you wonder why you bothered getting out of bed? That was what yesterday was, especially when the house was once again turned into something reminiscent of a world war. What caused it this time? well you will probably be rolling on the floor laughing at this - the sandwich toaster!
Nan started a massive row because we were making dinner (toasted sandwiches) at wait for it 6:50pm. When I stupidly responded that she hadn't even done Conor's dinner yet (he stayed again last night) all hell broke loose. She dragged up stuff that was completely irrelevant, and ranted and raved about the mess she had to clean up. Firstly the "mess" was two plates, and she's the one that wont let us do the washing up or anything else for that matter in "her" kitchen. Secondly the sandwich toaster lives in our room because she doesn't like it on the side, so we could have dragged the butter, cheese and bread up here and made them but that would have been wrong as well. According to her dinner should be finished with by 6pm but the problem with that is simple eating that early when you go to bed as late as we do inevitably means we are hungry again later which leads to making a sandwich and winding her up again it wouldn't be so bad if we were able to cook a meal at 6pm but we aren't allowed to cook, we basically live off sandwiches, junk that gets cooked in the oven and junk that gets cooked in the microwave and whatever crap we keep upstairs, think crisps,biscuits,chocolate all the stuff that makes you feel shit. As if that wasn't bad enough she even moans about us buying certain ready meals (for that read almost all of them) because she doesn't like the smell or various other reasons. See I am in the unfortunate position of being piggy in the middle all the time. I lost my family when I married Mark, my mum doesn't speak to me, neither do any of my brothers and sisters, my dad doesn't bother, and there aren't many other family members we had anything to do with anyway, so basically all I am left with is Lisa, Conor, Ella and Nan. If I walked away from Mark tomorrow, I would still be in the same position. On the other hand I lost my freedom being here, I feel like I am constantly walking on eggshells, I have to watch everything I say or do, if I walked away from Nan I would be left with no family at all, a husband that I fight with all the time and a huge amount of guilt. When I was at Marks I was constantly made to feel guilty that Nan was in the house on her own, at that point she had my mum and Lisa she could call if she needed anything doing like changing a light bulb etc. Now she only has Lisa who really cant be bothered to do anything for her, leaves the kids here constantly and is generally more trouble than she's worth. So as you can see I cant win, I can't move out and I can't run because there's nowhere to go. I try and minimise the issues by staying in my room as much as possible. But the problems arise there because when I am in the room with Mark all the time he gets on my nerves. My biggest problem comes from the fact that I often feel too ill to sort out the problems between them, the screaming, shouting and general bitching makes things worse. I can't ever see how it will improve, because of me being ill when Mark goes back to work the only viable option for financial and also practical reasons (so he can take Lukas to school) is for him to work nights. That will of course spark a whole new set of arguments from Nan, because as far as she's concerned Mark should doing stuff because "he's a man!" but if he's working at night and sleeping in the day its not going to get done. Before anyone suggests this No I can't just do the stuff he "should" be doing because that causes an even bigger row because it's "his place" to do them. Also knowing Mark like I do he still wont do them when he has a day off, he's been off for months now and they haven't been done without rows after rows after rows about them. *sigh*
Lukas is watching Dora the Explorer (it's half term this week) so I am going to try some scrapping. back later xx
1 comment:
Post a Comment