It's not over yet....

I've decided to keep blogging. I didn't want it to end that way, so I've restored my entries and changed my security settings to ensure that it doesn't come up in search engines (that's how he found it) and only people on a special list can access it. If you're reading this, you are on that list.

For now, I can't 'not' write. Writing this stuff down has given me a voice, a place to put all the shit in my head that I didn't want to (and couldn't) unload on ex or my friends. It's also given me a place to write the good things down in my life that I don't want to forget. And I've met some fine people here. It's helped me a lot and you know what, in a funny way, I feel relieved that all my feelings are out on the table now. Ex knows what I feel, how I think. He said nothing in this blog came as a surprise - nothing. He didn't see the progress or any change, he only saw the parts that spoke badly of him, the parts that blame him for our problems. He thinks I want him to take full responsibility for our situation, but I don't. A little maybe, but not all. How can so many problems be just one person's fault? Everyone I've ever spoken to has said the same thing, it takes two.

He couldn't reconcile the fact that I was writing this about him and still wanting to get back together. I didn't understand it myself and I wrote as much. This blog is a venting point, a place to put all the shit that accumulated in my head over all the dysfunctional years we've been together and then some. It was not meant as a personal attack on him. If I'd wanted that, I would have written much worse things about him than I did.

To his absolute credit, he's been able to put his feelings (and they were really intense) about this aside and not take it personally. So when I saw him again the next day, it was as though it had never happened. He talked to me about it but he wasn't angry, just normal. He said he wants to stop the cycle of hate and will do so by choosing not to hate me for doing this. He does not want to enter into a world (my world) where hate and resentment are the dominating emotions. After all, he said, he knows I think this way anyway.

I'm grateful that he's taken the higher road because to do any less would be a disaster. I didn't do anything wrong, even if he did take it personally. It was never for his eyes, never meant to be read by him or anyone who knows him. If he can put it aside and continue to treat me respectfully, then only good will come of it. There are kids involved and they still need both of us to treat each other well.

One interesting thing I found out was that he could say the worst things imaginable to me and I didn't feel a thing. Not. one. thing. He said I betrayed him that he deserved better and I didn't. That no-one could love me, not with the way I am. That I didn't deserve to be loved. He called me two-faced and said he was so angry with me that he wanted to hurt me. And then said that if he'd written or said anything half as bad as what I said about him, I'd be a dribbling mess. All the while, I sat there and listened to this (kids were out of the house) and I didn't feel a damn thing. I was not a dribbling mess, I wasn't much of anything really. I just sat there and let him go on. I don't know if it was because I didn't care or because I was numb from the horror of him finding this. Even when I tried to explain that what he'd just said was way worse than anything I'd written, he cut me off and went on about something else. I gave up trying to explain and be right and let him be. Well, we each live our own realities, don't we?

And that's what we've agreed on. That we each have our own reality and that for both of us, it's different. Irreconcilable differences. That's grounds for divorce, isn't it?

End

This blog is ending here and now. To the father of my children, I'm sorry you found it. I get angry with you sometimes and vent my feelings here. These are not all of my thoughts about you though. The other times I thought good of you, appreciated you for who you were. You think I'm lying. I'm not. I needed this place to vent the thoughts I couldn't say to you, to get perspective on a situation that is, for both of us, very difficult. This is where the BPD went, for most of the time.

If I look at it through your eyes, they are nasty, stupid thoughts. They tell people I am a victim and you are the perpetrator. It is not true. I am the perpetrator, who has done wrong by you, who has destroyed you, who has taken away the essence of who you are. You deserve better. You are the one who has let me stay here, who has given me the chance to get better, who has been here for me and listened to me rave on and I betrayed you by writing hurtful things about you when you annoyed me or I got angry with you. You are not the cause of this, it is not your fault.

I am despicable. I didn't speak enough about the nice things you did. I know you can never forgive me now. I know you hate me. I would hate me too. This blog doesn't give you the credit you deserve and you deserve credit for being here and letting me be here.

I am truly sorry for all the misery and unhappiness I have caused you. I hope you find happiness in your life and peace that will restore the gentle and kind person you are.

I should read my own blog

I've just read this post... dreams and realised what an idiot I can be. In it, I talk about dreaming about me and ex and how I can accept that they are what they are - just dreams, not to be taken seriously. And what did I do? Go and tell ex about my thoughts of wanting to get back together. Unbelievable. Sometimes I think I deserve what I get I mean, how can I forget something written so recently. How can I contradict myself so badly?

Uggh, I make myself sick.

Finally, things are back to normal

Well, here I am again. In the middle of all that has been over the last few days, my computer crashed itself into oblivion and needed a little reformatting - if there ever is such a thing. Luckily for me I have the sense not to keep my data and my OS on the same hard disk so I didn't lose much of anything - at least I don't think so.

Ex and I are both recovering from the BPD spiral, as he calls it. I'm OK and my 'feelings' are back to normal. No, I do not want to get back with him and yes, I do want to be here to take care of the kids and let them be with their father. If you ask ex, it's the other way around - he's letting me be here to be with them - like I'm some mental patient, which I guess I look like when I spiral down. Every time I do this, I think it will push him over the edge and that will be it for me - kicked out, no kids. The panic about that always comes after, when it would be too late to do anything about it anyway. I do need to get control over this though, I just don't quite know how to.

So it's late, I'm OK again. Thankyou INC, Melba and Pete for thinking of me and helping me through this. I love you all for it. And Melba, I appreciate your straight-forward comments, really I do. Sometimes I just need to be told. Thankyou all again.

'Night.

Through the mill and back again

The holiday I had, the four days of fat free, healthy, no dairy food or refined sugars, seems like a dream. If it wasn't for the 'personal health profile' sitting on my sofa bed and the scales showing me to be 2 kilos lighter than I was, I'd could swear it didn't happen. Side note: my blood profile shows I'm actually healthy, I just need to up my exercise and intake of wholemeal products.

I don't feel like I've had a holiday though. After I came back, I crashed badly. I wanted (and still want to) chuck it all in and come home. It was bad, really bad. I screamed, tantrumed and cried all day. I took xanax to calm the worst of it. Then, waking from the stupor it induces, I cried some more. It was the worst BPD episode I've had in a long time, from what I can remember anyway.

I am on the other side now, slowly climbing my way back to the normality I had created for myself. I'm not there yet though, things are still very fragile, the pain and anger are lurking below the surface, waiting for any opportunity to burst through. Ex, unable to handle the stress and tensions created by this, went for dinner at 9 and didn't return til 9 this morning. He's sleeping now.

Before I left, things had been going smoothly - friendly, smiling, comfortable. And I'd been having dreams (damn dreams) about getting back together and how nice it would be, now that I've changed and grown up. I'd forgotten our conversation about not fantasizing about reality, a serious mistake on my part. I thought when I came back I would talk about it with him.

Then I came home and found out that ex has someone else. Someone outside of this life, someone he cares for and wants to be with. There is no hope, for us, ever and it hurts like hell. I know before I've said I've accepted that, but somehow, somewhere deep down, I did still have hope that we had a second chance - even for the sake of the children. And I do still have some good feelings for him. Feelings that I don't ever think will go away.

I didn't confront him with my knowledge ( I do know for sure), but asked him instead whether we had a chance now that things were going a lot more smoothly. After beating around the bush, blah, blah, blah, he said "OK, you want to know? No, there is no going back. I do not want to go back there ever. The memories are so bad, I just can't go there." Then I asked if there was a third party in all of this. He said it didn't matter, he does not want to go back there. In the next breath he said he doesn't know what's going to happen down the track. I think that's his way of placating me - bastard, just give me the reality so I can deal with it.

My family would be looking at me now wondering why in hell would I ever want to get back together with him. I don't quite understand it myself, but I know that it's to do with the desire to save our children from ever having to part with either of us. I got it into my head that I would do anything for that not to happen and getting back together seems to be the only solution that will save us all from the pain that will ensue. That may not be rational, but it's the truth and this blog is where I put my truth.

So I want to get back together, find out he actually does have someone else and subsequently spriralled down to hell, kicking and screaming on the way and dragging him down with me. I was grateful that the kids were away with my mother in law.

In a single day, I destroyed any fragile confidence that he had in me that I could remain stable. He said he only sees it as a setback. I hope he's being truthful. As I sit here writing this, I want to scream and shout and kick and plead and grovel for him to get back together. I'm pathetic. The 'want' is so bad, I would do anything to get it, just like a drug addict.

In this mode right now, even with what I know, I don't know how to make it go away. Xanax is not the solution. I want what I want and I want it now. Not rational I know. I will have to be strong to make this desire go away, otherwise I will start making stupid, regrettable decisions that will destroy whatever fragile existence we have.

If you have a god, please pray for me. If you don't, send me your positive thoughts. I need all the help I can get. But I will get through this. I have to. My sanity, my children's stability and the rest of my life, depends on it.

Last post before my holiday - hurt.

That's a witty title for a blog post, isn't it (not)? I'm supposed to leave tomorrow morning for a few days at a health retreat. A bit of quiet, relaxation, massage, exercise, vegan food and no kids. I say 'supposed' because I'm going with other people and sometimes you never know what comes up.

I finished my English lesson this morning and was relieved that it was the last class I'd have to do for a while. I definitely need a rest.

Though, enough of that, we all know I'm tired and I don't need to keep saying so. There's much work to be done. I need to spring clean my room because my mother-in-law is coming to stay and watch the kids. I need to do the housework, shop for groceries and do the washing. I need to pack my bag and oh yes, I need to go to the pharmacy. I probably won't get to post while I'm away, but we'll see. My friends are bringing their laptop with them and I know that place has wi-fi, so if I can get online, I'll blog about it.

Over lunch today I caught one of my favourite movies. Mrs Doubtfire. I love Robin Williams, he never fails to make me laugh. I've loved his wit and spontaneity since the days of Mork and Mindy. But I didn't laugh so much today. In fact, I cried. But not for the movie. I'd forgotten the storyline involves the finality of a marriage break-up. The father gets ousted, not allowed to see his kids and they can't see him. In the big picture of (initially) a very funny movie, you don't notice the break-up so much (at least I didn't) but today it struck a really raw nerve.

I know I don't want my kids to go through this. I don't want them to bear the pain of what is going to happen. Even though we live day to day and the '3 year mark' is still a long way off, I still think about it. That day, in my mind, when we 3 will leave, and the kids will have to say goodbye to their father, who loves them to bits and who they adore. I don't want it. Knowing they will have to do this breaks my heart to no end, a perpetual hurt that lurks beneath the surface and erupts when I am alone and vulnerable. In the past two weeks, it's erupted twice. Pure emotion, that no philosophy or book or 'self-help strategy' has been able to stop. Triggered by scenes on tv, it just comes forth and only stops when there is no more. It is the heartbreak I have for my children and what they will go through when we leave this place. It is not anger, it is not Borderline anything, just sadness and helplessness and regret that things couldn't be different. To my children, I say, I am so sorry papa and I couldn't make it work, so sorry that you couldn't have both of us together. Just so, so sorry.

No amount of reading will temper this feeling. The only way to get through it is to, well.... get through it. Let it come and go. Give it its time and it will pass and the pain will become less. And I will tell my children the same. That it's OK to be sad, because a family breaking up IS sad and it's OK to cry. And if you cry, you can get some of the pain and anger out. And then you can get on with your life, knowing that although your parents can't be together, they love you very, very much, more than you could ever imagine.

And in the quiet of every night, I still wonder to myself, am I doing the right thing?


See you in a bit.

Big week

It's the last week of the school term and it's been a big one - and it's only Thursday and somehow, in between all the teaching and housework I'm doing, I still managed a meltdown - medium intensity but had to take xanax all the same. So to answer my mother in laws question (what, what's keeping you so busy?), I'll take this time to reflect on my schedule.

Monday: Wake up at 9 (I know that sounds late, but I don't get to bed til 1 or 2 am), kids tutor comes for 2 hours (10 til 12), do housework, 11.30 prepare lunch, send kids to school, go to autistic centre for at least 2 hours, 3pm. come home, rest a bit, make dinner, 6pm pick up kids, dinner, English centre from 6.30 - 9, come home and coach my own kids doing homework til 11 and then get them to bed. Try to wind down and go to sleep.

Tuesday: Sleep til 10 (no tutor today). Up, breakfast and do housework, prepare lunch and bags and shit for school, get kids ready, send them to school at 12.30, go autistic centre til 2.30, come home, shower, student arrives at 3.30 and 4.30 (two of them), finish with them at 5.30, start dinner, pick up kids, finish cooking dinner, serve dinner, go English centre at 7.15, finish there at 9, come home and coach kids homeowork til 11. Wind down and bed.

Wednesday: Up by 9, tutor coming at 10 - 12, housework and prepare school shit. Ex drops kids at school and I have lunch and rest til 2.30. Student comes at 2.30, another arrives at 3.30, I finish with them at 5.30. Relax and cook dinner. No english centre. Coach kids homework, kids in bed by 10.30.

Thursday: Morning as usual. Ex sends kids to school, no autistic centre, so can do housework til 2-ish (or watch tv and eat lunch). Student comes at 2.30, another arrives at 4.30. I'm finished by 5.30. Shower. Don't cook today - ex takes them out for dinner. At english centre by 6.10 for fill in class, teach my own class at 7.30 (til 9 or so), then home. Do kids homework and endeavour to get them to sleep by 11.30.

Friday: Morning bullshit. Send kids to school. Go autistic centre for a few hours. Come home, shower and prepare lessons for english class tonight and my new english class at home on Sat, mornings. Cook something for dinner. English centre at 7.30, finish there at 10.30. Go for supper if not too tired with friends and the kids.

Saturday morning. Up at 8, shower and tidy up. Eat something. Kids for new english class arrive by 9. 3 hours of englishy goodness and fun. Kids go, my own kids go off for a piano lesson and I go grocery shopping. Pick them up at 2 and take them for lunch. Go home. Relax.

Sunday: Relax... or go to Malacca for meat shopping.

Phew! The fill in classes are only temporary, which I'm glad for. I don't mind being busy as long as I'm organised, which I usually am these days. That wasn't always the case though, but that's another blog.

Next week is school holidays and I'm going to this health farm thing with friends. 3 nights, 4 days. My friends almost cancelled on me because they got a notice about going to some compulsory education department workshop thing and then also remembered that their daughter is leaving for her National Service duty on the day we were due to get back. Come on, people, get organised! I was disappointed when they cancelled, but after talking to them, they've decided that they can still go, we just have to come back a night earlier. That's OK with me. I just didn't want to lose my RM 500 deposit that I'd handed to them a day earlier.

I had a minor meltdown yesterday. Ex had left the car with an empty petrol tank after taking it out twice and I got really shitty and it spiralled down from there. I roped everything in - fucking moron drivers, park every-fucking-where, never consider other people, stupid disorganised husband of my best friend can't get his act together and has to cancel our holiday, why can't he just give her some independence and why can't she just take it, fucking ex and his secretive bullshit that drives me crazy (ie he shuts off his monitor whenever I walk into the room so I don't see what he's doing - he's either playing cards or reading forums about god-knows-what - like I should never see or know what he's up to) and to top it all off, I'd asked my son to help me in with the shopping and I was locking the car and could hear him saying over and over again, Mummy is a loser, mummy is a loser. Now, I'm pretty tough when it comes to hearing things like that coz, kids'll say those things, but for me yesterday, it really was the last straw. And of course, above all, I just wanted to go home. I reminded myself that the urge would pass. Morning came and it had, as always.

It was a good thing the meltdown happened on a Wednesday (I don't have night classes) because the xanax I took around 6.30 knocked me flat. The important thing was though, it stopped the spiral. When ex came into the kitchen and saw something was wrong, I broke down a bit and told him I had to take xanax. Then he got all gentle and nice and said never mind, we just have to do what we have to do and if xanax helps, then that's good. I love it/hate it when he's so nice to me. Makes the situation more difficult because it starts off that "wouldn't it be nice if we were back together" bullshit that goes around in my brain sometimes. But don't worry dear family, he's back to his usual self tonight, saying I really need to teach my son to undo his school shoe laces much faster!!! - so that's straightened out my thinking for me.

So it's time for bed. I've had enough thinking for now. Have a nice weekend.

Hao Wei

Hao Wei is a young student who has been coming to me for private tuition for about a year. When he first turned up he could utter one sentence in English (this is a mosquito) and understand simple instructions in Chinese. His behaviour was a little hyper and he basically existed within his own little world, talking to himself while he played his own imaginary games. There was little eye-contact and even less acknowledgement of the people around him. I was certain he was autistic, though a psychologist from the Autistic society here has since deemed him to be 'not autistic'. He had no behavioural boundaries when I met him, touching every toy that caught his eye which was most of them that I had in my little 'special ed' collection. When he left, the room looked like a bomb had hit it. On the positive side, his mother recognised that he seemed to prefer learning in English - he could rote count to 5 and say "this is a mosquito" and I could see some learning potential.

I took him on to see what I could do for him. It's what I do, working with children who have disabilities and learning difficulties. It's what I've wanted to do since I was fifteen. I love the job, though these days, I think I'm getting a little burnt out because my patience isn't what it used to be.

He's been with me for about a year now and his behaviour has improved immensely. He no longer just wants to play. He knows he has to work - reading, writing and counting. He usually looks up when I call his name and will sit at a table and complete written activities such as tracing his name, letters and numbers, simple mazes and dot to dot puzzles. He can consistently count to twenty in English, but not Chinese. He can complete 4 - 5 piece puzzles and knows his shapes and colours. He knows all the letters of the alphabet (big and small) and can put the letters of his name in order. He can almost write his full name independently (still has a little trouble with 'e'). These are all things he couldn't do before so he's come a long way.

But not far enough. Trouble is, his mother wants / needs him to start Grade one next year at the same school as his brother. He's not going to make it. I've got less than a year to teach him all he needs to know and I know he's not going to be able to do it - it took 3 or 4 months for him to learn to write his name - and that was with him tracing and writing his name over and over again each session. I'd like to stay positive and think that I shouldn't impose limits on this child, but I have to be realistic too.

When the psychologist from the autism society declared him to be not autistic, his mother was happy and relieved. She thought that he was just going to catch up and there'd be no more problems. Her favourite question to me is "Hao Wei OK already?" meaning she's asking me whether he's OK now or not. He's not OK, not for Grade one anyway. She asks this question everytime he advances a small step, probably hoping that now he can write his name, he'll be able to learn the rest of what he needs to know.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. The kid's going to have a learning problem for the rest of his life. But how do I tell her that? I've repeatedly said that there are still problems to be solved, that he has perceptual and spatial problems that limit his ability when learning to write, but I haven't told her that it's lifelong. I keep wishing for a miracle for him, trying to blame myself for his not advancing far enough. Last week, I tried to convince myself that it was a language barrier (he does speak chinese at home after all), so I went to his Kinder and spoke to his teacher. His teacher told me he's got a lot of problems, they just accomodate him. Turns out, he actually learns better in English than he does in Mandarin. He knows more words in English than he does in any of the other languages that he's learning (chinese and malay).

I can sense his mother's desparation for him to be normal - every session she's asks if he's learnt his name and done his counting and every time she will tell me of something that he's achieved. "Hao Wei can write name already, he OK already, can write 'e'" was what she told me last session - like writing the letter e has suddenly proven to her that he's as normal as the next kid. I'm not judging her - I know where she's coming from. She just wants him to seem normal for as long as possible, putting off that day where she will have to face the truth about her son's abilities and it will rip her heart out as all the dreams and expectations she has for him, go sailing out the door. She's just putting off the pain, like we all do.

I've seen her cry, when I told her that yes, I thought he was autistic. She didn't want it to be and was so happy when the psychologist told her otherwise. He'd been misdiagnosed 1 year earlier by an 'education therapist' in Malacca who holds no qualifications to diagnose these kids. I still think he's autistic because of how little he cares for the world in which he lives but I don't tell her that - I'm not qualified to diagnose either so I don't go against an official diagnosis.

So, what am I going to do? When I found out that he's at the same ability level in Chinese as he is in English, I felt a switch go on in my head. I know what I have to do. I'm going to do my damndest to teach this boy to read and write and do maths in English. I don't think the language barrier is the problem. His own teachers haven't been able to teach him his own language, yet in English, he can identify the alphabet, numbers, colors, shapes and his own name. He can also rote spell a few words - "w-a-t-c-h watch". He's teachable and that's all I need to work with.

However, he probably won't be able to go to grade one next year and I'm going to have to be the bearer of bad news and let his mum know. My feeling is that she already does but doesn't want to admit it and I don't blame her for it. She just wants the best for her son. It's always hard to accept our children are flawed, but in the Western world, we have help - reosurces, information, special schools and vocational programs for kids that can't do it on their own. Here there is virtually nothing, so of course she is clinging to every smidgen of hope there is, that her little boy is "OK already".


The irony is, if he was autistic, he'd be able to attend the autistic centre where he'd have access to an education that suits his abilities and that would help him reach his potential. As it is, he has little or no choices. If he goes to school, they are going to reject him because he's not up to standard and he won't be able to keep up. His mother will be forced to place him in a national school where they speak malay (of which he understands little) or keep him home. She could still send him to me and probably will, but it's not enough. He needs 5 or 6 hours a day, 5 days a week and even if she could pay me for it, I don't have the time.

I've promised his mother I'll talk to the principal of the school he's supposed to attend next year. It's the same school as my son and daughter attend. We have a good relationship - she had more time for ex when she realised he was married to me!! If she won't let him delay his entry into school by a year, I'll see if she'll let him attend with a teacher's aide. I don't know how I'm going to pull that one off - teacher's aides are unheard of here, but I'll try and convince her that it's the progressive thing to do. She might agree, or not.

In the meantime, I'm going to teach this boy English - he's going to read, write and do maths (maybe), it'll just take a while. If he doesn't, I'll know that it's not because I didn't try. Wish me luck and patience please people.

The rush of approval

The other day, I had one of those blinding moments when you realise something fundamental about yourself. Ex and I were talking about addictive behaviours, why some people drink, take drugs and what it is about those experiences that keeps people going back and doing it all again.

We talked about the rush, the pure joy that recreational drugs give you (not that I'd know), aside from the fact that they wreak havoc on your body and your mind. There are different ways and means for getting a rush like this - some people choose extreme sports while others choose drugs.

Then he asked me a question - what gives or has given me that pure joy rush. And I had to think about it. I know that feeling that starts in your gut and ends up in your heart and your just absolutley over the moon about something. So I couldn't put my finger on it at first, then some things came to mind:

~ being accepted into University made me so happy I almost cried.

~ seeing one of my little disabled friends learn something that I'd taught them.

~ finding out I was pregnant with my daughter (which lasted about 2 seconds because when the doctor rang we were fighting as usual)

~ seeing my kids meet their developmental milesones (sitting, walking etc)

AND..... wait for this one... (I do cringe when I think about it)

~ APPROVAL FROM EX! If he liked something I did and said so, or if he liked the way I looked or whatever it was, I got the same 'pure joy' buzz as I did with all those other significant events that warranted a response like that. And if I didn't get it, I craved it and did everything I could think of to please him. And I did it for years and years.

So there it is. Some people take drugs to get high. I just need someone else to like me.

I am glad to say though that through a vastly improved self esteem, I no longer crave his approval like I used to and when he does 'approve' of whatever I'm doing, I give him a smile and get on with my life.



ps. this post is just looking at the similarities of addictive behaviours and is in no way meant to minimise the problems of those with a serious drug addiction. I don't know drugs, nor pretend that I do. Just sayin' is all.

Baggage, it's a bastard but it's going to be OK

I still get very angry, very quickly, with the kids at least. I don't like my behaviour and I know I need to change it, but I'm finding it very difficult.

After yet another argument with my daughter, I'd come to my room for some space to calm down. Ex had come in to ask me something and noticed something was wrong. He asked, and feeling absolutely terrible, I answered and told him what was wrong. It was as if I'd been hiding this terrible secret about how the kids and I get into these awful arguments and I end up losing my cool and the kids get upset.

The thing is, my kids have no qualms about telling me if they think I'm making a mistake. None. Just the other day my daughter had told me how I'm holding them to double standards - I'm allowed to shout and express my anger, yet I keep telling her and her brother that they are not supposed to shout and please don't get angry with me. I didn't know what to say to her, except agree with her and tell her that we'll have to work on this problem.

So here I am, being mummy day in and day out, trying to organise their lives, keep them happy, feed them the right foods, sort out their fights, let them do this, don't let them do that, coach them them through their homework each night, dress, feed and bathe them (though they do alot of that themselves now) and I get back "you're not listening mummy, but mummy, oh mummy, MUMMY!!!!" from them.

They argue, shout, scream, stomp off in anger, tantrum, glower, cry and argue some more and all the while I'm telling them not to. And it's so exasperating - and I've only got two of them and by anyone's standards, they're pretty good kids.

So where am I going wrong? How can I stop this horrible cycle of me trying to do what I think is my job and them not wanting to do whatever as well as telling me about all my mistakes and all of us getting upset?

We're obviously caught in a cycle where someone needs to change and since I'm the adult, it will have to be me. The other thing I've noticed about this is that the feelings that accompany this situation are familiar - they're the same feelings that arose when ex and I used to fight in the past. It's like my baggage from the past, contaminating the present. All the familiar anger and resentment rises up in an instant, I get all defensive and upset and really, the kids don't have a chance of being heard.

I know this is true, I can feel it in my core and it bothers me, alot. When I think about the very worst that can happen, I think that I'll screw them up and shatter our relationship, pretty much like I did with ex. In fact, this whole thing smacks of the exact communication patterns that ex and I developed over the years. Good one Mummy!!!!

I know that by being aware that things can be different, therein lies the possibility for change. I spoke with ex about all this today, and, I have to say, he was great about it. He listened to me talk, didn't criticise me or tell me it was my fault, just listened and told me he knew it was tough. He said that I do a lot of things with them and it was bound to get tough. And yes, he agreed that daughter was going through a phase where she was really pushing everyone's buttons, even our son's. He said that it's going to be OK, we'll power through this, he'll speak with our daughter and that I should hang in there, because in two weeks, I'll be going for a holiday and that will do me good. He reassured me that a short holiday will not traumatise the kids and that he'll be fine looking after them.

I almost fell off my chair. I've can't ever remember him saying to me that everything was going to be OK and that we'll 'power through this' and if I want to chat, I should just come and see him. In our worst times, it was all I ever wanted to hear - that things were going to be OK. People need to be reassured and I could never understand why he could never do this and why he thought it wasn't necessary. I felt so flawed because I needed it. When things get tough for the kids and I, the first thing I tell them when it's over is that it's OK and we're going to be fine. I can feel them physically relax and calm down and it makes it better for them.

After the talk with ex, I actually felt a whole lot better (instead of a whole lot worse) and I came away thinking that this isn't going to be so hard afterall - and if it does get too hard, I've got someone here who cares about the kids as much as I do. Parenting is fucking hard if you're right in the middle of it, but it's easier with someone else there to pick up if you lose it. If ex and I can parent from the same page of the book, it'll be more than worth the sacrifice I've made.

Phew! I'm exhausted.

Daily happenings

The kids are in bed, ex is at work and it's time to sit and catch up.

I'm glad to say that business in the pub is picking up. Perhaps people are over being scared about the global economic downturn and things are returning to normal. Perhaps not, I really don't know.

I signed up with my two friends here today to go to a health farm. You stay for a week, they give you 3 vegan meals a day, give you some cooking lessons, I can get a massage, they let you sit in their spa and generally enjoy the quietness and then you come home. Am I interested in vegan-ism? Not really. Am I really going as a way of getting away from the kids for a bit and perhaps I'll lose a kilo or two? You betcha! I need a holiday, I need exercise and I need a good kick up the arse about my health, which is not too bad but I worry about the effects of getting no exercise at all. 4 nights and 5 days will make me RM 1000 poorer but I think it will be worth it - and not having to hear the word Mummy for a little while is rather appealing - just a little while mind you. My daughter will be fine, my son will cry, but be OK.

Went out for breakfast this morning with my mum in law. We had roti chanai (flat bread, fried and eaten with a chick pea curry) and drank teh tarik like real locals. All for of us ate for about AUD 5. The breeze was pleasant and the sky was bright. Very pleasant, although my MIL did find it necessary to tell me that I should be using moisturiser with an SPF of 30 - why? I don't know - maybe I'm looking dry and old.

The kids followed her home and I stayed home and did some serious housework, like cleaning floors and drains and shit. Yuk. Really sweaty, smelly stuff, but needed to be done because the lovely girl that cleaned for us has run away. Yep, she's absconded from her employer.

These girls (they do call them maids here) come from Indonesia and work in Malaysia on two year contracts living with families as a live in cleaner/baby sitter. They can earn as much here in two years as they could in ten years back home. So it's a good deal for them if they have a good employer. We had a live in maid once and she ran away after I'd left for Australia. After she left, we decided not to employ another one, so we got this girl to come clean for us twice a week. She lives with a family who contracts her services out to people like us who don't want someone living with them. She was really good, too. She'd have the whole place clean in 5 hours. I felt sorry for her because these girls work so hard, sometimes 3 5-hour shifts a day and they don't get any extra money - no such thing as overtime for them. I tried not to give her too much work to do.

Anyway, she ran away because her employer reneged on letting her go back to Indonesia to see her mother and children. Her contract was up and she was due to go back anyway, but her employer wanted her to stay back and work. She must have felt like she didn't have a choice but to run. She'd been preparing for this trip for months, collecting clothes and things to take back to her kids and then at the last minute, someone tells her she can't go. I think I would have run too. I feel for her and hope she's OK and with her children now. But, truth is, no-one knows whether she got back or not.

My head hurts and my hands are dry and itchy from something I ate or touched today. I don't know which one it was. But it's time for bed. Tomorrow is another busy day, got the kids chinese tutor coming in the morning and I'll be busy preparing some materials for the autistic centre and getting the kids stuff ready for school and trying not to stress out.

'Night.