So, what's going on here...?

Well, I'm working. And I'm getting pay through the roof! My contract runs till end of December and with a couple of weeks holiday here and there, I should end up with about 35.000 DKr. / £4300 / $7000 after tax in total for the 3 months work. And how I deserve it! I haven't made a penny now since – well, since Raven was 6 months old and I finished my maternity leave. That's 3 years ago.

I must say, though, I was gobsmacked when I saw how much the hourly rate was – it's 331 DKr p/h before tax, which equals about $66 / £42. Adam gets all the deductions as I didn't have an income, so I'll have to pay full tax -- which comes to about 42% -- of every last penny, but that's okay. At least I know what I'll get. Also, the rebate of 17% we get on childcare will no longer be applicable because we'll be earning too much and childcare costs go up every year after Christmas, so some of the income will be spent on that. But nevertheless: we'll be getting a few extra bob, I get massive satisfaction from working and earning money not to mention I get LOADS more done around the house than I did when I was home all day long.

It's been a challenge being around so many people all day long and in particular so many WORDS! Obviously, it's all about the students talking, but there's also a fair bit of teacher talking going on and my vocal chords just aren't used to that. Not to mention my bowels! They, too, were greatly affected by my sudden change in routine.

Anyways, so Adam went to England for a long weekend last weekend and I was a “single, working mum” from Thursday till Monday, both days included. Mette came over, which was absolutely fantastic. Don't see enough of my best friend, but at least it's always very high quality when we're together. Also, it was so good she was here to be the “outside eyes” as I felt I'd been doing nothing but yell and say “NO” for the duration, but she assures me that was not what she heard or saw.

My poor girl gets into such states sometimes and now that Adam's been away, he's having to deal with some dinosaur sized super melt downs from the little sweetheart. I don't know – maybe I was simply destined to be bad cop in this relationship, but I HATE being the one to step in when the two of them get into a knot. But someone's got to. Like yesterday I had to take her to her room and physically restrain her!!! How bloody awful did I feel!!! I mean, it's not like I'm lying on top of her, screaming obsceneties at her or nowt. I talk to her very gently, stroke her hair and comfort her, because I know all to well what it's like to be in a state like that. But she was thrashing around like a child posessed. Sometimes I let her, but then I tend to lock the door so it stays in her room. I mean, I'm all for space to freak out, kick, scream, cry and even a bit of name calling. But I insist it's got to be for her, not for display puposes, if that makes sense, which is why we take it to her room.

I'm painfully aware how difficult it can be when the emotions overflow like that and lord knows she doesn't get it from strangers. Only, my mum and dad used to hose me down with cold water when I acted like that and Adam's parents used to beat him if he did. So, you know, I'm having to work this one out for myself as I haven't really got anything in the tool box to help me. In the same vein, I'm trying to teach her to rise above it. I don't know if that's too much to expect from a 3½ year old, but I just desperately want her to have an easier life than me.

Thing I have to remind myself is that the fact that Adam and I are her parents already gives her a much, much better start in life than I had.

Jeez, thinking that – writing that – literally brought tears to my eyes.

Did it come across full of myself? No matter. Those who know, also understand exactly what I mean.

The more mother and woman I become, the more the traumas I suffered become apparent – but as with all monster slaying, you need to be able to see 'em to slay 'em. So, come forth ye beasts of yore, for I am ready for battle!

A friend of mine is going through some shit with her husband – he's beating her, verbally abusing her and so forth and has recently started verbally abusing his little girl, same age as Raven. It's so, so hard not to run over there and take that little girl out of that house. I KNOW how scared she is, and I KNOW how much this is affecting her. I have told her in no uncertain terms that she won't be a good mother until she takes them both away from this man. It just isn't enough that mummy is a good, caring and loving person.

How can you be a good mum if you're being beaten? Being abused?

My youngest brother gets very cross when I suggest that my mother is also to blame for our horrid childhood, but it has been a much, much harder and longer journey for me to forgive my mum for staying with my dad than it was to forgive my dad.

She was the only one who could've saved us – and her. And she chose not to. I know she had her reasons and that's all well and fine – but as far as I'm concerned, she failed us.

Am I being too harsh?

Probably.

All parents fail aspects of their children. Of that I am certain. But there's failing them have a pony and there's failing them have a secure home.

I don't know. The details and the long rants are too much right now. And who am I trying to explain myself to, anyways? I am allowed to feel sadness for the loss of my childhood. I am allowed to feel recentment for all the self hatred I learned. I am allowed to feel cheated from reaching my potential.

And it's not because my life now isn't a good and worthy and meaningful life. It is. And obviously I did learn good lessons too – and more importantly managed to turn some of the bad ones into useful ones! But sweet jezus, I've wasted a lot of time... or was it wasted?

My mum says it was like I didn't really get out of puberty until I was in my late twenties. My um says a lot of shit. Thing is, I'm not allowed to say back to her what I really think, because “she did her best” - so, when I feel like saying, “well, mum, thing is, I had to take everything apart that that was thrown at me and rebuild it into something resembling a whole humanbeing” I don't. I just take it on the chin. That an a million other phrases that she likes to repeat to me. Like the one about how I didn't want the dolls house my parents had lovingly handmade for me. Or the one about how I grew fat when I was 4. Or the one about my bad, bad temper. Or the one about how I talked incessantly. Or how lucky I am to have a husband like Adam.

So, this wasn't really where I planned to go today. Oh well. Maybe there'll be something lighter tomorrow.

Dinner beckons and I'd better get into gear.

in the meantime, feast yer eyes on these two beauties: