Life's a funny old game isn't it?

I'm here, back from that great british tradition that is actually not in the least bit great in my experience. It is said that holidays, like Christmas can be true eye openers when it comes to how your life truly is.
BINGO!
These few days away have been a metaphorical smack in the face for me and have made me see a few things in a light I have to say haven't cheered or inspired me a jot.
My husband has some good qualities and a couple of admirable ones, he unfortunately cannot claim being fun or spontaneous as either belonging to him. I can rely on him 100% for making sure that we are never without baby wipes or filled juice cups, I never for a moment have to worry about if the boys are due a nap or if we will have something handy to wipe a string of candle wick snot on. If someone falls over ( even if we were in outer Mogolia I bet you) he would produce a tube of anti bacterial cream to stop those nasty germs from scarring or hurting the precious knees of his boys. However, it would seem that to be spontaneous, to simply up and go and have some ( hold on, scary word coming up) FUN is beyond painful to him.
My idea of a holiday, break away from it all is to do anything and everything that is non typical.....eat out ( oh no, why? food is SO much more enjoyable when bought, prepared and cooked ourselves, meaning by me) get dirty ( ewwwww wipe that mud off, clean that sand out, fold those clothes ) stay up late ( argh........what about ROUTINE?!?!? ) see a sign for a fun place and bugger the expense lets go ( hmmm what if it's NOT fun, what if we DON'T enjoy it? what should that money really go on?)
Oh dear Lord.....we were showered and ready for bed by 7pm every evening....I should have had an idea that a holiday wasn't going to be quite as I hoped when I noticed that H's idea of a relaxing read to bring along was the penguin guide to punctuation. I'm not kidding, oh but that I were.....I have never known him read anything but factual guide books......my warped sense of humour did however get an airing when I was ranting about how crap it all was and packing for us all ( of course, I packed, loaded, unloaded, unpacked and packed it all up again) and the boys were running riot and tipping delicious but sticky melon and apple soda all over the clean laundry, I noticed that H was reading a book called "raising boys"... here were 3 little boys itching to be raised but seemingly they can cause absolute and total mayhem while daddy reads all about how to do it! ( I might sneak a look later to see if there isn't more than a paragraph on making memories with little boys being more important than having clean noses and being in bed at the right time every blasted day of their lives!!)
Can you tell that I am still not quite gushingly in love with H following our monumental disagreement? I am still reeling actually and now have a headful of new misery heaped on top of it all. I am in the midst of having to make some truly life altering adjustments to my life. I have come to realise that in order to stay sane I have to accept that I have no-on to have fun with. I crave just a modicum of laughter, how sad to come to a realisation that if I am to have that, it is going to have to be on my own or at least without H.
I find it sad now but think that perhaps it might be just what we both need. HE likes being at home, all the time, he likes routine ( yawn) he likes security. ( as long as it is provided by someone else, naturally!)
I am weary of snatching joy from the veritable scrap heap of my life...having to rummage and scrape in order to come up with a scrap of something to feel proud of or happy about ( my children aside of course, it comes with the terrirtory that if you have little people they bring with them joy by the bucketload)
I am beyond ashamed and embarrassed by H's inability or reluctance to work and provide for us as a family, I have such a rage in me about this that I find myself totally unable to speak about it. The very fact that he grasps and boasts such an undeserved male ego /pride when failing to do the very most basic of male / paternal resposibilities is so outrageous to me that I am immobilised by it.
I am, however, on the very brink of voicing this anger.
I took myself off today and bought myself a few girlie treats, has lunch on my own in a very nice restaurant, bought some gossipy magazines and read them whilst eating chocolate in glorious silence......and stoked up some strength and courage to face my demons and say what is on my mind when the boys are in bed this evening.
Today, H told me to watch my mouth in front of the boys, he never misses a chance to correct me, to point out my every flaw, he notices every single weakness I have and makes up a good few too. Given the chance he would have me wearing gingham blouses and A-line skirts, canning peaches and speaking in whispers. He would love me to simper and praise him and I would love to do it if he would get off his pious self righteous arse and give me something worthwhile to praise.
If he were to come home tomorrow and tell me he was going to be scrubbing the toilets in Mc Donalds for minimum wage I would kiss his feet. If he were to stagger in the door after a 10 hour shift in a God awful factory I would wear gingham and sing "the hills are alive".
If I had 8 hours a day to be a housewife and mother I would feel the world was my oyster but it won't happen, he will be here, 24 hours a day noticing what I am doing wrong til one of us drops dead...so I have to work out what I can do about that. I didn't know this was how it was to be and I don't like it. What I have to do now is decide where to go and what to do about it. Needless to say it will me ME who has to decide and ME who has to do something about it.
I want to wax lyrical and tell you about our few days in gramma's caravan and I will, just not today ...ha...I left my medicine at the caravan, my relied upon anti depressants ( can you tell) I am pretty sure that I am not the only woman on this planet who takes anti depressants because her husband is a miserable shit...life's a funny old game isn't it?