it all started with a car

two weeks ago Muffin rang me and asked me if i would be willing to make a toy.

i hadn't been challenged in a while, so i decided to bite.

the bite came in the shape of a car. he asked me if i would make a blue car with red racing stripes for his son. i obliged, immediately invisioning how i was going to create the most perfect, woolen piece of machinery ever for his little boy. a stuffed-car that would blow his mind and make him remember forever the day that his dad had a toy made specially for him because he loved him and wanted to make a positive change towards his father-type role.

after many days of work and a lot of procrastination, i finished it last night. the general aim was to finish it whilst Muffin was here so's he could give it to Ryu himself, but things came up and i couldn't, so i told him i'd hand-deliver it before i came home.

today was the day. i rolled-over in bed this morning and stared at the car and imagined the tiny version of Muffin holding it and loving it. i imagined how the scene would play out when i delievered it to him. i wondered if i should just drop it off, ring the doorbell and run, so i wouldn't have to see him and be faced with seeing Muffin's son all by myself. i wondered how he would react to me and how his grandmother (his full-time carer, more-or-less) would react to me. i worked myself up into a little frenzy before finally rising from bed for a lunchtime playdate with Emma and her little man.

Emma and i met years ago. we met in Spanish back in like, seventh grade. we never talked THAT much and then, suddenly, after i left for england, we started emailing and talking LOADS. i hadn't ever met her son and was excited to meet the little ball of almost-three-year-old energy as i sat and awaited their arrival at the local Shari's.

they arrived and he was immediately excited, shouting my name and showing me things. instantly, i decided i would go and give the car to Ryu in person. that no child could be so intimidating that i couldn't simply go, toss a stuffed toy at him, and leave in a massive emotional frenzy.

the playdate ensued with a great deal of hilarity and fun and afterwards i made my way home to photograph the car and begin the walk to Ryu's house.

i walked and wondered if i was making the right decision. i have been very emotionally fraught the last several days and i worried that seeing this little carbon-copy of Muffin would send me over the edge.

my ipod soothed me with Andrew Jackson Jihad and Billy Ocean until i made it to the park. i tossed through my memory the photos that Muffin had taken at that very same park with Ryu a mere ten days earlier. my mind was caught up as i passed one of the many jungle-gyms housed in the park where i saw a woman i was CERTAIN was Ryu's grandmother. i didn't want to say anything until i was positive though, so i walked to their house, knocked on the door to find no response and walked back to the park.

it seemed she knew who i was before i said anything, as she walked up to me and said hello. i approached them and was suddenly stopped in my tracks when i realized i was within reaching-distance of Muffin's child. one of the three little people he had made without first discussing it with me. i was there, in broad daylight, with no way to cope with the new set of emotions my mind was creating. i was there, with nothing but a car in my handbag and a pink zebra-print cardigan on. i approached them with absolutely no idea what i would say or do. i went blindly into that foreign territory with what felt like a crumbly spine and an ocean's worth of water on the palms of my hands.

i introduced myself and pulled the car out of my bag and Ryu immediately hopped off the jungle bars and snatched it from me, telling me it was amazing and dancing around on the rocky playarea with his new car-friend. he then came up to me and asked if i wanted to come over to play...

again, i stopped. i had to catch my breath and realize that this was okay and that i could do this. i could spend time with this little boy. he's not a threat, he's not evil, he's just an innocent kid who wanted to play. i looked at his grandmother and she said i was more than welcome to come over. i tried to imagine all the things that could go wrong if i went over and couldn't come up with one so i took a deep breath and said, 'okay.'

we walked and he told me about his day at school and asked me what my name was. i told him it was Danie and he said it was pretty before going off on another tangent. as we walked i spoke to his grandmother about his education. we talked about what school he goes to and she began to tell me many details about his educational upbringing that i hadn't expected her to be candid about.

we arrived at the house and INSTANTLY he had to show me everything, everywhere. he introduced me to his cat, Juice Box (ps. best name EVER for a cat, or what?), showed me his halloween costume (he's going to be a zombie, which immediately prompted me to have a little "zombiegasm" right there in front of that child), pointed out his piggy bank and then took me to the lounge where he pulled out ALL the bones designated for Halloween decorating from their plastic Tupperware home.

he continued showing me things and posing for photos as i talked with his grandmother about England and his upbringing and their cat.

THEN it was five'o'clock and Ryu wanted me to help him water the garden. not his grandmother. me. he took my hand and dragged me outside to show me his bicycle and the hose. he watered and wouldn't let his grandmother help with anything. anytime he needed help, he asked me for it.

the rest of the hour-and-a-half was a flurry of "look at this!" and "hey, come help me with this!" before he settled on asking me if i was his dad's girlfriend and telling me he loved me.

now. i really had no idea what to do with this information. this child comes into my life and suddenly he loves me? i know children are quite rash with their decision-making and i also know that he most likely didn't love me for realsies, but this, my boyfriend's son, telling me he loved me. it made my heart go KABOOM and my head say to me that this was going to be okay. all of this, the kids, the divorce, the visit to america, it is all going to be okay.

as i was preparing to leave he stole my camera from me and took photos of Juice Box, Godzilla, his grandmother and me before saying he wanted to come visit and asking me when he would see me again. i promised i'd stop by again on monday after printing out some of the photos for him.

i walked away after shaking his hand and felt okay. i felt a massive weight off my shoulders about the whole thing.

i texted Muffin to notify him that i had spent the last hour-and-a-half with his son, deliberately being cryptic so as to manipulate him into a phone call, a trap he fell in STRAIGHT away. i told him about the playdate and about the conversations i had with Ryu's grandmother before he had to go for workies-related things.

i arrived home and texted him to say that i love him and that i love his son.

he wept.

the end.

p.s. please see photos from playdate with Ryu.

me and the trapped crickets, we don't trust you

it happens at least once a day... my mind decides to freak the FUCK out and stop trusting him for like, two minutes.

i'll be fine, sitting around, leading a normal life, existing with relatively sane mental-processes when my brain will suddenly over-analyze something ridiculous and i will immdiately develop a distrust for Muffin and the things he does.

i remember, prior to my leaving England and prior to Pow and Amy's breakup, i used to scold Pow constantly for his paranoid ideations. i know that whilst this isn't QUITE the same (as his went far and beyond what could be considered sane), and whilst mine have actually turned out true once or three times, i still, every time, hate myself a little for not putting everything into him and doubting him, even for those two minutes a day.

i occasionally find myself terrified of loving him completely. i'll watch him and things will pop into my head and remind me of all the emotions i went through when he broke my heart in the past... i remember how i promised myself i'd never trust him again.

they are unreasonable, my ideations, and i am aware of this. just one night after i left for Cheyenne, i had a freak-out that made me stop and actually have to scold myself for being so silly.

he had told me that Origami was coming over to pick some stuff up and about twenty minutes after she was due to arrive he sent me a photo of himself in bed, telling me how much he missed me and showing me a "view from danie's side of the bed." instantly, my brain said to me, "Wait, Origami wouldn't be gone by now, i bet she's convinced him to sleep with her and he had her take that photo so he could make you believe he was going to bed when REALLY he's sleeping with her and didn't want to arouse suspicion." the freakout was only heightened when he wouldn't respond to my texts and i didn't hear from him for over an hour. he calmed me and my mind was settled for the time, but i still hate that i find myself having these little distrust episodes so often.

it occurred to me late at night, the saturday before last... i was laid in my step-neice's old bedroom listening to the songs of the crickets that had gotten themselves trapped in the window-well. the movements of their wings creating their songs drew me through my thought processes... the processes that made me worry that there might be something broken in me that won't allow me to trust Muffin, that i might be forever doomed to live a life like Pow, filled with distrust, scepticism and paranoia. for two hours i laid in that bed with a sleeping child next to me (Paige, neice), worrying that my incessant concerns would drive Muffin away and ruin this thing that we have that i hold so, SO special.

i worried but... i don't know. i still worry, but the moments of worrying are but a few minutes in a day full of perpetual reassurance and love.

i worried, but i know that the things i worry about aren't completely without just cause. it's an awful thing to say, but i would find myself feeling more crazy were i to be worrying so much if we had no history. instead, we HAVE had a history, and a rocky one at that, and that fact makes me feel like, whilst still quite unfair to him, i am processing things. not living in a world of fantasy, but living in reality and contemplating things with a clear (although sometimes irrational) head.

i guess with my time away from him i have been given time to reflect on a relationship that has been "real" for the last four weeks. real in that i have been here and we have been living together, on the same continent, and existing as a real-life kinda-couple.

the time has been beautiful and better than i expected it would be. the time has made me more confident, more in love and more happy. the time has made me trust that Muffin is someone i COULD spend the rest of my forever with.

but as everyone knows, i love to over-think things... everything. and i have a LOT of time to do that currently, with LaDonna and Heyward at work all day and just sitting around a lot. the over-thinking leaves my brain a great deal of time to worry and paint very vivid pictures of things that could be happening in my absence. i know it's not fair on him, but i can't help it. with all the time that i have known him, i have only known things to result in my heart being broken, so i find myself worrying about the day that my brain is SURE will come, when he will do something REALLY stupid and mess all of this up.

i worry about when i go away because anytime i've gone away in the past, he's abandonded me or hurt me... when i went into the home he lost hope and joined the ARMY and had babies. when i went to the seaside for ten days he married Origami. they're two very excellent examples. obviously, i'm aware that it's unfair of me to think that he would have waited for me all the time i was in the home or kept his word in 2007, but i guess the scars from being burned are still there and i am reminded of them in times when i am in a similar situation.

i love The Muffin, and like i've said in countless blogs, i just worry and have a stupidly vivid imagination.

currently, today, Muffin is my life and i've no doubt that we'll be old and senile together one day, once i've crossed this hurdle and gotten my head out of this place that only causes tension and upset in a world that should only really be filled with kisses, cuddles and lovenotes.

the definition of Insanity

...is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.

at least that's what i've heard films, family and friends tell  me time and time again over the last almost-twenty-six years.

now, i'm not sitting here today saying that i'm going insane; what i'm saying is that i am now noticing a lot of similarities in my relationships. the similarities were first noticed saturday evening before last. Muffin and i were inhabiting the same space. i was cooking dinner, he was meant to be doing schoolwork... something he'd been promising that he'd start for two weeks. i had told him dins would take approximately an hour to make, so that offered him ample time to get at least one chapter done. due to the layout of our kitchen/dining/computer room, we are able to chat happily with one another without it resorting to just sounding like shouting, which is nice... but, unfortunately for Muffin, it also means that we can see what the other is doing on the computer at any given time, which resulted in me having to tell him to get off of the Book of Face and onto his schoolwork. he would say okay and open the page for his class and i will go about chopping misc vegetables for the bolognaise sauce i was making and then the cycle would just start all over again. the cycle repeated about seven times before he shouted at me to leave him alone, he KNEW what he needed to do.

the instant the words came out of his mouth i realized that i had been there before... maybe in a different house, country and with a different boy, but i had been there before and i didn't like that. i recalled all the times over the first two years of my time in England when i would be cooking and Christopher would refuse to do his schoolwork, but would instead opt to play computer games, read some random sci-fi book or strum one of his many guitars (which is ANOTHER similarity i will get to shortly). nearly 89% of THOSE prodding sessions resulted in him shouting at me to leave him alone.

at the end of all of the harassment, Christopher never finished his degree, the same as Muffin failed his last class. i worry that his current course will suffer the same fate if he is not careful.

obviously, i'm not retarded and i know that there were other contributing factors to Chris not finishing his course and to Muffin failing his last course, but still, it happened and all i ever wanted was for them to work on them and do the best that they could.

sometimes i am misguided with my prodding and i don't do it in the most tactful way, but the care and concern is still there and i wish that THAT could be seen and taken for what it is, a concerned girlfriend/wife who just wants what's best for the boys in her life.

the other similarity are the guitars. money, money, money. every single time Chris would get one of his student loans through he would go out and purchase a PA, guitar, amp or some other misc piece of musical something-or-other, and it seems Muffin does the exact same thing. he got a grant that would have proven incredibly helpful for our little lives here together, but he instead spent A LOT on a new guitar and a tattoo, but only after promising that he would be putting a lot of that money aside for us to live off of when i got here. now, all the money's gone and i am seeing a pattern... the pattern is in the shape of the like, seven guitars that are in Muffin's music room... VERY similar to the keyboard, guitars, PA system, amps, double bass and trombone in Chris's music room. nothing i can say will or would get through to them, so i don't bother, but it is BLOODY frustrating.

the similarities aren't all bad, they are both incredibly intelligent, funny and make me happy, which is important to note. i think it's just difficult for me now because i can see the similarities and the reasons Chris and i used to fight and i can see myself getting into a pattern with someone who does almost exactly the same things AGAIN and i have to stop and ask myself why i am doing this. why i seem to get myself into relationships that secure me in the position of "concerned onlooker" which is teamed with someone who is occasionally selfish, thoughtless and takes me for granted. it's not just significant others i do this with though... Chris, Dane, Pow, Janey... i do it all the time, become ensnared with people that i adore, but that need "fixing" and that's not healthy for me because none of them tend to be THAT receptive to it. i just end up frustrated and resentful.

i guess at the moment i am just wondering if i should worry about these similarities, if i should stay here and see how it all pans out; see how this story ends. or should i jump ship again to find a destiny for me, not someone else?

hrm.

worrying schmorrying....

I was sat at my desk last Wednesday morning, participating in a day that felt much less tense and ugly than the several that had preceded it. 

I was going through files, deciding what was fit for archiving and what I could send for destruction when Clarke glided into the room as she always does… she actually glides, with her amazing fashion, posture and smile. Since her recent birthday, which marked her half a century on the planet, she seems to have become even more beautiful than before… her general appearance sets her at approximately the same height as me, gives her perfect skin and a figure most teenagers would literally die for. She is astoundingly beautiful and I secretly hate her every time she comes within a ten-yard radius of me because I just know I will not be that stunning at fifty… there’s not even a tiny chance of that happening. 

Clarke stood behind me, fiddling with the grey stat-file cupboard and asked how many days it is now… I glanced at her in a nervous way and told her that it was thirty-six and pulled a face… a face that displayed pensive excitement. 

She said that I look like I’ve lost a lot of weight. 

I told her I had. 

Then she cocked her head to the right and asked if I’d been worrying. 

My bottom lip quivered. 

She asked how things have been with Muffin… I said they hadn’t been great. I outlined the roughdraft of that essay by discussing the lack of contact, the busy-ness and the fact that he seems to enjoy participating in leisure activities with his estranged spouse (going to gigs, meals out and generally hanging around). 

Now, I don’t want to sound unreasonable, as I KNOW he is living with her and I KNOW that some interaction is unavoidable, as I have been there myself with my own special version of “The Estranged,” but in my opinion, there are two problems with the situation… 

ONE: he lied to me about one hanging-out incident… he says he didn’t, but I am not stupid and I am capable of reading people, particularly when all I have to go off of are words and subtle reactions to things said. He was planning to go to a gig that I was fairly certain Origami was going to be attending as well (as she is a big fan of the band that was playing, likes to drink (and the gig’s general location was IN a drinking establishment) and likes to make things awkward)… I found it difficult to believe that he would be attending on his own so I quizzed him on who his musical companion would be to have him respond with a performance of this very strange monologue that involved a lot of pauses and “erm”s and “uhhh”s before saying he was going alone. It wasn’t until the next day that he told me that she “was going anyway and it was silly to waste the gas taking separate cars.” (Which, again, I completely understand, but don’t bloody lie to me.). I then proceeded to become aware of a photo on the Book of Face that featured him eating a giant burger at a restaurant… the photo was not dissimilar to one that was taken by a different female three years ago at a restaurant in Cheyenne… it’s existence caused me to hark back to THOSE fabulous memories for a short while, which was nice. It came to light soon after that Origami had taken that photo and they had gone to dinner together… how quaint. 

TWO: just after Christopher and I split up and Muffin and I started speaking again I would hear on a daily basis how he felt about me spending ANY time with Christopher ever… even if it was something so simple as Christopher coming in and cooking something whilst I was making a cup of tea. Muffin would tell me repeatedly that when he got back to america he would not spend even a single moment with Origami and why did I have to hang out with MY estranged? I don’t like the double standards that seem to have been set into place and when I confronted him with this he rebuttled with, “Yeah, but you still hang out with Chris.” I enquired as to what specific event he was referring to and he said, “Well, you still go to gigs together and stuff.” Right… let me tell you about the gig that I “went to” with Christopher that Muffin is referring to... I was working at the pub on a busy Saturday about two weeks ago. I hung out with Nick in the kitchen all night, looking fabulous and only emerging once to watch one single band. I stood against the hedge in the beer garden with Nick, Dave, Beth and Noele and danced my little heart out, attempting to burn off some of the calories from the three cheeseburgers with onions I had eaten whilst in the kitchen with Nick. I was acutely aware of the existence of my estranged husband to the far side of the garden but paid him no mind. After the final chord of the final song had been played I was making my way back to the kitchen to serve some more ravenous, drunk customers when Christopher cornered me and forced me to participate in a game called “Let’s Have The Most Strained, Uncomfortable Conversation EVER.” I played and feel like perhaps it ended in a draw after our discussions about his work, my leaving, job progression, hair styling, clothes shopping, fish, shoes and bosses. I then pranced back inside with my beautiful hair and tiny apron. And THAT is apparently a night out? Hrm. 

So those are my two reasons for feeling slightly unsettled… unreasonable? I don’t FEEL like they are…  I feel like I shouldn’t allow myself to become a part of some spectacularly hideous double-standard situation that ends up frustrating me until I murder him, because I WILL. I had enough double standards in my last relationship and I will not settle for anything but the best from now on. 

I am attempting to make all aspects of this relationship as perfect as possible… as perfect and as little like the shitstorm I was stuck in with Christopher as possible. 

One of the biggest parallels I am finding in the two relationships is the fact that I am participating in the school of thought where I am pushing goals further and further away. At the moment, I won’t lie, I’m not happy with the way our relationship is going. I feel like I put in a great deal more a lot of the time so as to make sure he has photos and videos and phone calls and emails from me. I make a conscious effort to make sure a new photo of my face reaches him in SOME way every single day so he can see me… feel as close to me as possible. With him, most days I can barely remember what his face looks like. I know it sounds dramatic, but it’s painfully true. I am so busy most days that I just don’t have the time to go onto the Book of Face to peruse his beautiful visage for hours… I don’t have time to search through my emails to find that ONE photo so I can familiarize myself with his face over and over again… It’d just be nice if he put a little more effort in. It just seems to get worse… he said it’d be better when he got back from Iraq and it’s not. He’s about to travel down to California to see Molly  for like two weeks and I will most likely not hear from him at all during that time and when I do they will be those ever-dreaded photos … of him and his daughter. 

I guess I just feel like so many thrilling things have been going on in my life in the last month that he has missed…  tattoos, weight loss, gigs, citizenship, haircolour changes, new clothes… I’ve offered him as many photos and endless stories as he can handle to fill him in, but I can’t help but wonder what things I have missed-out with him. How is he coping with life back in America? What’s he bought since he’s been back? How much weight has he lost? I just don’t know anything and worry that I am travelling to America, 9,000 miles, to live with what is more-or-less a stranger. 

Again, I know that’s a shockingly dramatic statement, but it feels so much like that. Like I just don’t know who he is and I’m just HOPING that when I get to America it’ll be okay… the problem with that is that I did that with Christopher. Prior to moving to England and starting my life with him here things were mildly horrific… we argued a lot and all I did was keep telling myself, morning, noon and night that it was going to be better when I got to England and we didn’t have to be apart anymore. I pinned all my hopes on the arguments stopping the instant I wrapped my tiny arms around his neck and kissed him again, so when this didn’t happen and when the arguments were just more heated because we had one-another’s facial expressions to scrutinize, I pushed the bar again, saying that things would be better once I was out of the house more and I had a steady job… 

again, no. once I got a job I was tired at the end of the day and he wanted sex and I didn’t and we just argued about THAT and why didn’t he do the dishes whilst I was a work all day and where’s the milk he promised he’d go buy? 

THEN my mum died and I said that I would be better once I had settled on medication and in therapy. 

THEN I lost my job and I said it’d be better once I had a permanent job. 

THEN… 

I think you can pretty much see where this is going, can’t you? It never ended and the cycles just resulted in our love’s demise. 

I don’t want the same thing to happen to myself and Muffin. I don’t want to feel like because right now I am saying that things’ll be better when I get there that our relationship will dissipate the same way my last one did… I want to make sure that I don’t fall into that cycle. 

I’m becoming very aware of the fact that I need to make ME happy… at the moment I need to live for things that will better my life and make me feel fulfilled. it depresses the hell out of him, but I am making sure that I remember that I DO have a return ticket booked and if things really do feel awful after I arrive, then I only have a three-month wait before I can return to the land of accents and cups of tea.  

I think for a week I was setting my mind into position of “defeated” before it had even begun though…  preparing myself for coming back on my return flight and wondering why I was even bothering going in the first place. I had played-out a scenario in my head that saw me stay here and live the fabulous single life for a while… being promiscuous, decadent and some other adjective I can’t even think of at the moment. For a week I had seriously considered calling it all off, so terrified of the possibility of it not working that I didn’t even want to bother because we would both just end up getting hurt anyways. I had lost the will to get excited when I heard his voice, forgotten how to say “I love you” and not sound bored… 

Anyways, back to Wednesday…  the day happened; I finished the workday and then the work week, which was an extra-special shade of short due to a tattoo session having been booked on Friday. Friday evening I talked at length with Graham about all of the above. He was the second person to have heard the entire story (the first being janey, doi). We talked it through whilst nursing pints of booze and he really helped me to clear my head. Post-serious-chat we discussed bands and lyrics and committed ourselves to a moviedate this Wednesday (“Inception” for danie again! yay!) and to make mega-mixes for one another (one of my favourite things to do like, EVER!). 

Since then, over the weekend, I am finding the weight noticeably lifted… I have been focusing on the more positive things… realizing that I shouldn’t expect things from my relationship, but rather be grateful for the things that I get…. The emails, photos, videos, phone calls. Despite their rarity, they are such beautiful little sparkly parts of my day... or maybe that’s because of their rarity? I love Muffin and really, honestly want to give this a go so I can see what kind of a perfect thing we can create together… some sort of magical super-couple that has seen ten years pass with every possible obstacle in their way but with love persevering at full speed.

there are plenty of other boys...

in an effort to help all those boys out there who don't have any tact, let me offer a suggestion for one situation... a suggestion that will prove most helpful if you want to keep your significant others at bay...

if you are in a position where you cannot have children and your significant other is pining a little at the thought of having them... if she is just talking a little about the topic and how it makes her a little sad, do not, under ANY circumstances recite the following line (unless, of course, you are not interested in pursuing a future with said female for longer than, say, fifteen minutes):

'well there are plenty of other boys out there that you can be with...'

 honestly, when in doubt, just saying NOTHING and pretending like you didn't hear her would be better than saying that...


this sentence was actually said to me by the muffin about an hour ago...

it was said, i was in shock and then the phone cut off (not deliberately, but because we go through a switchboard. the line only remains connected for one hour and then cuts off).

a little background?

yes, please!

obviously, if you are an avid reader of my blog, you will know that muffin has been fixed... this is old news, but news that muffin has been dealing with by sweeping it under the carpet anytime the topic of children might possibly rear it's ugly head. a topic he is understandably jumpy around due to our history...

you know what though, i'm not unreasonable. i am capable of empathy and i understand it must be hard to start a relationship with someone knowing that you can't give them something that they want quite a lot... i can understand that it must offer a great feeling of inadequacy...

now, because of muffin's tidying habits when it comes to this topic, we have never REALLY discussed it... when it DOES come up and i feel persistent i will push it, not for an absolute answer, but some sign depicting that there might be some chance, maybe, one day that we could have a tiny muffin... that's all i want. i don't want a baby tomorrow, or even next year... i just want to know that the topic isn't closed and if, one day, dane and i decide that we are in a position to do it, we might get his fixing reversed and have a baby... that's all i want.

i want that or i want to know that there's no chance at all so i can make my peace with the topic and brace myself for a future of making friends with other people's babies and perhaps working part time in a nursery, potentially leaving me in a position to go completely crazy emotionally, have a breakdown and kidnap loads of babies and cross a boarder (i'm not stupid, i'm not telling you WHICH boarder!) to start a new life with all my stolen babies. 

occasionally he obliges, saying that he's stuck in the middle and has not made any definite decision either way, but i can't help but think that him saying this is his way of shutting me up... making me believe that he might, possibly change his mind one day, but it's most likely not going to happen.

the topic came up today because danie is broody... danie has been broody for nearly six years and occasionally, when a holiday comes up she gets a little sad because she doesn't have a bundle of joy to shower with special festive-themed fabulousness...

most holidays make me think of what i'd do if i was a mum... what i'd teach my child, what kinds of traditions i'd try to start up and just what an overall fabulous mum i would be. i think about all the little crocheted things i would make them and all the cupcakes i would make for each significant event in our little lives.

but now, next door to the normal pangs of broody that i am having resides the horrifying thought that i might never, EVER have a chance to do any of this.

having both of these thoughts swirling around in my head at the same time has played it's course on my emotions the last couple of days and has left me a little fraught (obviously, i am also at a loose end  because of the fact that this is my first easter since chris and i split AND it was my mum's birthday yesterday, a lethal combination of four things to have on the brain, really) ... i've been slightly down and a little snippy which has, in turn, gotten the muffin into a tizzy...

today, just a short time ago i was on the phone with him explaining my emotional state and why i have been a little curt with him and when i finished pouring my little heart out about the lack of baby and certainty of the future of my womb he handed me the fabulous line in bold above.

he said this and my heart sank... i had absolutely no idea what to say in response to this, so i said nothing. i remained silent and he babbled about something and then said the phone was about to die. i said okay and that i loved him and hung up.

i don't really know where to go from here... what to say or what to do... i feel completely lost. should what he said have upset me? should i just forget it? should i reprimand him and fight my little corner? will it do any good? the answer to all of these is most likely 'no'...

le sigh.

i shall just eat my chocolate and watch a shite comedy to quell my aching heart.

here's hoping your easter is better than mine.