Dreams vs Reality.
I spent most of today drifting between sleep and wakefulness. I eventually went to bed somewhere round half seven this morning and was woken as usual by the delights of the people who live just up the road yelling obscenities at their children on the way to school. I dozed off again to be wakened again, same neighbour, same volume, same obscenities, younger children. They have six of them in all ranging from ten down to just coming up two. Three are still too young for school and gleefully spend the day out the front screaming and yelling, laughing and, obvious with small children, screaming blue murded when they fall over.
I dozed off again to be wakened up by father yelling obscenities at the youngest of school age as she decided to ignore him (as usual) as he brought her home from nursery. She does as she pleases, he yells at her without doing anything other than yelling to make her understand what "wrong" means. She gets told "no" and does what she pleases anyway. Nothing gets done about it, so she's well aware that she can get away with just about anything, and all her father will do is yell a bit, swear a lot and generally drive me insane. I'm not sure what the mum does, but I know for a fact that he does very little and someone has to be doing all the cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, tidying and running around after six children while he stands out the front drinking, smoking and swearing at his kids in a very loud voice.
Anyway, that's par for the course every day these days, so it was nothing unusual for me to hear the delightful things he yells at his kids. The unusual thing today was my dream...
I don't usually remember dreams. The ones I do remember tend to be my nightmares, the ones that usually wake me up after an hour or two of sleep and leave me panicked. My dream today has left me feeling very frustrated and empty, even though it was a lovely dream... Sort of...
In my dream, I'd gone into hospital with stomach pains, only to be informed when I was in there that I was actually about to give birth. For some reason, it wasn't a big surprise to me. It was only when they told me that my pregnant belly showed, and I could feel the baby in there, where I'd not noticed anything before. The labour wasn't really progressing, so I went for a wander and met himself in town (don't ask why I was suddenly in town. It's a dream, OK?) so he got to hear the news. He was delighted, and had to listen to my belly to hear the baby, grinning like a maniac the whole time and really excited. After that, I was back in the hospital, actually having the baby, with himself holding my hand and doing the whole "don't forget to breathe" bit, and cutting the cord of our daughter while I panicked that we had no baby things, like babygrows, nappies, no cot for the baby, nothing. The only thing I could say for certain I had was a christening gown, but that wasn't going to be much use at that exact moment...
I woke up to another verbal tirade from the father up the road as the other children got hom from school. I felt very empty, and I am currently feeling rather broody. I'm getting thoughts like "wouldn't it be nice to have a baby?" and then remind myself that it would be a very bad idea right now, coupled with the whole "you can't have any" thing, and the fact that himself isn't very child-minded. He doesn't want any, and rationally, I agree with him, because we couldn't afford one, I couldn't look after one in my current state and it would take a lot for me to actually conceive, if I did at all, and there would be a whole lot of heartbreak if the procedure failed.
It doesn't stop me thinking how nice it would be to have one of my own. I'll snap out of it soon enough I'm sure. Other people's children are nice, because you can give them back, or listen to them screaming outside the front of the house and getting sworn at for 10 hours a day...
I dozed off again to be wakened up by father yelling obscenities at the youngest of school age as she decided to ignore him (as usual) as he brought her home from nursery. She does as she pleases, he yells at her without doing anything other than yelling to make her understand what "wrong" means. She gets told "no" and does what she pleases anyway. Nothing gets done about it, so she's well aware that she can get away with just about anything, and all her father will do is yell a bit, swear a lot and generally drive me insane. I'm not sure what the mum does, but I know for a fact that he does very little and someone has to be doing all the cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, tidying and running around after six children while he stands out the front drinking, smoking and swearing at his kids in a very loud voice.
Anyway, that's par for the course every day these days, so it was nothing unusual for me to hear the delightful things he yells at his kids. The unusual thing today was my dream...
I don't usually remember dreams. The ones I do remember tend to be my nightmares, the ones that usually wake me up after an hour or two of sleep and leave me panicked. My dream today has left me feeling very frustrated and empty, even though it was a lovely dream... Sort of...
In my dream, I'd gone into hospital with stomach pains, only to be informed when I was in there that I was actually about to give birth. For some reason, it wasn't a big surprise to me. It was only when they told me that my pregnant belly showed, and I could feel the baby in there, where I'd not noticed anything before. The labour wasn't really progressing, so I went for a wander and met himself in town (don't ask why I was suddenly in town. It's a dream, OK?) so he got to hear the news. He was delighted, and had to listen to my belly to hear the baby, grinning like a maniac the whole time and really excited. After that, I was back in the hospital, actually having the baby, with himself holding my hand and doing the whole "don't forget to breathe" bit, and cutting the cord of our daughter while I panicked that we had no baby things, like babygrows, nappies, no cot for the baby, nothing. The only thing I could say for certain I had was a christening gown, but that wasn't going to be much use at that exact moment...
I woke up to another verbal tirade from the father up the road as the other children got hom from school. I felt very empty, and I am currently feeling rather broody. I'm getting thoughts like "wouldn't it be nice to have a baby?" and then remind myself that it would be a very bad idea right now, coupled with the whole "you can't have any" thing, and the fact that himself isn't very child-minded. He doesn't want any, and rationally, I agree with him, because we couldn't afford one, I couldn't look after one in my current state and it would take a lot for me to actually conceive, if I did at all, and there would be a whole lot of heartbreak if the procedure failed.
It doesn't stop me thinking how nice it would be to have one of my own. I'll snap out of it soon enough I'm sure. Other people's children are nice, because you can give them back, or listen to them screaming outside the front of the house and getting sworn at for 10 hours a day...
posted by Me at 9:00 pm
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