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!

Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Full time parenting Pt2

I could subtitle this as Why I shouldn't have children.

Okay, looks nothing like Tilly.  However, the idea
of a suit making a woman feel more powerful and
confident is the closest I could get to showing
Tilly's drive and determination.  Tilly does wear
glasses and is a brunette however.
Basically, Tilly was busy with shedloads of stuff this last weekend, she was out most of the Saturday with her magazine project and trying to sort various things.  Also, we went shopping for the chinchilla.  All this meant that I pretty much spent the day looking after one or both of our children.  This was fine, but I had recklessly taken the Friday night off working, meaning that I too had a shedload of stuff to be getting on with.  Alas, come the evening of Saturday (ill children meant that we were helping them sleep until 8pm) I was too shattered to actually make a decent stab at doing anything.  So I didn't.

Sunday, and Tilly is off training for a potential job thing to bring in enough money for her to learn to drive.  If she can drive she can then use the money from this job thing to pay insurance and fuel and maintenance for her car which she will use for basic transportation.  It will also allow her to branch out of her work in running a parenting group and parenting magazine into being a doula.  This will allow her to get involved in birth training and helping other women have the kind of births that they actually want to have, increasing the good vibes all round and giving her another income stream which will then add about £1-2K per year to our moving fund.  It all sounds rather complicated now that I write that out, but Tilly is one of those people who is not only goal-driven but can actually make things happen!

Yes, except no smiling on the face.  Terror mainly.
This meant that I was left looking after our brood from about 9am to about 4.30pm.  Now, this isn't usually a major problem.  However, I woke up that morning with the last vestiges of a nightmare about work bouncing around in my head, so stressed by it that I actually greeted Tilly not with a "good morning" but a violent spurt of verbiage about shopping, deadlines, things going wrong and general worry.  Then there was the lack of sleep due to aforementioned nightmare.  And the worry about my work stuff that I hadn't done, and was part of the nightmare, and the fact that the kitchen was a mess and the fact that it had snowed and not cleared the previous day and the fact that both children hadn't slept well and the fact that the sofa had been particularly uncomfortable that night.  I can make any excuses I like, I think the fact was that I wasn't really happy with the idea of looking after both children on my own and resented the fact that I couldn't get my work done.

My temper is very much like this.  Destructive, powerfully
so, and then lingers for thousands of years afterwards.
The day did not start well.  I yelled at my daughter in my best teacher impersonation within ten minutes of Tilly leaving the house, causing my daughter to whimper for a good half hour or more and generally behave like a whipped puppy.  Which, I guess, she was.  Then I let myself get all stressed out and riled up by my son keep taking his gloves off as we prepared to go and play in the snow to the point where I stopped behaving entirely rationally.  In the snow I couldn't unwind enough to play, so neither did my children.  My son because he didn't really understand the snow and my daughter because she was so frightened of my mood that she didn't know how to respond.  We tried for a walk to the park but we turned back due to the fact that my daughter's feet were cold.  Basically, I was shit.  I ruined a snow-filled day by being unrationally angry and stressed out.

He looked like this when I was done, but more plaintive
and incomprehending that the man he trusted with his
life would shout at him with that expression.
Needless to say, being cooped up indoors did nothing to improve anyone's mood.  Within a few hours I had exhausted the use of the TV as a safety valve, eaten lunch and still not got any less stressed.  The boy had slept for a bit and the girl had watched Pet Shop Boys until the TV had given her a little girl headache and made her grouchy and scared of her Daddy.  She eventually became unable to play with either me or her brother and I let her grouch off to her room, which was bad parenting too as I wasn't really interacting, I was just barely holding back my own parents' style of frustration.  And I knew I was doing it.  I was being unnecessarily sarcastic, acerbic and downright mean to both of them at virtually every opportunity.  I was not enjoying anything and selfishly allowing that to show in everything we did.  When the boy ripped a box I went completely mad and yelled at him to the point where he still can't bear to be in the same room as me or anywhere where we are alone.  I'm that much of a crap Dad.  I am, in fact, my father.  He would do the same low down and dirty form of warfare.  He would be perfectly charming and reasonable with other adults around but, quietly, he would hiss threats to me and, in private, would transform into a towering monster with eyes of flame and a voice that scared me half to death.  He would roar his disapproval and I would never see it coming.  And I craved his approval.  Still do.  But I feared him.  I still fear his disappointment.  And now I've done that to my boy and my girl.  Any good that I've done over the last year or so has been vaporised by that one shining moment, well day, of terror for them at my hands.

I'm not doing terribly well at positivity lately...

Eh, it may work at balancing the negativity of this post,
it may not.  Like her hair though.

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