clean the house from
top to bottom back then seemed a luxury, not that I ever did clean from top to
bottom. I’ve only ever done what was necessary, if I found a cobweb I got rid
of it, but I never went looking for them. I derived great pleasure from not having
my mother’s anal obsession with cleanliness.
Eddie’s assurance that he was fully prepared to help now we had two
children, lasted about five minutes. His first dirty nappy had him running for
cover. OK, it was a bad one. Sam had obviously decided it would be fun to
store up and then evacuate his bowels in one fell swoop. The resultant mess
was a shock to Eddie’s system.
‘Are they supposed to do that much?’ he asked, while holding his nose as
I was cleaning poo from halfway up Sam’s back.
‘Well it’s a natural bodily function, so I would assume so.’ I was
getting really fed up with Eddie’s lily-livered approach to fatherhood.
That set the pattern for Eddie’s interaction with the kids. So long as I
had them pre-washed, pre-packed and ready to go, he was fine. The merest hint
of a “jobby” (his word), would cause his migration to his study until the coast
was clear.
I, on the other hand, embraced motherhood with gusto. If any of the
drawbacks became anything more than a passing thought, I found I only had to
watch the babies in their cots at night to set my world to rights. Their soft
pink faces relaxed in sleep could evoke a completely ungovernable strength of
emotion that often had me close to tears. Toby’s chubby fists tucked under his
chin or Sam’s gentle sucking sounds as he slept never failed to touch me on a
spiritual level. To me, their sleeping beauty had an ethereal quality. Not so
during daylight hours though. Yellow poo, green snot and tantrums, tended to
spoil things a bit.
When Toby was three, it became glaring obvious that my hastily patched
over marriage was in crisis. I was sure Eddie (the bastard), was having an
affair. Can you believe it? OK, I have to accept some of the blame – I
think. While enjoying the joys of motherhood, it would be fair to say I took
my eyes off the prize. Do this at your peril people – you need to stroke men’s
egos, bodies and balding heads on a regular basis to keep them both focused and
faithful. If you fail in this fundamental rule, I’m afraid you, like me, will
have no one to blame but yourselves.
All right, I admit unreservedly, my wifely allure was definitely on an
unchecked downward trajectory. In fact, I was barely keeping my head above
apathetic extinction; I had in all areas, barring motherhood, withdrawn from
life. Without me noticing, work and the women therein, had become Eddie’s
panacea for the shortcomings of our life together.
In the end, I locked myself in the dining room and phoned Alison. She
and Mark had married two years previously after the birth of their son, Luke,
and we remained as close as ever.
‘How fucking dare he, Alison?’ I ranted. ‘I mean does it
really matter that I’ve given up trying to squeeze my size twelve arse into my
size ten jeans?’
‘No of course…’
‘And why shouldn’t I wear comfy clothes round the house…well
not just round the house, I do tend to wear them most of the time now, but so
what?
‘Exactly Katie, so…’
‘I mean for God’s sake Alison, is it a crime punishable by
adultery to prefer flip-flops to four inch heels? I think not!’
‘I agree, but Eddie obviously has other ideas, do you know
who she is?’ said Alison.
‘Not a clue, but I will find out.’
‘Right, well keep me posted, I’ll have to go Luke is howling
for his bottle, but you know where I am if you need me.’
‘Thanks Alison, I’m sorry to drop all this in your lap, but
top to bottom back then seemed a luxury, not that I ever did clean from top to
bottom. I’ve only ever done what was necessary, if I found a cobweb I got rid
of it, but I never went looking for them. I derived great pleasure from not having
my mother’s anal obsession with cleanliness.
Eddie’s assurance that he was fully prepared to help now we had two
children, lasted about five minutes. His first dirty nappy had him running for
cover. OK, it was a bad one. Sam had obviously decided it would be fun to
store up and then evacuate his bowels in one fell swoop. The resultant mess
was a shock to Eddie’s system.
‘Are they supposed to do that much?’ he asked, while holding his nose as
I was cleaning poo from halfway up Sam’s back.
‘Well it’s a natural bodily function, so I would assume so.’ I was
getting really fed up with Eddie’s lily-livered approach to fatherhood.
That set the pattern for Eddie’s interaction with the kids. So long as I
had them pre-washed, pre-packed and ready to go, he was fine. The merest hint
of a “jobby” (his word), would cause his migration to his study until the coast
was clear.
I, on the other hand, embraced motherhood with gusto. If any of the
drawbacks became anything more than a passing thought, I found I only had to
watch the babies in their cots at night to set my world to rights. Their soft
pink faces relaxed in sleep could evoke a completely ungovernable strength of
emotion that often had me close to tears. Toby’s chubby fists tucked under his
chin or Sam’s gentle sucking sounds as he slept never failed to touch me on a
spiritual level. To me, their sleeping beauty had an ethereal quality. Not so
during daylight hours though. Yellow poo, green snot and tantrums, tended to
spoil things a bit.
When Toby was three, it became glaring obvious that my hastily patched
over marriage was in crisis. I was sure Eddie (the bastard), was having an
affair. Can you believe it? OK, I have to accept some of the blame – I
think. While enjoying the joys of motherhood, it would be fair to say I took
my eyes off the prize. Do this at your peril people – you need to stroke men’s
egos, bodies and balding heads on a regular basis to keep them both focused and
faithful. If you fail in this fundamental rule, I’m afraid you, like me, will
have no one to blame but yourselves.
All right, I admit unreservedly, my wifely allure was definitely on an
unchecked downward trajectory. In fact, I was barely keeping my head above
apathetic extinction; I had in all areas, barring motherhood, withdrawn from
life. Without me noticing, work and the women therein, had become Eddie’s
panacea for the shortcomings of our life together.
In the end, I locked myself in the dining room and phoned Alison. She
and Mark had married two years previously after the birth of their son, Luke,
and we remained as close as ever.
‘How fucking dare he, Alison?’ I ranted. ‘I mean does it
really matter that I’ve given up trying to squeeze my size twelve arse into my
size ten jeans?’
‘No of course…’
‘And why shouldn’t I wear comfy clothes round the house…well
not just round the house, I do tend to wear them most of the time now, but so
what?
‘Exactly Katie, so…’
‘I mean for God’s sake Alison, is it a crime punishable by
adultery to prefer flip-flops to four inch heels? I think not!’
‘I agree, but Eddie obviously has other ideas, do you know
who she is?’ said Alison.
‘Not a clue, but I will find out.’
‘Right, well keep me posted, I’ll have to go Luke is howling
for his bottle, but you know where I am if you need me.’
‘Thanks Alison, I’m sorry to drop all this in your lap, but
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