Category: Relationships

Mean..

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

My ex is tightening the screws on me in order to inflict even more pain. I am past feeling any more hurt from him, but I am getting extremely angry with his low-life revenge tactics. It has been a week since our divorce, and according to our consent papers he is supposed to pay me a lump sum within seven days from the date of divorce. The lump sum is actually my money which I paid over to him last August, and for sure he is sticking to the letter of the law and paying it over, but at the eleventh hour.. seven days almost to the second from the date of our divorce. So today I get this great message informing me that so and so has paid into my account my maintenance and the lump sum. I am now waiting until this windfall reflects on my actual finances.
In the meantime I have all these bills to pay: My rent, the balance of the lawyer’s bill, and many other obligations. Yes, he is doing this on purpose, otherwise why would he pay his portion of the lawyer’s bill immediately and leave me and his son to suffer for the extra week? Yes, he cares, very much.

In my official blog posts I only write a diluted version of the events, and Mr. Fakeman takes pleasure in sending me the poisonous reaction of his family to what I write. Only one family member showed a little bit of understanding to the hurt that I am feeling.
I sent my ex-in-laws a link to some photos I took of my son since I moved out and I copied him on the mail, asking everyone to respect that my baby blog has turned a little personal because of what is happening. My naivety unleashed an avalanche of emails from my ex. He who has mastered the art of ignoring me, whom I have to ask at least twice if I needed him to look after our son, at the times when the nanny isn’t available; started to send me an email every day forwarding me vile comments from his family. They do not know me, they can never judge. And I dare say that they only think they know him.

Last Sunday he sent his family pictures of my son, to mark his nine months birthday. His mother said that mine weren’t half as good. Of course they weren’t. Mine are just snapshots that happened spontaneously. The few shots I was in show me, as an unkempt, tired, and wild eyed woman – not surprising considering my circumstances and the fact that I was holding baby and camera as well. His pictures, in contrast, are carefully staged to look good. His friend/girlfriend must have taken them, so he was able to relax and concentrate on the way the look of “love” should be reflected through the blind camera lens. Yes, the camera doesn’t lie, only he does. I haven’t seen the picture but they were described to me, and since I misread his photos before, I now believe that people transfer their own emotions to the images. Our perception of facial expression are not always accurate, that’s for sure.
Yes, let the whole world know that I am resentful. I am writing this down in order to remember how unfair and fake this man was -and still is- towards me. Because I am the type of person who quickly forgets the injustices they suffer at the hands of others. This time I won’t forget.

On the few occasions he showed up to pick our son, I couldn’t help but notice his fresh appearance, the new haircut and the new shirts. In the meantime I stand before him in my cereal stained clothes, my hair that badly needs styling and new highlights, and my general appearance of fatigue and dejection. For sure he does have enough money for polishing his image, and he has enough money to go on excursions north of the city with his “interesting friends” but he cannot spare the money to pay me and his son our dues in time. I cannot and will not forgive him ever, and god help him if one day I gained the upper hand.

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The Anticlimax of Divorce

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

Ron wasn’t so happy a few months ago when I started blogging tidbits that did not concern Robert directly. He said that this blog is about the baby and it should not be concerned with our personal life. I see things differently, and I feel what I am going through is also part of Robert’s life. In fact I blog about these experiences to put things in perspective, and to remember how lucky I am to have him at this point in my life.

Yesterday was a tough day for me. I was working as I always do every 2nd Sunday, because these are the days when Ron showed some willingness to “babysit” for me as I try to fill my quota of working hours. A friend called me at work to tell me that she spotted Ron with his girlfriend in front of our old flat, they were fussing over Robert in his pram. It hit me like a stab in the heart. When I closely examined my misery, I clearly identified it as sorrow for myself and my situation. Ron will find it very easy to move on, and god knows this city is full of single and available women. Whereas as a single mother of a young baby, I would score very low on the eligibility meter. The fact that I might never find a mate does not bother me at all, only the inferiority -and difficulty- of my position in comparison to Ron’s. Difficulty however is a property of being a mother as he once pointed out to me, not so gently.

It’s completely irrelevant to me whether Ron’s companion yesterday was a girlfriend or just a platonic friend who was helping him choose a new car seat for Robert, as he told me later. In fact, it is nothing to me, because as of tomorrow he will be a free man. But I am only human and perhaps my pain from what I heard was what led to our argument as he gave me and Robert a lift home. The crux of the argument was money as usual, and I am sure it will come to play between us many times in the future. The first ex-wife hasn’t finished arguing with him about this subject either.

Although he shouted at me that he will not “babysit” again for me. I was grateful that he did come to pick up Robert today and give me a lift into town. Otherwise, I would have had to take Robert to divorce court with me. The hearing for the divorce was scheduled for this morning at the High Court. My lawyer phoned yesterday to say that he wasn’t going to attend with me in court, and a trainee attorney was going to do it instead; A Muslim woman by the sound of her name. My case was so simple so I did not mind, besides the woman’s name translates as “the honest one” and to me this was auspicious. When I met her I was shocked by how young and pretty she was. She was pregnant, and expecting a baby boy in September, so we had lots to talk about. When we arrived at the advocates offices I was again handed over to one of the young guard. Perhaps it was just as well, as this put me at ease. Another auspicious name I thought when the advocate introduced himself with a biblical first name and a surname reminiscent of my son’s. The advocate explained the process to me since my case was going to be heard first in the roll of divorces. All the time the attorney and the advocates fussed over me to make sure that I wasn’t nervous.

I tried to tell myself that I was not nervous, but I was in fact preoccupied. Otherwise I would have taken much more in of my visit to the High Court. Something that I am not likely to do again in this lifetime, I hope. I do not know what route we took or how we got there, because I was busy talking a mile a minute. We arrived at the court room, the honest one explained the setting. The judge arrived shortly before ten and we all rose; he looked familiar. I was sure I have seen the honorable judge on television passing judgment on a high profile criminal case. The court was in session at 10:00 and I was out of there just before 11:30 .. a single woman. I was number 24 on the roll, but first the judge dealt with all the postponement requests, then the remaining cases were heard in order. None of the arguments took more than ten minutes so my turn came quickly. Unlike legal dramas on television, legal work is mostly accomplished outside of the courtroom. The judge had obviously studied all cases carefully because he asked all the pertinent questions. Matters of insolvency, debt and property registration were dispensed with first and then the judge turned to the divorces.

I was called to the witness box. After taking the oath I was asked to verify my details, the details of my marriage, and Robert’s birth date. I was asked to identify my signature and Ron’s on the consent agreement. Then the advocate asked the judge to grant a decree of divorce. The only question the judge asked me was if I worked. I answered that I worked part time. He then asked who looked after Robert while I was at work, and I said that he had a nanny. I should have addressed the judge as my lord, but I just gave straight answers and forgot to append my respectful address. I thought that Ron might have had a scathing comment about this if he had been attending. The judge granted the divorce and I was dismissed. The whole process took less than five minutes.

I returned to my honest attorney. She gave me a sunny smile and said: Congratulations. It felt really strange to be congratulated on something I did not feel really happy about. I was numb, I did not know how to feel. I still don’t.
Today was a brilliant and beautiful autumn day, the sky was clear and the sun warm. We walked back from the High Court to the lawyer’s office, and the honest one gave me a lift back home. I cannot complain about the way life is treating me; people are very supportive and I am endlessly grateful.
Jackie bought me a chocolate cake yesterday, and today there was a piece of blueberry cheesecake waiting for me. Ron dropped Robert off without a single comment, it is the shape of things to come I guess.

Still, there is some pain. As I was pushing Robert’s pram towards the park, I felt the sudden dejection and loss. I had a long relationship with Ron, and beyond the love I felt for him, and notwithstanding his lack of appreciation for me as a person, I gave him a deep and undivided commitment. It will take me some time to recover the person who dissolved into this long and rocky marriage.

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Tomorrow is Another Day

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

This afternoon, one day before our imminent divorce a fierce argument erupted between me and Mr. Negativity, the direct reason -as usual- was money. I was trying to work as usual on my dreaded Sunday shift when I got a phone call from my house mate. She spotted him and his girlfriend outside our erstwhile flat. The woman she said, is blond, beautiful and dressed to kill. So much different from frugal little me in my department store clothing. She was pushing the pram and then he caught up with her and they both started fussing over the little one as if they were his parents. I was shocked, hurt and so very angry. The nerve of the guy to be moving on so quickly. I knew deep down that I should not allow myself to be sucked into this type of resentful feeling. I was just feeling sorry for myself and my situation, but still I am only human and I can only react as one.

Later when he picked me up I tried to mention the incident as casually as possible, but the talk quickly turned sour. He said that his friend was helping him choose a new car seat for baby, since he has almost outgrown the little piccolo. The car seat is meant to be his way of reimbursing me for medical costs he incurred on my medical aid plan. Now if you bear in mind that I neither possess a car nor am I likely to afford one any time soon, you will see that his generous gesture is just a circuitous way to make me pay for something that he and only he uses.

When all this divorce talk started, I wasn’t quite as resentful and hurt as I am today. I think I under-estimated the type of pressure that I will be suffering under. Still, I was raised to focus on human values, not material ones. I agreed to every proposal Mr. Negativity made for me and baby and I shrugged off many unfair calculations that he came up with. At one moment of unreasonable magnanimity I might have said that I will not demand any child support. But child support is a legal requirement for granting divorce and the law demands putting an amount down. He set it pathetically low, and I agreed. Today I believe that this little contribution, however little, is not mine to give up, but when I voiced this opinion, Mr. Negativity went ballistic and thought I was threatening him.

I am sorry if I am sometimes too honest and too generous for my own good. I am sorry if I shoot from the hip and say exactly what I feel, without trying to pretend or cater for some hidden agenda. But I do not feel that I owe the man any consideration to his feelings. His financial situation is not what he says it is, and I am not going to stand by and watch him deprive my son from a few pennies, so that he can spend them on one of his outings. No, it is little enough as it is and he has to have enough self respect to keep it aside for his son. His response ?
Well I can forget about babysitting… Doesn’t he even care that these “babysitting” sessions are actually his visiting times with his son? No he said, and then bent over the child to say: Sorry baby, this is the type of mother you have (???). To me he said: “You are on your own”, then he snatched the new car seat from me, and drove away. I think he was shamed by his “friend” into buying an expensive one anyway. He will return it for sure.

I have no regular morning babysitter during on weekdays, and I had asked him weeks ago to sit with baby while I go get myself divorced. Now I faced the prospect of carrying my baby into divorce court tomorrow. When I sent him a text message later he said he will reconsider for Robert’s benefit. Now I do not know what to expect from Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge anymore. Will he still look after Robert during in mid June when my nanny is away ? Will he still take him to visit every other Sunday? I have no idea.  But I am willing to take a bet that he will want something in return. It is always about his convenience.

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Settling into a Routine

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

Today my computer arrived safely. Jackie helped carry it to and back from rehab at my favorite computer technician at the moment. I haven’t lost ANYTHING and to me this is a miracle. From here on my life will start to get some semblance of normalcy. I set up my computer workstation -again with Jackie’s help. It now occupies a corner of her desk, it is kind of cramped, but I cannot complain. I mean she could have easily said, she doesn’t want me using her work space, therefore I am eternally grateful. Living with Jackie is relatively easy. She does have her own set of rules, but they are nothing compared to the regimented style I was used to with my ex. The only problem we have is the limited space, and the need to find innovative ways of storing our things, while keeping them accessible at the same time. Some of my beloved book boxes ended up in the top shelf of the cupboard, where I need a step ladder to reach them, but there are plenty of books still on the ground, where I can easily get to them. My dictionaries are also close by ready for action when I finally get the elusive work I am half-heartedly looking for. I say that because I am still not all here, and reeling with the effects of my separation. It will take time until I am in a really productive frame of mind. In the meantime there are things to write about, feelings to deal with and finances to consider.
At the beginning of the month I received a date for my divorce case, and it is scheduled for Monday the 26th. This is the final nail in the coffin of my marriage, and I try not to dwell on it too much. Ron wanted me and Robert out of his hair, and I wanted to make the separation final and legal because I recognized -and he spelled it out to me- that he no longer wants to be with me. I see no point in staying married in name only, when there is absolutely no hope in reconciliation. I believe I did the right thing, and I will get used to the outcome.

Meanwhile life goes on. I try to go with Robert to the park on sunny days. The walk to the park is now much longer, but we both enjoy chilling there which makes it worth the effort. Here Robert also gets to socialize with some little friends. I like especially the little tomboy Nina, who loves playing in the dirt, and must be a handful to her patient nanny. I let Robert crawl around in the park and get down and dirty sometimes; this is vital to the learning process. Another thing that I want him to learn is interacting with animals. Jackie’s cat loves playing with him, and tolerates his rough handling – up to a point of course. He already received a swipe or two from her claw when he tugged too hard on her fur. Most of the time though they play or dance around each other, which is quite funny. Robert is starting to cruise; he walks from one side of the sofa to the other while holding on to its edge. He can also stand by himself for a few seconds. The interaction he has with me, Jackie, the cat and everyone else is much more lively and animated. Lucy enjoys being with him and he very comfortable around her. The few negatives that come to mind are a light episode of the flu, and some negative attitudes from Robert’s dad, but we will get over these in time.

Major Setback

~ marobbie ~ 2 Comments

A month after I moved in with Jackie, I finally got the chance to set up my computer on a corner of her desk in the spare room. After time consuming gymnastics, where we moved the desk around and tried to get the wiring in some semblance of order I was faced with the reality that my computer had turned into an electronic brick. My hard drive has completely crashed and I fear that I lost my whole history of work and life in the past two years. Unfortunately this came at a very critical point of my existence. I am just battling to keep my head over water personally and financially. I am trying hard not to get the resentment against my boy’s father get the better of me, but today I lost the battle and I experienced a complete meltdown. I am ashamed to say that I called Ron to dump my misery on him.

Ron told me that he has his own blog. I am sure he will have plenty of time and space to spin the story of his victimhood online, but I do not have this luxury. I don’t have the time to keep dwelling on his negative personality traits and the ways he ruined my life with his stingy and self-centered approach to life.

In the end I only got myself to blame. The realities of the person stared me in the face for seven years, until I could take it no more. Three years ago I left him and came to Cape Town with nothing but a suitcase and a few crates of books. But even then he still had the power over me. He spun a tale that my heart believed and I could not break free, not completely. My mind wanted to, but my heart couldn’t. To be honest I wanted to believe, I made excuses for him, to explain why he left his first wife and two children. I turned a blind eye when he complained about the few cents of child support he paid them. I pray for forgiveness every day, because I was indirectly party to this. I never told anyone that when I went ahead with marrying him, he was still technically married to his first wife. I briefly met the woman once, and it wasn’t pleasant. She gave him a piece of her mind, calling him a coward, because he was uncomfortable visiting his children. At the time I just brushed the outburst aside as the ramblings of a foul-mouthed, bitter and jealous female. Now I am thinking otherwise.

Financially perhaps, the first wife had a better deal than me. She had the support of her family, she made a home for her children in a first world country and I do not think she needed to work to make ends meet. For me, things are hard at the moment; I rent a room at a friend’s house and my salary from part-time work just pays for babysitting. Ron’s “generous” maintenance does not cover my other expenses. My computer was my livelihood, it earned me some very good money in the past two years. I invested most of it good naturedly in what I thought was my “reborn” marriage. I will get some of it back later. But whatever I invested in the first seven years is water under the bridge, of course. That includes the salaries I earned working at the garage, which went into my husband’s personal account. He says they paid for the house that I will end up getting, but I doubt that this is the way things work in a divorce. A wife who does not financially contribute ANYTHING is still entitled to half a share. But now I came at leaner times, when the stingy man’s wealth has diminished, and he doesn’t have the promise of a cushy expat retirement in his future anymore. I have to bear the consequences. In time things will improve, I will get money out of the divorce settlement and the sale of our assets. Financially, I will never be rich or even comfortable, but my life as a mom is so much richer and more rewarding.

Ron bargained with me long on the settlement of our divorce. Almost everyone I know tells me that I let him off easy, but I have no desire to waste my time, and sue him for every cent he owes me. I can walk away from the bitter feud, and spend my energies on my little one. Robert made me touch my deepest resources of love and commitment, while the demands of raising him exposed the critical flaws in his father’s soul. He simply isn’t father material. My own fortunate childhood has brought me here, I suppose. Because I was unable to understand that some parents have no qualms in putting their needs first. I did not think for one moment that Ron will turn his back on the chance to be a parent for a second time, because I believed that he regretted doing so in his first marriage.
My life has fallen apart completely, but I can still find strength and purpose in my son. Although at the moment I don’t know how this will be possible, I will turn my life around, for my son. I will give him the life and the childhood he deserves.
His dad can go on with his social life, live for the sole purpose of finding his solitary happiness. He was never happy, and I won’t be surprised if he never gets there. He may go on into a new relationship, but he will keep his egocentric priorities. I will teach myself to stop hurting, and stop caring for his fate. The only part of him that I care about resides in the same room with me.

One day I will re-read the early entries of this blog, where I never stopped singing the praises of a transformed and changed Ron, and I will forgive my gullible stupidity. As I write this I question the wisdom of keeping myself open to him and his family through this blog, when as early as January he started to close up on me, confide with close family and hang out with a constellation of “friends” I know nothing about. Then again I tell myself, I have nothing to hide.

I only ever had one face to show to the world, it is my true face, and my true colours. He is the one who keeps trying to play a part, convince himself that he is somebody brilliant, somebody misunderstood, and just a little bit down on his luck. Some other poor soul will take pity on him, as I did, and this person will be blinded into believing that he hasn’t diserved to reap what he had sown. He can go on doing this, indefinetely if he wants. As for me, I will keep my wounds open to the wind. Better for them to heal, and for the bleeding to stop. In fact, it already has.

Surviving the First Day

~ marobbie ~ 2 Comments

I am ready to drop off with exhaustion, but I feel like I have to write a few word. Today was tough, but baby and I survived. In my panic to get things done before I become officially homeless and transportless, I begged Mr. Negativity to take me and baby to the clinic as he was due for an immunization. The timing was perhaps not so good, but I knew I will be overwhelmed with many new things in my new place of residence, and I did not want baby’s immunization to slip through the cracks. Also I do not see myself calling Mr. Negativity for such things once I am done with him. He likes to think of himself as a benovelent benefactor, but I know better. I would rather call a cab and pay the exorbitant fare than put up with his sighs and complaints about “effort and expense”. Right or wrong, I decided to go ahead and give my baby the injection, and we both lived with the consequences.

Today was really a bad day. The child had a slight temperature and an obviously sore leg. He whined a lot and did not want to eat. His father was so anxious to get rid of us he actually helped drop off my boxes at the new place. He made THREE trips, which is phenomenal. Unfortunately in the confusion of the last trip I forgot a few bags in the garage, one containing baby food and formula. I only realised that much later when he had left.

On that final trip we had an argument as Mr. Negativity implied that the flat was now his and I should hand over the keys. I argued that I am leaving my computer and some household items he will carry on using and will only give him the keys when I take posession of my things. Well, that earned me again a storm of his temper and added to the agitation of my poor child strapped in the back of the car. On the one hand I feel like giving him the retort he deserves and on the other I know I need to keep quiet until this is over. I am buying myself out with silence.

Divorce is final he says and we are no longer married. I point out to him that as far as I am concerned nothing has been finalized yet. The consent papers are awaiting his signature and my bank account is hemorrhaging and will soon be no more. I haven’t seen a cent yet from the promised “generous” maintenance. I suppose when the guy married me he never counted on me becoming old enough to answer back. So now that it’s happening he cannot control his rage. This is the mood he left us in at our new home.

A bad day continued getting worse, when baby started acting up. Either the bad energy of dad or the injection’s side effects caused continous crying fits. Meanwhile I was trying to find and organize things in our new room. It was then that I realised that his bottle and formula were missing, but when I called Mr. Negativity he said: “No way I am going to deliver it, let your friend come and get it”, then hung up on me. I managed to keep the little one sustained with some breast milk, but he remained hungry and unhappy, and I was tied down and couldn’t leave to get the stuff. I swallowed my pride and tried phoning again and this time the mood was slightly better: “Okay I will bring the things on my way to town”.  He was going to town to sign the consent papers for our divorce, he said.

The trials of the day left Mr. Negativity unscathed. He showed up in a fresh, nicely ironed shirt, asked me to phone the lawyer’s office to make sure they will still be there by the time he gets to town, and carried baby and talked to him (something he rarely did in the past few weeks, at least not in front of me). He also brought me along the stroller which I had forgotten in the confusion as well.

Experience has taught me that Mr. Negativity becomes nice only when he has something to gain, or has much to lose. I think after the argument we had in the car he figured it was too much of an effort and expense to live without the modem, the microwave and my few pots and pans, so he thought he will play softball for a while. He did not even ask me when I was going to get my cat. God help me until this whole thing is over.

In the papers I am filing for my divorce there is a letter he wrote to me when I tried to leave him for the first time. It was full of love, regret and promises. I keep it to remind me how false people can be when they have something at stake.

Moving Out

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

I am writing this long after the actual events, so the intensity of my feelings have cooled down considerably. Robert and I moved out today, after a few days of extensive ugliness, which I do not want to dwell upon much. I will just recall however that Ron wanted us out sooner rather than later.
During those final days I tried to steer clear of Ron. I spent lots of my time with Robert in the park enjoying the sunny days of autumn. Most of the time, however, I had my hands full, trying to get retrained at work, tying up loose ends here, transferring phone and fax accounts, getting dental checkups, and packing boxes of books. While I still had a proof of address at our flat, I opened a bank account for Robert and made out a cheque for his Canadian citizenship application. I also managed to convince Ron to take us to the hospital to get Robert’s immunization for this month. I wasn’t sure if he would agree to take us a second time because the nurse was on holiday when we went there last week, and I got into deep trouble for not phoning in advance.

In the end Ron helped us move, but there are still a few items of mine he still holds in his possession, and I trust that he will hand over in time. Among those are my computer and scanner, but there is also my psychologically disturbed cat. Ron wanted Petey out of there as soon as possible as well, but I was hesitant to displace him into a strange environment especially that Jackie’s house is the territory of her female cat Spliff. Ron has grudgingly agreed to give the cat food and board until a better solution comes up, and I am grateful.

In retrospect perhaps it was a bad idea to give Robert his immunization in the middle of all this chaos, but I had no other option since Ron is keeping our car, and I don’t have another mode of transport. Robert was terribly cranky, with the combined effect of moving and the injection. I could not cope with his consistent crying, at the same time, I could not control my own feelings of displacement and loss. Whenever I set down something I ended up losing it, and it drove me crazy. By late evening I was a complete zombie and went into a complete breakdown. My baby and I were both howling uncontrollably.

Robert’s changing table found a home in Jackie’s bathroom but he cried bitterly every time I carried him to it. I hung up his music mobile over it, which helped somewhat. But he still cried bitterly every time I wanted to change him. Later I figured out that his upper leg was sore from the injection, but on the first day I was beyond reason and help. We both crashed into bed late and exhausted.

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Hit Me Where it Hurts

~ marobbie ~ 2 Comments

I think my brother-in-law is an idiot. But then again there are so many of his kind in my old country.

Recently, I lamented in this post the plight of women in my country of origin. The piece was brought about by what I think of as my sister’s digression into blind submission to the dictates of society. This submission is well-disguised as Islamic morals, values, and mostly dress code (wearing the headscarf or Hijab).

Today my good sister’s husband came up with another gem from my erstwhile people who have been dozing for the last thousand years. He splashed a “funny” post all over Facebook’s “Funwall” and forwarded it to his numerous friends – most of whom are WOMEN if I may add.

I am translating it from the original Arabic:

Behind every great man .. a woman

Behind every prisoner.. a woman

Behind every problem.. a woman

Behind every war.. a woman

Behind every traffic accident.. a woman

Behind every fight between neighbours … a woman

Behind the demographic imbalance… a woman

Behind the corruption of young men and their depravity.. a woman

Behind every mother and father who were thrown into an old age home… a woman

I want to know who was the stupid ox who called them the fairer sex.

End of gem.

Given my current situation, I am not very good friends with the male fraternity at the moment. But this particular post would enrage me even on a good day, and I do not think it is funny at all. It simply illustrates the male (and especially the Middle Eastern male’s) attitude of passing the responsibility of EVERYTHING onto a woman’s shoulders. Men get away with this because we women have broad shoulders, and can carry everything the guys throw at us: The groceries, the kids, and a good portion of the home-loan to boot. We do it with love, then we smile and ask for more of the load.

Yesterday I drew up a list of items I bought in the last two years and gave it to Mr. Negativity. I did that because in the settlement he stated that I will be getting X thousand Rand’s worth of household effects. I annotated the items I would like to have and added them up to come up with the amount HE said I would get. His response: “I don’t want to go into nit-picking”. Of course, it is nit picking, because I am the one who is asking for stuff. In contrast it is not nit-picking when he demands that I throw petrol in the car on the rare occasions I dare to use it, or when he makes me pay for his son’s passport applications.

His latest antic: I am not allowed to use the car for moving my few belongings to my friend’s house down the road, no more than two kilometers away. And of course it is too much “effort and expense” for him to drive me there. Yet, he wants me “out of his hair” sooner rather than later. Perhaps I should do a sit-in protest on top of my boxes, and wait to see who will break first. Believe me, I want out as well, but I have put up with this crap for nine years, what is a few days more?

Final Days

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

Sadly, my days together with Ron are numbered. Throughout this I am still trying to keep an outward facade to my family overseas who know no better. I do not want to add on to their worry. In the midst of all this, Robert’s long awaited Christmas present from Auntie Celia arrives. Its belated arrival made a sad testament to the changed circumstances. I picked the parcel up at the post office, and the it lay unopened for days. So I finally decided to open it and divided the presents, which were supposed to be shared. Ron got the tea, and I kept the chocolates, while Robert got the whole lot of baby goodies and a book.

During the past week Ron and I steered away from each other. He kept his usual morning routine, and at night he went to sleep soundly while I stayed awake, reading news feeds and blogs and writing my own. Just messing around on the internet to shorten the hours of the night and to keep the fear and desperation at bay. Many of my problems do not have solutions yet. Who will look after Robert while I am away at work? How will I manage work in the long term? what will happen next? I try not to think of everything at once, and deal with one problem at a time.

I had to explain my situation at work, thus making myself a novelty and a freak. People who have been at my work long enough know that I have been close to divorce before, and I can imagine the gossip that is spreading on the floor. I endured the pitying looks and asked for some arrangement to my shifts. The first solution that came to my mind was to work 20 hours of night shift every week. I thought that Robert slept through the night, and Jackie is home almost every night so she can keep an ear if he wakes up at night for some reason. I am still waiting for a response for my request, but if it is not granted I really do not know what else to do. Jackie is careful and paranoid about people who enter her house. It will be difficult for me to employ domestic help if they do not meet with her approval.
All these problems I try to forget while Robert and I are together. We are spending many hours at the park, and enjoying our final days there. Once I move in with Jackie it will be a much longer walk here, and I am not sure whether I can come here every day.

Robert crawls now very easily on the grass, and he can sit in the swing for a very long time.

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Trust a Man

~ marobbie ~ 2 Comments

Today’s quote from Husband (hereafter referred to as Mr. Negativity-he won’t be Husband for long) : “You will never appreciate all the things I have done for you through nine years of marriage”. The quote came on the heels of an accusation to me that I have stopped doing anything around the house. Yes, it is true, I have stopped because there is no point. There is no pleasing the bugger whatever I do, so I just took a step back and started slacking off COMPLETELY. I am using him for all he is worth, for now. Because I know: a) Whatever he is doing right now serves to massage his guilt and promote his self image as the martyr and the victim of the piece. b) Heck, I will be having a real hard life next, and will not get much out of him after these next few days, so I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. No, I am not going out with my girlfriends every night and leaving him with a crying baby. I am not maxing out his credit card. I am only slacking off in the housework department (where I was a slacker to start with), and when he cooks dinner I eat the extra portion he puts aside. I still take care of baby whenever I am home from work, but he still feels that he is so nice to help me babysit our son. Oh, please give me a break. Like this is stopping him from his life’s work ! At least looking after the little child is a productive and rewarding activity. Better than trying in vain to reverse the passage of years at the gym. Of course this is not the way he sees it. As far as he is concerned he is paying me GENEROUS child support of x thousand Rand (don’t hold your breath, it is honestly peanuts) so that he doesn’t have to do babysitting. What the cheapskate forgets is that the generous amount includes R600 contribution to my medical aid, which he still benefits from. After deducting it, there is just enough to cover the rent of a furnished room in a friend’s house. We still need to live and pay for nannies if I want to continue to work. I rest my case.So, what has he done for me in nine years of marriage? The one good thing is my little one, and if he didn’t think that having a child was something that will magically fix his life, he wouldn’t have allowed me to have him. Then there is ruining my self-esteem, isolating me from my friends, giving me complexes about my healthy appetite, begrudging me every treat, and trying very hard to change me. His excuse: he wanted me to be someone compatible with him. Yes, and I am the fool who fell for this crap for six long years. When I had enough he fooled me again by telling me that HE has changed. In my native tongue there is a saying : trust a man, trust your water to a sieve.