The bathroom situation at home has gone from bad to worse (see Teaching Granny to suck eggs). Last weekend, I decided that I should have done what I said I would do and demand that daughter of darkness move the twins into her brother's room, so that he could use the telephone line installed in their ex-bedroom for his internet access. She doesn't sleep in that room because the twins might wake her. The twins would then have an altogether bigger room in which I could install the playpen (currently in the living room) and it would be an ideal "nursery". I would move a t.v. in there and buy a digi-box so they could have their pick of the channels She could have exclusive use of the family bathroom. NO, NIET, NON, NR,HER, NAO!!! Was the answer, leaving aside the expletives. Because the twins room had the benefit of the en-suite, (her en-suite, you understand), she would not give it up. Thus ensued an argument of apoplectic proportions.
I think maybe I'm beginning to develop Tourette's (please don't be offended anyone who suffers or knows someone who suffers, this is not meant to be a derogatory comment). My screaming was interspersed with "I don't F***ing believe this!" "Two f***ing years ago, five of us were sharing one f***ing bathroom, now we're arguing over three f***ing bathrooms!!!"" "You have moved into this house with the twins and you and your mess has f***ing invaded every f***ing rooom, you haven't even picked up the f***ing wet nappies from their f***ing bath last night!!! You spend all day watching Jeremy f***ing Kyle, This f***ing Morning and f***cking Friends instead of putting some f***ing washing on, tidying your f*** tip of a room which still has a f***ing yohurt pot, spoon and f*** dirty used facewipes sitting on the f***ing cabinet from three f***ing weeks ago!!!" Etc, etc, etc. You get my drift.
She yelled back of course. Lots of screaming, crying, effing and blinding, coupled with threats to move out, I always get that when we fall out. Well she can move out. I will be heartbroken of course, I have become very close to the twins and I feel so privileged to have been able to see them grow over the last twelve months, but she simply doesn't appreciate the help, the house, the physical, emotional and financial support she's had. Maybe it will do her good to stand on her own two feet. Trouble is, she's reliant upon finding a Council property or Housing Assocation property where the landlord will accept a DSS tenant. It could be months, if not years. So I will continue to bottle up my anger and suppress my comments under my breath at the risk of upsetting Princess Daughter - until the next time I explode.
The result of all this was that I couldn't take the shouting and screaming, I was beoming more beetroot red by the minute and was terrified of bursting into spontaneous combustion. So I took her brother to Birmingham where we indulged ourselves over a long lunch at Cafe Rouge and watched the world go by. Wonderful, but he still hasn't got a room with internet access and it looks as if I will have to pay to send him "wireless" - whatever that means.
I bought him some Jeans and her a fluffy dressing gown with a "Grumpy but Gorgeous" logo on the back. You see, now I'm feeling sorry for her, because she cried,and because she's a single mother aged 19 of twins aged nearly two and she doesn't have a boyfriend and she doesn't have much money and she hardly goes out and she feels isolated and her friends are all working and nightclubbing.
I think maybe I'm beginning to develop Tourette's (please don't be offended anyone who suffers or knows someone who suffers, this is not meant to be a derogatory comment). My screaming was interspersed with "I don't F***ing believe this!" "Two f***ing years ago, five of us were sharing one f***ing bathroom, now we're arguing over three f***ing bathrooms!!!"" "You have moved into this house with the twins and you and your mess has f***ing invaded every f***ing rooom, you haven't even picked up the f***ing wet nappies from their f***ing bath last night!!! You spend all day watching Jeremy f***ing Kyle, This f***ing Morning and f***cking Friends instead of putting some f***ing washing on, tidying your f*** tip of a room which still has a f***ing yohurt pot, spoon and f*** dirty used facewipes sitting on the f***ing cabinet from three f***ing weeks ago!!!" Etc, etc, etc. You get my drift.
She yelled back of course. Lots of screaming, crying, effing and blinding, coupled with threats to move out, I always get that when we fall out. Well she can move out. I will be heartbroken of course, I have become very close to the twins and I feel so privileged to have been able to see them grow over the last twelve months, but she simply doesn't appreciate the help, the house, the physical, emotional and financial support she's had. Maybe it will do her good to stand on her own two feet. Trouble is, she's reliant upon finding a Council property or Housing Assocation property where the landlord will accept a DSS tenant. It could be months, if not years. So I will continue to bottle up my anger and suppress my comments under my breath at the risk of upsetting Princess Daughter - until the next time I explode.
The result of all this was that I couldn't take the shouting and screaming, I was beoming more beetroot red by the minute and was terrified of bursting into spontaneous combustion. So I took her brother to Birmingham where we indulged ourselves over a long lunch at Cafe Rouge and watched the world go by. Wonderful, but he still hasn't got a room with internet access and it looks as if I will have to pay to send him "wireless" - whatever that means.
I bought him some Jeans and her a fluffy dressing gown with a "Grumpy but Gorgeous" logo on the back. You see, now I'm feeling sorry for her, because she cried,and because she's a single mother aged 19 of twins aged nearly two and she doesn't have a boyfriend and she doesn't have much money and she hardly goes out and she feels isolated and her friends are all working and nightclubbing.
I still have a sense of humour - just.
2 comments:
Oh bloody hell,Tourettes aside, it's enough to make anyone f*cking swear. You are trying to do your best by everyone. They are being a little awkward, if I may be permitted to say so.
Do you think it's worth going back to Princess Daughter and having another go. Maybe today her hormones and yours may be arranged differently and this time you might, just might, get the result you want. Yours sounds so much the most sensible solution. She, obviously, is standing her ground in the only place she probably has any. Loggerheads.
You sound just like me, angry with your kids and your lot one minute, then that soft centre comes into play and you feel so sorry for them. I have so been there, and many, many times. What a mix of emotions.
Hope the situation resolves ASAP.
Best wishes.
Many thanks for your comments SM. Unfortunately, Princess Daughter and youngest son are both subject to the Stubborn Gene. So I guess I am stuck between a rock and a hard place at the moment. I would run away but I'd only suffer from that mother's guilt thing!
Kind Regards
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