Mixed bag.

Apologies for my absence over the weekend, but I'd been kind of barred from using the laptop, since that's all I do all day...

It's been a mixed bag of a weekend, and it's probably better that I hadn't been able to write my ramblings down because they would have been scathing, but I've had chance to calm down and they'll be more balanced for it - I think...

The euphoria of the driving licence testy thing at the Consultant's on Thursday kind of wore off mid Friday afternoon. It dipped a little by evening but was tolerable, but by crikey it more than made up for it over the weekend. Saturday was ok. I was expecting Saturday to be a tad tense because I had to take Biggey to a Cadet thing that started at 3pm but we weren't going to be home until about midnight (we were parking cars at a concert, and because we were doing that we were given wristbands to go and see the concert, hence the lateness). Now he had been lovely. I'd made pizzas for lunch and tea for when I wasn't there, and he was lovely. He stood in the garden trimming a couple of bushes and nattering to our neighbours. Fine. I tidied up the mess I'd made in the kitchen making the pizzas and tea, made a packed lunch (tea really) for Biggey and I, made sure there was plenty milk and provisions and off we tootled. We got home before we turned into pumpkins and by gum he was cross with me. I hadn't done this, I hadn't done that, I was a useless wife - the usual, so I went to bed to get out of any further rollockings.

This worked until Sunday morning. He decided we were going to go and get things to extend the bench in the kitchen and off we tootled. Half way round Homebase it began in ernest. I was stupid, I was thick, I was fat, I was ugly, I was a useless wife and I was ready to stuff him behind one of the doors on display and walk home. The woman at the counter wasn't amused when hubby burst out laughing when she offered to add an Alzheimer's trolley coin to the bill. "It's for a good cause you know", followed by more laughing. I just closed my eyes and waited for the change. The ranting continued in the car but louder and I cried all the way home.

Middley and I made Fig and Toffee puddings and we had a lovely time the two of us, but once that was done he began again, when I say began it never really stopped, but he did pause for breath. He didn't love me. I was told "fu*k you", to which I, stupidly, said "no thanks". Well he was off (must learn to keep mouth shut, must learn to keep mouth shut). "Fu*k you? I wouldn't touch you with a barge pole. You're fat, you're ugly, you're not very sexually attractive and you smell" was the response to that. "I don't love you" just finished me off. I just cried. No noise, no sobs, just tears running down my face. He decided he'd had enough and I was getting thrown out, but when I asked him to go and get me the suitcase from the loft he wouldn't. He didn't care where I lived, and bin bags would be good enough, but then he asked me to make him a coffee and throwing me out seemed to be forgotten about.

After tea and the dishes and the tidying I sat down whilst he was on the phone. I looked over at him and he caught my eye. He winked and smiled at me and for a brief moment hubby was there. My handsome (and he is handsome), lovely husband and he gave me goosebumps. Twenty years of knowing him and he can still give me goosebumps, when he's hubby, and it was peaceful until this morning.

He hadn't set his alarm this morning so I didn't have the forty minutes of a wagon reversing through the bedroom and we all slept in. Mad panic and rushing about and hubby deciding to get up and hound us on and get involved in making an argument and calling me all the names under the sun and once the girls went to school I was told that I had to leave, but I wasn't allowed the girls. He'd keep them. That's twice he's done that this weekend. Twice he's told me I'm out, but both times there's been a reason that would make me stay (because believe it or not, after this weekend, if I'd had somewhere to go I would have skipped there).

I think this whole drama was caused by me not being here on Saturday night. He doesn't like it when I'm not about - it's something that I've often thought, but even the girls say it. "It's like daddy's lost when you're not here". I don't go out often. I don't leave him often. He wants me to get a job. He wants to throw me out of the house, yet when it boils down to it, he wants me here. Whether that's to shout at and tell me I'm not doing anything, or to help him with the tape measure measurements because they confuse him (although don't tell him I said that), but at the end of the day for all he hates me and doesn't love me that's my "other hubby" talking. Not the one I married, and that is what keeps me here, because for all "other hubby" is more present at the moment, my hubby puts in appearances, and when he's here it's lovely.