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Blatant disregard

Maybe you can empathize with me that even if you drown in a stream of unpleasant things and unhappy moments there are certain incidences that stick out because you just cannot forget about them. It might not even be the worst things but they stay with you, maybe because they are symptomatical for your relationship.

Something that turned my stomach with fury happened when she was 3. Easter came close and I went to get a few things for her Easter basket. My plan was to find a few cute things and not too much. What I found were two cute sheep for egg cups with one chocolate egg in each of them. I bought one in white and one in black and I found them really cute and funny and I kind of looked forward to what she would say when she found them in her Easter basket. I don’t know why but I was really exited about those two little sheep. At home I showed them to Mr. M. and told him I bought them for the Eater basket and that I was sure she would find them very cute and that I was going to hide them until Easter.

A few days later he went shopping with her and she came home with the sheep egg cup…………(Can you imagine that I still feel like crying writing this down?)

Very early in „our“ parenthood, my daughter was still on a three hours feeding rhythm when I realized that most evenings I went to bed at around 10 pm or even earlier and Mr. M. stayed in front of the TV until at least 12 pm. So I had the outrageous idea to ask him if, since he was still awake, he could feed her the 11 pm bottle (which was already in the fridge because it was breast milk).

He told me no, he had to work tomorrow…. ….. …. …..???

I pointed out that this might be true but nonetheless he was still awake either way and I did not quite grasp the difference between being awake while feeding his daughter in front of the TV and being awake in front of the TV while I got up again and fed his daughter. I don’t remember the answer, only the outcome: He did not do it.

Also very early in our daughters live we sat down to eat. She was  in my arms most of the time (6 weeks early – remember?), I held her close to me as much as I could and when we sat down on the sofa to eat spaghetti she was asleep on my shoulder. I balanced the plate of noodles on me knees and ate spaghetti with one hand…. it kind of worked but you can imagine how it looked and that there are more pleasant ways to eat. Mr. M. wolfed down his spaghetti, got up and left me there with the baby on my shoulder and the plate on my knees. Well yes, I could have just laid the baby down but I preferred not to. He could have just offered to take his baby into his arm and let me finish my meal.

Since our child was born there was this steady, unspoken undercurrent of you life on my money. You don’t earn money and keep spending mine. As you can imagine a child keeps asking Daddy where he goes and what he does and why he leaves etc. He made a show of telling – no emphasizing -towards his daughter every day: „Daddy has to work, Daddy has to earn money.“

I don’t know if this transports what I am trying to say. The answer in itself is not disregarding, it is the truth but maybe you can imagine what a certain was of speaking it on a daily basis conveis to her and to me!

My nerves were really frayed most of the time and I remember that Mr. M. had the habit of immediately switching on the radio when entering the kitchen. I was only able to bear that a few minutes until it got on my nerves so badly I had to switch it off again. He did not react to that, so I asked him a few times to please leave the radio off, because I just could not stand the noise. He adamantly switched it on every time until I switched it off again. I stopped asking him.

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