Just when you think you're plate is full...
It's been an uppy downy kind of a day. Just when you think that your plate is full and that you're trying to manage what's on it, someone goes and gives you a bigger plate. Today I've had a few laughs, but I've also shed a few tears.
The laughs started this morning when Middley was convinced that Nelson Mandela is the man on the skittles advert. She still isn't convinced by me saying that he isn't, "it might be that man on the film Evan Almighty". "You mean Morgan Freeman?"... "that's the one".
The next one was when she asked if she could needle the dough I was making for the Garlic bread. "You needle away sweetheart". That made me smile too.
The next one started as a laugh. Middley, was sat next to me whilst we were watching something on the tv, and she said that I had a spider in my hair. Oh My God. There was. Could I get it out? Don't be daft. The girls thought this was hilarious. It wasn't until I stood up to shake it out of my hair that hubby started. I was rediculous for trying to get it out of my hair. I am rediculous. I am the cause of all the problems in this house. The girls don't like me. He doesn't like me (but then I don't like him very much at the moment either so we're even), they'd all be better without me. I tutt and I huff and I snuff, and I snarl and it's all my fault. He'd blame me if the sky turned green I'm sure of it. I don't retaliate any more. I bite my tongue and don't answer. Even when I cry the tears are silent. In my head I'm screaming, but the tears just roll down my cheeks silently. He left the room and middley asked me "are you alright mummy?". Bless my girls.
I took Littley to the doctor today. She has to go and get bloods taken tomorrow to rule out any illness but he's sure it's Alopecia. "This is caused by stress. Why would a nine year old be stressed?". Deep breath... "Have you read her daddy's notes like you were asked to?". "No". Another deep breath... "He has Dementia. A nurse told her that he would be going into an old people's home. Do you think that's sufficient to cause stress?". "Yes". He doesn't know how much she will lose, I'm to keep an eye on it. She'll probably see a specialist. "Try to keep stress to a minimum" was his parting words as we left. My inner voice just replied "If I could keep stress to a minimum, she wouldn't be losing her hair", but I just smiled and said thank you. I'm going to get an appointment with my doctor when we get her bloods done tomorrow.
Hubby is stressed about her hair loss, it's something else to add to the bucket load of things he worries about now. He's got the car tomorrow (again) so it's another trek to the chemist to get the magic cream they didn't have tonight so it can be put on her arms before we go to the doctors. Another walk to the doctors. Another walk home. He just seems so detached from everything. In one respect he hates me, but in another it's a case of "Constantly Trying will do it. She'll sort it". I'm always the bad guy. Everybody else sees the "normal" him. He controls it to the best of his ability with others, like he's putting on a performance. With me it's a different him. I get everything thrown at me. I used to remember a time when I had a starring role in the "Constantly Trying show". Now I'm the person who brushes up the stage on the "Hubby show". I used to appear in his show. I used to feel the limelight. Not now. I'm the one at the end of the night who clears up for the star of the show. The one everyone forgets about. The one who is only noticed when they aren't there because they haven't done what should be done. It's sad, and this is the best it's ever going to be. It's just very sad.
Everyone says "tomorrow's another day". It's just a shame that it's always the same as today.