Month Seventy-Six

Dear Husband,

This was a bit of a tense month. As the pregnancy progresses, I am getting more tired and, well, probably more mean too. Not that I am doing anything on purpose but I must be snapping more because I have noticed the snapping back. And the ill feeling regarding my trips to Sydney. I do get that its hard to be home alone with Genibean but I hate being made to feel guilty for going to work in Sydney when it was always part of the deal when we moved. I was allowed to relocate and work from home to fulfill my role on the proviso that I would be available to go and work in the office a couple of days a month. I needed to be available when they needed me and this never amounted to more than a few days a month. The guilt I got though felt more like you were accusing me of abandoning you for weeks…

I will say however that while I was away this month, you did have a particularly crap time of it. As the weather has been getting warmer, you lined up someone to come and service our evaporative cooling so that we could have cool air. You called me up to say that it was all sorted and you were really pleased. Then you called me up to say that the system had started leaking water all over the floor on a Friday afternoon and the language that you used was not something I am going to repeat. It was a really stressful time for you to be home alone with Genevieve and there was nothing I could do to help. I’m actually not sure how much help I would have been if I was home because getting down on the floor to mop up spills would not have been high on my pregnancy to do list but perhaps you would have resented me a little less had I been there.

You would also have probably resented me a little less if I didn’t nag you so much and bite back at every opportunity. I know that I have been on at you this month to find us a shearer. We got a packet of information on all the animals we inherited when we moved here but apparently the phone number for the shearer who has been coming out previously is not actually the real number for the shearer who does Wiggles each year. We therefore needed a new one. And sooner rather than later as I’m pretty sure he was starting to suffer in the heat. Our poor (fat!) sheep with the ever growing back of wool…I had arranged for the alpaca to be sorted but you took your sweet time to find someone who could come and take care of Wiggles. And then we had to put it off because he got a bit wet and then I made you chase him back into the stable in case he got wet again. You weren’t very happy with me then either.


And that brings me to the fight we had this month when all the passive aggressive and the picking and the snapping just got too much. The fight itself was about sleep which was kind of dumb. My lack thereof and your unwanted helpful suggestions on how I should be dealing with that. I was in full flight accusing you of being Mr know-it-all who thinks he knows best about how I should get a good nights’ sleep. Just go to bed early you say whilst I contemplated the ultimate suffering as I come out of a sleep cycle just as you are coming to bed and end up lying wide awake staring at the ceiling at 4am because my body clock has been thrown out of whack. You thought I was being ridiculous because how could I know that was going to happen and clearly, if I went to bed at the same time as my daughter I’d be bound to get that better nights’ sleep that would turn me into a human.

I in turn was spitting chips because it seemed as far as you were concerned, this dilemma had nothing to do with the fact that I am the one that ends up rising to comfort a toddler occasionally or let the dog out to pee or share my side of the bed with a distended belly and said toddler almost every morning. All of which you could do every once in a while to help out (well, apart from having the distended belly – although if you could take that over for me for a while it would be awesome). It also seemed to escape your awareness that perhaps I could just quit reading books till midnight and go to bed at a reasonable hour rather than a late one. That was my suggestion. You just seemed to want to put a child’s curfew on me though and have me go to be at a ridiculously early hour and I thought that in itself was completely ridiculous and I saw red.

Neither of us were very nice to each other that night.

Other than that, your sister came to visit this month and we went to our first rodeo. Just down the street. I didn’t realise when we moved here just how close we were to the showground and what that would mean. Its not like the showgrounds in other places where the shows themselves are much bigger and the parking is either a) horrendous or b) expensive but there is a certain convenience when you can just walk over to the showground to check out whatever is there and the rodeo was pretty cool. Apparently I’m more country than I thought. I’m pretty sure I can still stick out like a sore thumb as a city chick (although I do now own an Akubra that we bought at the Murrumbateman Field Day, albeit a somewhat girly one) but I would still go and check out a rodeo again. I may still be a little wary of any animal bigger than me but I am not the one riding any of them so that’s fine.


Hilbillily yours,
Your Loving Wife


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