by bouncing in a pot-hole.  I'm on a cruddy spare and will have to fork out about £80, I think, for a new one.  Even less reason to justify my treats.  Did I mention we managed to spend about £900 on the credit card this last month with a budget of £700?

My life is ridiculous.

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!