This is day three in hiding… and rather nice it is too.
I decided, on my social worker’s insistance, to ring in sick for the rest of the week and actually just take some time out for myself. And I needed it. The only trouble was the fact that my father is next door, so we concocted a plan of deceit. I should give up the day job, you know, and become a secret agent!!! The plan was that I should get up and ready for school as normal, drive up to my friend’s house and stay there until 8.40 when Dad takes Smudgelet to school and the coast is clear. She should then drive me home and I should nip inside quickly so’s not to be seen and spend the day hiding. Then she would collect me when he goes to collect Smudgelet from school and I would fetch my car and come home as normal. A wonderful plan. Where’s the false glasses, nose and moustache?
It’s been great – I could feel it doing me good. What have I done? Well, I have managed to do a few jobs around the house that I have been putting off, which gives me a nice sense of achievement, but I haven’t bothered with that too much. This is “me” time.
I have read my book and written letters. I have played on the computer and watched Pride and Prejudice. I have snoozed in the chair and eaten chocolate. For one lovely hour I stayed at my friend’s house and played her piano. I realised that I haven’t actually played the piano properly like that since my mum died – six years ago! At first it was depressing because I just couldn’t hit the right notes, but then I got to some music that I’d practised and practised in the past so’s to be able to play it for my mum. I tried to follow the music, but then closed my eyes and just played… and it was wonderful. It didn’t sound wonderful, of course, but it felt wonderful. I must get a piano.
I managed also to sneak out to the hairdresser’s. They do a massage during the wash so that was extra relaxing (apart from the nagging suspicion that the girl doing the washing was a past pupil!) and I always feel better when I have had my hair done anyway. Because I hadn’t booked in advance, I had to have a stylist I hadn’t had before. I shall choose her in future, though. She managed to force my uncooperative hair into a style which looked really nice – and somehow she got me talking about the boys and my dad and provided another excellent sounding board.
Tiddles benefited from my relaxed state in that I didn’t throttle him on Thursday morning when he suddenly announced, three minutes before leaving, that he’d lost his bus pass the previous day and the driver had said he wouldn’t let anyone on without one. I couldn’t send him with the bus fare because he can’t be trusted with money. AAAAGGGGGHHH! I pretended to ring work and say I’d be late, then took him to the bus.
Smudgelet really has limited sense when it comes to keeping his head down. He is still playing up a lot. I have had to use the ultimate deterrant – I have already told him he is not having the new bike he was waiting for, and now he has begun to realise that if he messes me about at bedtime one more time, his old bike will be given away too. I don’t like making huge threats, but it’s the only thing that makes any difference. Of course, Grandad still keeps telling him that he can do no wrong, which doesn’t help matters at all.
Dad is speaking to me. Barely, but just about. I really don’t know where we are going with that one. Yesterday I arrived home to be informed that Smudgelet had asked him if he would pick him up later from after-school-club, give him another hour to play – and Dad had agreed. No mention of who was going to pay for it, of course. I bit my tongue. It was Smudgelet’s swimming night and I really needed him to be home so he could be fed and get his swimming things ready in advance. It was also the night when Tiddles has his counselling and I was hoping for some “special” time with Smudgelet. But of course, I am only the boy’s mother… why should I have any say? 😉
Spot a slight note of cynicism?
I don’t care, anyway. I am going to make the most of this, my final day in hiding. The nurse at the health centre informed me I am, alas, too short for my weight. This is distressing – anyone know of any good ways to gain height? Maybe eating more would help me grow ! Anyway, my social worker has forbidden me from dieting yet and says I need plenty of cake and chocolate, and who am I not to do as I’m told??? 😀 Oh, and the friend who is doing the respite rang last night and said she’s really keen to start, the money is in place, and how soon can she have the boys??? Yippee!!!! (Wonder if she’d like my Dad as well!)