Daddy time

I have been at work again today, on a Sunday! Yet another day taken away from me spending time with Matilda but a wonderful opportunity for Richard to spend more time with her and gain more confidence as he is brilliant with her. Over the last few weeks, we have changed the routine as it was taking me so long to get to and from nursery, so Richard now takes her and picks her up. This has been great as I have seen him just grow in confidence with her. Spending a whole day with her is lovely and I'm pleased Richard has done it, done it really well and most importantly really enjoyed himself. It is a beautiful thing watching them together so bonded.

The same could not be said for me and my own father. Don't get me wrong, this is no sob story, in fact my immediate family history has always been seen by me as a bit of joke or a good dinner party story. "Did you know I am the daughter of a Catholic Priest?" Always an interesting show stopper really, I quite enjoy watching people's faces as they suddenly stop, not knowing whether to laugh, if I'm joking or carefully treading an imaginary path to unpick evidence to see if I am scarred by such a sordid past. No I'm not. My mum had an affair with the local priest, she was already married with four children and fled down south, married him hastily and had me a few months after. This could have been fairly romantic I suppose but the tables soon turned for her and he walked out and left us for another woman on my fifth birthday. Anyway, long story short; after my mother's breakdown and a custody ruling which meant I had to see him every Saturday for seven years before I rebelled, I stopped seeing him when I was about 14. Given all of the above I think I've turned out considerably well balanced.

After I left Uni, I wrote a letter to him. I was curious, what did he think of me? Did he ever think about me? It wasn't something I was pining for, a relationship with him. I don't really know him.
I wrote him a letter stating that I wanted nothing from him, just to let him know where I was, that I didn't want to go over who did what and who should take the blame. I've had so much of that from mum and I'm not interested. As an adult I realise that people fuck up, people make mistakes and sometimes don't always make the best decisions, there is no guide book for life. Well I was shocked when he wrote back. I remember falling to the floor in floods of tears as I realised the letter was him.  That was back in 2000. Since then I have had fairly consistent contact with Elodie, my half sister and some brief contact with Damien but very sparce contact with Pat. My and Elodie's contact heightened before our wedding, a difficult choice as I wanted her to share my day but didn't mention it at all as I knew that they could not attend the wedding. Mum was there and it would have screwed up her day and mine, it wouldn't have been my about my wedding it would ahve been about them, me and the rest of my family. It was best for them not to know, so that is what we did. I later sent them a picture and carefully crafted letters to Pat and one to Elodie.

I let them know with everyone else when I was pregnant. Now this was slightly different from marriage. I was making Pat a grandfather. I didn't get much of a response, a brief email. These things don't bother me much. I'm just fascinated to think what he really thinks, I get some very kind and bland mails but nothing that gives his game away. I'm never sure if it is because I laid down the law so clearly in that first contact letter, and I call him Pat. Maybe I've set the tone, he is not my dad. He is my father. The two are totally different. A dad is loving, caring and shares a life with their offspring, a father is purely functional, a giver of life.

Since Matilda has been born, he has sent her a few outfits. Each time she has a change up in size we receive a unceremonious parcel with some new outfits for her. That is as much as he has shown an interest in his first grandchild. I have sent a link to photos of her to him but with no response.

My reason for blogging this today is that I have received an email from Pat, out of the blue today. A reply, 4 months late to my last mail thanking him for the last set of clothes for her.

PAT
"That was it!!! hope you're all ok.. autumnn selection to arrive, hopefully, soon......when are you next in the south??"

MY ORIGINAL MAIL: On 13 Jun 2008, at 13:30

"Thank you very much for the parcel for my birthday. The little outfit for Matilda is lovely and perfect for a hot summer - which I hope comes back, it would be typical if that was it!
Hope you are all well. You must be pleased for Damien and his degree.
Lotsa love
Shiv, Rich and Tilly."

Well I'm not sure what to think. I'm agog.  Does sending me a parcel of clothes every three months suffice?  I've had more information in text messages from service providers or spam.  I would rather have an email with contact, some human interaction.  I am not someone to be bought.

Left holding the baby again

Richard's friend Ben is getting married. We were invited to the wedding but we're not going. After a lot of talk about the wedding, getting the invitation, going down with Matilda to their house for a BBQ, it appears she is not invited. It was never explicitly stated, we just presumed and when they asked us if we were coming I noticed her name wasn't on the invitation. Richard checked and instead of being upfront, it became an email battle of 'well if it means you won't come then she is more than welcome' - which of course means she isn't invited at all. Just say it for goodness sake. There is no question in my mind, the wedding is in Somerset, it is the weekend after another wedding and I'm not going without her, she'll only be 6 months old. I've had a baby because I wanted a family, we come as a package now and there are three of us. All or nothing. I completely respect any couple's wish not to invite children to a wedding but please, be upfront about it. Don't dilly dally.

The reason I mention this is because twice already Richard has literally left me holding the baby for Ben. Before the realisation that Tilly wasn't invited to the wedding, Richard left me for the weekend to attend Ben's stag weekend in Norfolk. This was the day after she screamed the place down and we had to take her to the doctors. Tonight, once again Ben is having yet another "I'm going off the market party", just get on with it for god's sake. It is only early August, he is not getting married until September - how many more is he going to have??

I spend my days happy but lonely. I crave adult company and look forward to Richard coming home. Tonight, I'm still on my own as Richard is out. They came back earlier to drop things off before venturing out to Wing Wah. I am left sitting here, Tilly in bed asleep and me downstairs with a glass of wine. I'm not bitter, , , , well actually maybe I am. I love Tilly to bits and pieces and every moment of her loveliness my heart melts and swells again with pride of what I've made and continue to grow. But I've not had any time to myself since she was born, not really by myself. When I say this in front of Richard he comments that he has looked after her while I've been shopping. Not quite, pushing her while she is asleep in the pram outside the shop I'm in doesn't quite count. Richard has been out with work, disc-golfing, photography days with Paul and a multitude of stag events for Ben. I've done nothing. Wing Wah is literally across the road. They could just have easily got a take away and eaten it here in our dining room. I don't even need to be in there with them if they want it to be a work friends thing, just knowing that there is someone else in the house would be nice. Richard has apologised for going out tonight in advance and when he returned earlier and mentioned he really didn't want to go. His life still goes on, changed slightly but not tipped upside down like mine has by Tilly's arrival.

On Saturday I am going to work for a meeting with David and Benjamin about the market project. I'm so excited. It is something for me. I will be on my own. This is something that I'm really looking forward to but also scared of. I will worry about Tilly when I'm away. Richard is going to look after her. The only thing is he is already talking about walking her around town (no doubt outside my work) while I'm in the meeting. He needs to build his confidence looking after Tilly, he knows what to do but always double checks with me. He's often commented on the fact that he'd like to share with feeding, Tilly has been on bottles for a week and is eating some baby rice and he has not fed her once. Surely he should be jumping at the chance to bond and feed his daughter. Whenever he has looked after her while I sleep or have a shower he has a tendency to stick her in front of the television and stick Teletubbies on. I put Teletubbies on once a day to give myself a carefully planned routine of breakfast, shower, dressed and put the washing and steriliser on - it takes 15 minutes. My other justification for putting it on is that I spend the rest of the day talking to her, playing with her and just generally interacting. Richard doesn't spend a lot of time playing with her. He can make her smile at the drop of a hat - always. He is besotted with her, totally in love and I love that. However, he is also fixated on her as a photography project, obsessed by taking a photo a day. A lovely idea but I never had a father who interacted with me and I don't want Tilly to have the same experience.