I turned 45 a couple of weeks ago and started to think about my life.
I used to be a little girl with a mother a father a brother and a sister.
Now I am a mother a nanna and soon to be mother in law.
everyone who was part of my family as a child is gone. the man who I thought was my dad has passed away, my mother has not spoken with me for 10 yrs the feeling is mutual, my brother out of some misguided loyalty to my mother has stayed silent and we have lost touch for the same amount of time.
My sister who had always been my one constant in life is no longer my friend,my choice, as I had to choose between her and my daughter, who for some reason she had a pathological hatred for almost since the day she was born, she has always denied this but I could see it even if I tried to turn a blind eye to it, she was always quick to criticize her, always took my side when she was behaving badly. She would hold on to a grudge long after I had forgiven and forgot, she justified her bullying of my daughter as defending me.
She couldn't see that her behavior towards my daughter was not normal constantly goading and sniping at her getting in little digs and then hitting the roof if she dared to retaliate or answer back with a snipe of her own. Leaving her out of family celebrations, humiliating her every chance she got. Gloating whenever she had bad luck, like she somehow deserved it.
When her behavior started to affect my grand children I pulled the plug and quietly ended my relationship with my sister 2 years ago.
I wonder why I have this ability to turn my back on people without remorse, I feel sad that all these people are gone, but not because I miss them but because I feel I missed out on what a mother should have been, or how a sister should be.Or what it was like to live in a normal family where people loved and respected each other
and would stick together like glue no matter what.
I wonder will it ever change, I love my children and idolize my grandchildren and feel sorry for the people missing out on knowing them, and I feel sad for the little girl I used to be full of hope and dreams, and wish I could pull up just one happy memory from my childhood but I really don't think there are any ?
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
Saturday, 10 September 2011
Blood is thicker than Water?
I left the home in London when I was about 3 and a half. I can remember the train station like it was yesterday. I was in a pushchair with my Mummy and my new Daddy and my sister was in another pram a big silver cross coach one. We were going to Liverpool which was where Mummy and new Daddy lived in a lovely big flat with a garden.
I was absolutely terrified if the space between the train and the platform and screamed blue murder when they lifted my pushchair to put it on the train, I just knew I was going to fall in the gap and it was going to swallow me up. It didn't of course I was fine and we all arrived in Liverpool safely, but not before a few sharp slaps on my legs for "creating over nothing" that was the first sign that my mother was not perfect.
The flat was a basement flat near Croxteth park it was very dark and didn't smell very nice but the garden was lovely and to a 3 yr old was a huge playground to play in. My mother took me and my sisters to a local dress maker and had us kitted out with pairs of matching dresses, and we had matching shoes and coats etc people thought we were twins as we were practically the same size, but it was my sister who everyone commented on and " Oh it was a shame we weren't identical wasn't it a pity for the plain one?" My mother never corrected anyone who assumed we were twins which looking back was a bit strange. Kinder people would say my sister was bonny now but I would be a looker when I grew into myself but I knew they were just trying to make me feel better.
My Mother was heavily pregnant with my little brother when we moved into a brand new house in the New Town where they where building all the factories and my Dad had got himself a job in the glass works as a fitter/repairman so when i was 4 we move from Liverpool to the New Town.
I don't know where my Mother and My Dad had gone, I just remember me and my sister were alone in the flat and everything was packed to move, my sister had started to cry and for some reason I decided she must have tummy ache, so I found the "medicine" and gave her some to make her feel better she must have been about 2 and I was just turned 4 she had a few spoonfuls and stopped crying I forgot all about it and mother and dad came back with fish and chips for everyone we were all happily tucking in when my sister started to vomit, I asked mother if I should get some more medicine and all hell broke loose, the bottle was found and it wasnt medecine but furniture polish and I had fed it to my sister, its all a bit of a blur from then, Ambulance hospital doctors etc, my mother laughing with the nurses at what a scamp I was, everything was fine but my sister had to stay in overnight just to be safe.
We got home and into the front door and my mother went mental raining blows all over me swearing and calling me god knows what kind of stupid bitch and everything else, my dad pulled her off and put me to bed and told me not to worry everything would be fine in the morning.
In the morning I couldn't open my eyes and my mother was crying and saying how sorry she was and she loved me so much it was never going to happen again I was her special little girl her first born and she was so so sorry.
I found out as I was growing up that my mother lies A LOT!
I was absolutely terrified if the space between the train and the platform and screamed blue murder when they lifted my pushchair to put it on the train, I just knew I was going to fall in the gap and it was going to swallow me up. It didn't of course I was fine and we all arrived in Liverpool safely, but not before a few sharp slaps on my legs for "creating over nothing" that was the first sign that my mother was not perfect.
The flat was a basement flat near Croxteth park it was very dark and didn't smell very nice but the garden was lovely and to a 3 yr old was a huge playground to play in. My mother took me and my sisters to a local dress maker and had us kitted out with pairs of matching dresses, and we had matching shoes and coats etc people thought we were twins as we were practically the same size, but it was my sister who everyone commented on and " Oh it was a shame we weren't identical wasn't it a pity for the plain one?" My mother never corrected anyone who assumed we were twins which looking back was a bit strange. Kinder people would say my sister was bonny now but I would be a looker when I grew into myself but I knew they were just trying to make me feel better.
My Mother was heavily pregnant with my little brother when we moved into a brand new house in the New Town where they where building all the factories and my Dad had got himself a job in the glass works as a fitter/repairman so when i was 4 we move from Liverpool to the New Town.
I don't know where my Mother and My Dad had gone, I just remember me and my sister were alone in the flat and everything was packed to move, my sister had started to cry and for some reason I decided she must have tummy ache, so I found the "medicine" and gave her some to make her feel better she must have been about 2 and I was just turned 4 she had a few spoonfuls and stopped crying I forgot all about it and mother and dad came back with fish and chips for everyone we were all happily tucking in when my sister started to vomit, I asked mother if I should get some more medicine and all hell broke loose, the bottle was found and it wasnt medecine but furniture polish and I had fed it to my sister, its all a bit of a blur from then, Ambulance hospital doctors etc, my mother laughing with the nurses at what a scamp I was, everything was fine but my sister had to stay in overnight just to be safe.
We got home and into the front door and my mother went mental raining blows all over me swearing and calling me god knows what kind of stupid bitch and everything else, my dad pulled her off and put me to bed and told me not to worry everything would be fine in the morning.
In the morning I couldn't open my eyes and my mother was crying and saying how sorry she was and she loved me so much it was never going to happen again I was her special little girl her first born and she was so so sorry.
I found out as I was growing up that my mother lies A LOT!
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Blood is thicker than water? 1
I have been told that I come from a large family. Gypsies ( more likely irish tinkers)on my fathers side and a respectable middle class family on my mothers side.
I think this is true but I have no way of knowing for sure.
I never knew my father or my numerous half siblings if my mothers drunken ramblings are to be believed.
I spent my first few years in a notorious childrens home in a suburb of london, from the age of about 18mths until I was about 3 and a half. Funnily enough I can remember that place and I can remember I was there with my sister who cant have been more than a few weeks old when we were first sent there.
I can remember a strange couple coming to visit me and my sister who were introduced as Mummy and my new Daddy.
I remember the home as a stinking rotten place where I was slapped and kicked probably on a daily basis for some misdemeanor or another,or sometimes on occassion just for looking sly or ugly and that was just the staff.
My sister was a little beauty and the apple of everybodys eye with lovely creamy skin and huge blue eyes and a lovely sunny disposition. Even at the tender age of 2 I knew I was scrawny and cross eyed and the ugliest child anyone had ever laid eyes on.
I loved my sister as much as everyone else did, but most of the time I couldnt get near her she was always in somebodys arms being cossetted and played with, I can remember trying to sleep under her cot just to be near her but I was always found out and flung back into my own room usually with a slap or a pinch to go with it.
I have often asked my Mother why we were there and got a couple of different stories the first one was she had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized and we were taken against her will, but later she would say she left us with her older sister to look for work and then she dumped us there and it took her years to get us back neither story I dont think were entirely true but then I dont think my Mother would recognise the truth if it jumped up and hit her in the mush either.
to be continued....
I think this is true but I have no way of knowing for sure.
I never knew my father or my numerous half siblings if my mothers drunken ramblings are to be believed.
I spent my first few years in a notorious childrens home in a suburb of london, from the age of about 18mths until I was about 3 and a half. Funnily enough I can remember that place and I can remember I was there with my sister who cant have been more than a few weeks old when we were first sent there.
I can remember a strange couple coming to visit me and my sister who were introduced as Mummy and my new Daddy.
I remember the home as a stinking rotten place where I was slapped and kicked probably on a daily basis for some misdemeanor or another,or sometimes on occassion just for looking sly or ugly and that was just the staff.
My sister was a little beauty and the apple of everybodys eye with lovely creamy skin and huge blue eyes and a lovely sunny disposition. Even at the tender age of 2 I knew I was scrawny and cross eyed and the ugliest child anyone had ever laid eyes on.
I loved my sister as much as everyone else did, but most of the time I couldnt get near her she was always in somebodys arms being cossetted and played with, I can remember trying to sleep under her cot just to be near her but I was always found out and flung back into my own room usually with a slap or a pinch to go with it.
I have often asked my Mother why we were there and got a couple of different stories the first one was she had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized and we were taken against her will, but later she would say she left us with her older sister to look for work and then she dumped us there and it took her years to get us back neither story I dont think were entirely true but then I dont think my Mother would recognise the truth if it jumped up and hit her in the mush either.
to be continued....
Thursday, 3 February 2011
Moaning
I moan A LOT, lots of little things annoy me and I am the type of person who just cant keep my mouth shut.I wonder if anyone else has the same problem? the things that annoy me most in order of annoyance, bad parents, bad driving,bad parking,children in adult areas of the gym, shop staff who give rude/ indifferent service, rudeness and bad manners in general.
I came to the realization recently, that I am a grumpy old woman, a female Victor Meldrew and I don't know when it happened.
My husband is long suffering and puts up with it most of the time, but he has on occasion been heard to mutter under his breath,for me to give it a rest.
I don't understand why moaning is a problem it is an instant complaint of whatever is annoying me at that particular moment in time,its over and forgotten about as soon as it's off my chest, and it is a release for my frustration and nothing is bottled up to explode later on.
Because of my moaning people sometimes seem to get the wrong impression of me and think that I am either miserable or angry all the time, I am neither. I am quite contented with my lot and most of the time I'm reasonably happy.
I know it annoys people but I don't know how to stop as it is an unconscious reflex and I have opened my mouth before my brain is in gear. I wish I knew how to stop but if I bottled it all up, I might just end up punching someone instead,
I came to the realization recently, that I am a grumpy old woman, a female Victor Meldrew and I don't know when it happened.
My husband is long suffering and puts up with it most of the time, but he has on occasion been heard to mutter under his breath,for me to give it a rest.
I don't understand why moaning is a problem it is an instant complaint of whatever is annoying me at that particular moment in time,its over and forgotten about as soon as it's off my chest, and it is a release for my frustration and nothing is bottled up to explode later on.
Because of my moaning people sometimes seem to get the wrong impression of me and think that I am either miserable or angry all the time, I am neither. I am quite contented with my lot and most of the time I'm reasonably happy.
I know it annoys people but I don't know how to stop as it is an unconscious reflex and I have opened my mouth before my brain is in gear. I wish I knew how to stop but if I bottled it all up, I might just end up punching someone instead,
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