... of the weekend that is. I can't complain so far, though in my head the whole weekend stretched ahead of me and I felt as though I was going to be walking through treacle. However, as always, the children are my saviours.
This morning my Small Sprog climbed sleepily up the stairs and lodged himself in my bed. We read stories and found and old Beano sticker book that he had hardly used. He set to work making his own comic strip with the sticker book characters, it kept him busy for what seemed like hours, first in my room and then sitting companionably on the bathroom floor while I was in the bath.
Tall Girl was, and has been since her birthday, engrossed in the audio Cd's of 'Twilight' which I bought her for her birthday. There are 11 Cds in the set and she has just reached the end. Being dyslexic, it would take her a tortuous couple of months to read the novel. She is spellbound by the story, as are all girls of her age it seems.
By the time we were all washed and dressed and ready for the day it was nearly noon! Husband had been downstairs all that time, well out of the way and unable to interfere. I love these leisurely mornings with my children. We were all happily doing our own thing, but together, if you now what I mean? There was no pressure to do anything or be anywhere, and for once, Husband was not making us go down for breakfast at a time when only he wanted to eat.
It was later, as I was washing up our late breakfast early lunch type meal, that I caught sight of Small Sprog proudly showing his dad his homemade comic strips. Husband had totally taken over the project and was doing one himself, while Small Sprog watched. I felt angry that he didn't have the respect to watch and encourage Small Sprog without interfering and trying to 'improve' him or tell him what to do. I kept my council.
By 3.30 we were at our party. It was fun and predictable, 12 years and always the same people and format, though the children are somewhat bigger now and the older ones initially more awkward! The predictability and company of close friends made the whole afternoon and evening fly by in such a comfortable way, we all know each other so well. There was, and always is, far too much food, but the mulled wine was just about perfect!
Husband did not come in the end. I was very relieved but as we left him behind in the house, I felt a small stab of pity for him. How would I have felt in his shoes? We had always gone before as a family. But the pity didn't last long, as I remembered just how bad things have been recently. Is that bad?
My Domestic Goddess friend, who was at the party and always makes the cake, commented on husbands behaviour when she dropped her children off to me recently. She commented on how cold and harsh he was, and how even to her, he was abrupt and off hand.
I was glad she had noticed. Sometimes I think I am going mad.
More time with friends tomorrow. I am thankful.