Happiness is...

Tiny is playing with his toy arch, babbling and yelling to his toys and I can't but smile happily and giggle. And think how evil of a person it makes me that I have realized that I feel relieved that this is how it is: just me and him.

I probably shouldn't, taking how things are, but that is how I feel and nowadays no one is judging me when I say how I feel...

It won't be easy, but it'll be worth it.

When we were napping, Tiny and I, I had dream of tons of different cross stitch designs, which probably means that today, after Tiny has gone to bed, I'll better put some stitches on something.

Boy's blog name

It dawned on me when I was in the bus talking to this old lady who said how big Boy is and I told her how little he was when he was born... then it dawned on me (repetitio est mater studiorum, but maybe not now...), Boy's going to be Tiny!
All big men in movies are called Tiny, aren't they, and as my tiny little guy is already wearing one year old's clothes (he'll be six months within 1½ weeks) and is bigger than average baby of his age it would suit him well.

And he'll always be my tiny little guy, no matter if he grows up to be 2 meters and 120 kilos of pure muscle (my metrically challenged readers should visit here) as it seems.

And Tiny has more ooompah in it than just Boy, doesn't it?

It's nice and quiet here at home, with Boy sleeping and me sitting on the sofa... just the two of us

I have thought about everything lately and remembered all kinds of things that just make me more confident about my choice...

I am restless sleeper, which in his head meant that I watched his every move... yes, you read it right. Which basically means that he probably thinks that I need no sleep whatsoever.

I also heard that I watched everything he ate (yeah, right, like I, for example, was the one who always nagged about margarine usage - guess again - and hello, I bought that stuff. It costs 1 € per 400g...). Where should I have put my eyes? Close them?

For some reason my apartment gathers dust quickly, and as everyone knows dust is human skin and such... no, you are wrong! It was all me! Yes...

Goodness.

When I was pregnant I lost a ton of hair. Long hair. And he was like I willingly dropped it everywhere and didn't clean them out just out of spite. It was just an excuse to tell him that I am pregnant and that can happen, I can't help it.
Mister, there is your hair still in the apartment and yours is short. And I just sweep it without complaining. Because it happens to everyone, hair does fall off even when out of bathroom and without notice. Yes, hair has no manners. Shame on it.

I had to drag him to our first sonogram. I went alone to the next one as he had "forgot" when it was (we just got the appt. time 2½ months previous and I reminded him about it 1½ weeks before it was). And the one after that, and the one after that.

Day after my c- section he called and wondered why I hadn't picked up his calls.
I was sick because of morphine for the first day - threw up on midwives when trying to get up. And maybe I had a newborn baby there beside me... and I was in a room of four, not in private room as I was there without support person, so I kind of had to thought about the other new, operated, mothers and keep the phone silent... And for Pete's sake, I sent him a message as first thing I did when I got out of recovery room, three hours after surgery. I could barely hold the phone...
Good enough for you?
And I recall that someone didn't call when I was few days on the ward because I had pre-eclampsia.

My hypothyroidism and relapses were just excuses. "You can't be feeling X!"
Oh yes, I look and act like a zombie because I think it's REALLY hot. And hey, it's just terminal illness when untreated, nothing as serious as your blood pressure... no, no.
And it had been WAY too difficult to Google what it is all about...

He claims he hasn't disowned his son, still his words tell different language. If not disown then he willingly abandons his son. By the sound of it. Or maybe I have suddenly lost my ability to completely understand English.
Oh, of course! It's because I am a liar... how I forgot that? It's one of my lies, you see, that, he has ever said anything like it.

I can emphatise his situation, but obviously he can't do the same when it comes to me. I am a bad, bad person and by the sound of it go to Hell because of this. At least it is warm in there. (Thank G-d that deity I believe in isn't such an asshole.)

He also said that he had been prepared to this (did I say that he just wanted me to do the dirty job?! Did I?!)... and still he accuses me of all the usual stuff bitter people usually do at this point.
I always thought that he would be more mature than that. That he wouldn't let his son suffer because he is angry to me, but it seems to me that he will let his innocent son suffer because I am so evil.
One would imagine that any person in their right mind would understand that if he doesn't stay in contact with Boy he won't have a son who is too fond of his father when Boy comes of age.

I admit, I am not flawless and I did leave him in a very tacky way, but I always thought he would be man enough to behave regardless of the situation (for Pete's sake, even Dan was able to behave even I left him the same way). Apparently I was wrong... really wrong.

Funny thing? Because of the situation I seem to be able to stay at home until Boy is three, without working part-time, as Boy and I, we get 200 euros more every month now. And housing allowance. We seem to have almost 1000€ between us every month. After rent. (After I apply for housing allowance.)

SALitis

I have said it several times and I say it now: it's an illness. SALitis, or startitis for that matter.

There's a SAL of "Quaker Christmas II - Songs Of The Season" starting at TSSSDDDC and I can feel my resistance weakening...



Funny thing is that I never have liked the design much because of the texts and boring muted colours in the model picture, but now I find myself wanting to stitch it - and, because it takes a ton of hand-dyed floss, to dye my own floss. A ton of it as I really can't decide do I want it in shades of red or blue.

Maybe royal blue with dark red accents? Or to go with my current insanity: turquoise and pink. *grin*
Or maybe bright pink or turquoise on black... over one, naturally.

Yes, I am slightly insane. Luckily only slightly.

One door closes...

This is one of my "None one knows except you guys" entries. The exception being my mom. So... keep your mouths shut elsewhere. It's not official yet. (Editorial note: since the divorce has gone through I made some of separation related entries public.

I have always said that I am marrying type, but I am beginning to think that I am not that type that stays married - despite her idealised wishes.

You probably see where this is going.

My camel broke its back and I have asked Husband to pack his bags. Something I though I'd never do, something I wasn't actively considering before his latest tirade, but never say never should obviously be my motto.

In certain sense this is not a surprising move, as, even no one knows, I did ponder about leaving just before I got pregnant with Boy as I was feeling that my needs weren't listened to and I was increasingly unhappy with my life. Then I found out I was expecting and all the happy pregnancy hormones started to do their magic.

I was alone since about 21st week of pregnancy, first for a reason, then for a reason unbeknownst to me. Even I asked he didn't tell it.
When Boy was about 2 months old I had a dream where he left for some insanely childish reason. I am known to have premonitions about my relationships, they foresee the fail. Still, I decided it was only a dream and that's it (and I couldn't have told Mr. W. (let him carry that name from now on) about it as he had said I was calling bad spirits and I shouldn't talk about things like that).

Then I tell you that I haven't seen him since mid-pregnancy. He hasn't met his son, Boy hasn't met his father. They were deemed to meet, but this evil woman prevented it.
Because of Mr. W.'s latest tirade.

He has this annoying habit of controlling me. It was sweet and all when we met and so on, but it had a nasty side effect: threats of leaving me right there and then when I missed his call(s). Sometimes I was accused of cheating, as he knew that part of my history.
And since Boy was born I have missed many calls because I have been with Boy (playing/ feeding/ changing/ all those things you do with babies) and my cell phone hasn't. Or we have been out and I haven't heard. Or we have been sleeping and my phone has been on silent - to let Boy to sleep. And even I explained and have told him that he was not my first priority anymore as there is a small baby who needs me more than he does. Still I was told that I have changed.

No shit Sherlock! I became a mother in March in case you missed that.

And for a long, long time I have felt there is no room for me when he was here. That I had to be somewhere playing as small and quiet as possible. And if I happened to glance his laptop's screen it was something dreadful.
I felt that it wasn't my home even it was and is. But if I tried to talk with him about it or anything else considering us or my wishes or feelings it ended up me feeling even worse and we never talked.

Not feeling comfortable at my own home also meant no stitching as I need a comfortable place for it.

There are thousand things... like always noticing and being nasty about it if I had gained a little weight, but never encouraging when I lost weight. Or telling that I was just basically lazy and hypocondriac when I tried to explain that my lack of doing stuff was all about my thyroid.

Things were piling up in my little head. Understandably. But love makes us blind.

Well, his last tirade was about me not picking up a phone or returning his call. "That call came from an anonymous number, how did you expect I know it was you?" And he knows that I never answer to anonymous numbers if I am not expecting a call from one. Because usually they are telesalesmen.
He got frantic and while at it denied his own son, in my eyes, and me, threatened with leaving for good and made me understand that it can't go on. Not anymore. Not with Boy around. That it had to stop.

I thought about it for two days and went through his words over and over again to find what I missed, that I was wrong. Never found it. And then I asked him to pack.

Understandably in his opinion I had misunderstood him grossly and was lying (ah, again. I am SUCH a liar, you know. If you listen to him.... and then he claims he never said so), but still he didn't make a single move to try to convince me otherwise, even I gave the opportunity to him on a silver platter... and I don't know a single person who hadn't even tried to change my mind had they been in that situation. Which does, in my sick mind at least, that he wasn't much opposed to leaving, he just wanted that I do the dirty job.

It is slowly sinking in that there is a big, dark forest of custody arguments and bureaucracy ahead of me, but at least I can ensure Boy balanced environment.

It's funny really... some time ago I found myself thinking that if I wasn't married and didn't want kids I would be completely happy without a relationship screwing up my life.
The problem lies in wanting kids. I still want more of them... but that's not this year's thing, no the following one's (Luckily I still have time). Now I'll concentrate on practical things and try to find Boy and me a bigger apartment and start life all over again.

August Weekend Stitch-A-Long

It has been a LONG time since I have managed to participate any stitching activities... But better late than never!

Beginning...

OOOPS! Wrong WIP picture! Now corrected!

... and the end.

Power of those funny little presumptions

It's funny really...

I was out in the town with Boy some time ago when I happened to stumble upon ex-husband.
Who didn't recognize me before I greeted him and even then he knew it was me because of the necklace I use. (It's not that common to use necklace with Hebrew word in it in my neck of the woods.)

And he didn't realize the most obvious thing: that I was pushing a pram, a big "combo" pram (Attack carts we call 'em here) as he asked what I am doing nowadays... I had to point out that this is what I am doing nowadays, pushing a pram and living life with a certain charming little man. It was like he hadn't even noticed that big black thing in front of me. As it is a baby thing and not something I could ever push around.

What makes it funny, or rather interesting, was that his brain had obviously categorized me as "barren" after those years we TTC. Even he knew that basically the problem wasn't THAT big... (and then few years later, thyroxine came along and changed the whole thing).

It's funny how I used to think that he's not stuck into categories or anything like that... even after I came to my senses back in 2004.

Though what makes me wonder is that didn't he really recognize the face he was married with for almost six years (and I still look almost the same, by the way) or did that pram really mes his little head THAT badly.
Life's little questions...

Birth Sampler: Branching Out

Boy and I are vacationing so I have been, much to my surprise, more or less offline last few days.

But, I have managed some stitching during evenings when Boy has been sleeping. (We have a great sleeper in our midst.)

It seems that I may actually get this done before Boy turns 18.