This time last year I was as close to being suicidal as I've ever been. Did it show in this blog? Probably not. It never has. But this time last year things were miserable between V and me, thanks in part to previous misunderstandings, in part to his family and I suppose in some part due to settling down blues. It takes time for marriages to settle down, I was told, but mine seemed to be taking a really long time to be getting anywhere positive.
And yet, and yet... despite the traumas of parenthood and sleep deprivation (yeah, me favourite complaint), I do think I'm happier than I'd hoped or thought I could be. While The Bhaeblet is obviously one of my main sources of joy (and trauma), his father also does a lot in making me happy. This time last year I was beginning to lose hope in us ever reaching the understanding we currently share. V and I still fight like cats and dogs. Nor will I attempt to justify this by claiming that all marriages need their share of fights. But the difference between our fights last year and our fights now is that there is a little less hidden resentment. If I'm upset I do try to tell him just what is bugging me, even if it his family or any other such sensitive topic. I don't know about you, but I've discovered that it's easier for me to get something off my chest and then deal with it than letting it fester by keeping a lid on it.
When we got married I wanted things to be much as they were between V and me pre-marriage. I wanted to keep the independence I'd fought so hard to gain. I wanted to be a good daughter-in-law, you know, dutiful and so on. Because, in the heart of me, I'm just that old-fashioned. Not conservative, but yes, old-fashioned. None of that worked out.
As a great aunt of mine had predicted, once we were married V stopped buying me little surprises. I stopped writing him funny little letters. We both got caught up in the family maelstrom and lost out on a lot of happiness. His mother hated me and broadcast that to the world. My family instantly decided I was to blame for the situation and made matters worse. These things are not an auspicious start to a marriage. Add an unplanned and far too early (??) pregnancy and it no longer needs explaining why I stopped trying to be what I'd wanted.
And then along came a Bhaeblet and changed all the rules all over again. V and I just been getting into the swing of being a married couple, and suddenly we were parents. No more privacy and no more energy and no more time to ourselves. Suddenly the world revolved around a revolting little bundle. In these last eight odd months V and I have come a long way, I think.
I'm not the patient, understanding, loving mother I thought I would be. I'm as likely to smack The Bhaeblet (if he bugs me) as I am to hug him silly (if I think he needs it). I don't always get his meals bang on time -- but I do take him swimming. Nor do I score very high on the kind of wife I wanted to be. But you see, that's because that was the kind of wife I wanted to be. The tense here is very important because it took me not very long to realise that V needed a slightly different kind of wife altogether.
So yeah, I didn't set out to be the woman I am now. But hey, as a product of my circumstances I think I'm doing as well as can be expected. And best of all, we're mostly happy with it.