Appropriate

I guess, given my feelings for my MIL, it was only natural that today, her birthday, would be a crappy, frustrating, stop-the-world-I-want-to-get-off kind of day.

Don't worry, I don't intend to go into the details (way too tedious, even for this blog), but yeah, crappy day, really.

Home free!

As in, my HOME is now FREE of guests! And it is bliss! And I'll be able to sleep in my own bed at last tonight (even if it means changing bed sheets for the 8th time (certain of those times involving changing the sheets on TWO BEDS AT ONCE) in less than a month. And oh! all the laundry this has involved... Martha Stewart eat your heart out!).
To be fair, my dreaded MIL's visit was probably OK. We didn't even actually argue, although I came close this morning when she came out with the sweeping generalisation that "when I was a child (i.e. in the 1940s and 50s) everyone went on holiday in the summer for a month, and with my mother we always went for much longer" which is such bourgeois crap that it made my blood boil - my grandparents, on both sides, were barely making ends meet at that time, and certainly didn't have the money to own a holiday home in the country, and I'm pretty sure most people here in wealthier France didn't either. The woman is so completely clueless about life that it drives me batshit.
But as I was saying, the visit probably went OK if I'm truthful.
And at least we won't have to see her for quite a few months now, if I play my cards right (didn't have the heart to tell her we're going to my dad's for Christmas, though she was with us last year so it's only fair).
To make the day even better, summer has returned with a vengeance and it's now really hot here again - FABULOUS! Even if I have shitloads of work and 2 more sets of sheets to wash...
Really, this evening, I feel as free as a bird!

Here; oh, so very much HERE

Yup, you guessed it. My MIL arrived last night (thank God I had a PTA meeting till 10.30 pm and then had to come home and work) and is already driving me TOTALLY BATSHIT CRAZY. Nothing "bad" has happened (yet), but I've never met anyone who takes so long to do things, who feels the need to provide you with a running commentary of everything she does (yes, and that includes bowel movements. TMI, I know, but if I have to put up with it, I feel it's only fair that you should too), who spends so much time thinking/talking/preparing and eating food, who finds a way to criticise just about everything (the blanket on the bed, the temperature...), and who just bugs me by simply being.
I'm becoming bitter and twisted, I know, but THAT'S THE EFFECT SHE HAS ON ME.
Roll on Thursday, that's what I say.

She's done it again

You know who I mean. Yes, my MIL from hell.
Her holiday plans this year were devised (so I believe in my paranoid little corner of the world) solely to bug me shitless.
We specifically told her not to come in the first two weeks of September because it wouldn't be convenient for us. So when did she arrive? Yup, 5 September. And no, it wasn't convenient because my dad was here. But we survived.
Then there's the fact that no return-to-Paris date was mentioned. Then she casually dropped it into the conversation that her friend (a nice lady she spent the first two weeks with) was going back to Paris on the 19th (yesterday) but that she "hadn't decided what she'd be doing next". Grrrr.
She then spent last night with a friend who - of course - just happens to live here in Montpellier, and she said she'd stay there till Tuesday, before going to Barcelona to see family. Her plan was then to come back here next Friday, spend 3 nights (because of course we said she could spend NO MORE than 2 with us) with us and head back up to Paris on Monday afternoon (28.09).
Then she phoned back an hour later to say that in fact she's too tired (from what? She's done nothing for 2 weeks...) to go to Barcelona and will now be arriving here, with us, TOMORROW night.
The only plus points to this that I can see are that a) the ordeal will be over quicker as a result and b) she'll only be here till Wednesday, which is actually only 2 nights.
On the down side are the fact that the girls will be in bed too late with her here, I'm not prepared and have had to wash yet more sheets, I'll have to make and remake beds all week again and tomorrow just isn't convenient for me as I'm teaching and have a PTA meeting in the afternoon, followed by the PTA general assembly all evening.
I swear, this woman is enough to drive anyone to drink.
I'm hoping, of course, that we have a major argument (yes, I'm evil) so that we can be rid of her for a few months.
Grrrrrrrrr

Guilt

Guilt is high on my list of feelings right now - I don't have many readers (slight understatement!), but my most reliable one is upset that I don't write more often. Phooey, I would have said, until she pointed out that I've only produced two posts since my birthday. Two posts in four months. That is, I hate to admit, pretty pathetic, even by my standards.
So here I am, back again.
My dear, kind dad has gone back to Scotland after 3 pretty nice weeks here "with us" (only actually 5 days altogether, with two weeks in his rented flat down at the beach), whilst my MIL from hell is still here, with no return ticket bought and no clear cut ideas of what she's doing from Sunday onwards. God help me. She's angling to come here, but we (D and I) have said "only 2 nights" and "only next weekend", mainly to put it off as long as possible, but also to let me try and get all the goddamn sheets washed from the my dad's visit.
More guilt where my MIL is concerned. Apart from the "no return ticket" crap (which bugs me shitless but is hardly unsurprising as she does this every time), everything's been OK with her, but I've now got to the stage where just seeing her or hearing her voice is enough to get my hackles raised and all my deep-seated aggressiveness bubbling out of me...
Maybe I have "issues".
Of course, my stress levels are through the roof because we owe so much money to so many people, and my clients are all dragging their feet about paying me and I'm overdrawn just about everywhere despite my dad giving me money and oh, it's all very depressing.
Don't really know what to do to get myself out of this ghastly financial hole. The ideal solution would be for D to actually start earning some money, but that seems as likely as his mother turning into a nice person, so I'm pretty much at my wits' end where money is concerned. Work is quiet at the moment, but I'm sure (hoping) that won't last and the reality is that I really can't work that much more than I already do.
Holy hell, I hate having to worry about money all the time!
At least the girls seem happy. Back to school has been good, we've met their new teachers (who seem pretty nice), the girls are both happy to be with their friends, their activities are all starting up (L's doing dancing and circus, C's doing circus and swimming).
I am feeling pretty frustrated with myself. I feel fat and bloated and ugly, I feel like I've failed pretty miserably professionally speaking, I feel out of place amongst the chic and elegant mothers at school. Our flat is still - surprise, surprise - a total mess, and I just get the impression that I can't ever get my life in order. I have so many good plans, good ideas, lists... and then end up doing nothing other than eat crap, stay up till ridiculous hours and play endless games on Game Duell (don't go there, it's hopelessly addictive, even if (like me) you only play the free games).
Every year, in January, I say that I'll get my life sorted once and for all. And then don't. Then I say the same thing every September, and it looks like I'm going to fail yet again.
And I don't even dare look at my somewhat rash "40 things before 40" list to see how many of those I failed.
I need help, I need to see my friends, I need to win the lottery (not much chance of that as I don't play).
I feel lonely and ashamed of my failure and, yes, guilty, for letting everyone down, starting with my parents, then myself, my teachers who had such faith in me, and now even my beautiful daughters who really do deserve someone better than me.
So, there you have it. Yet another moan-fest from the south of France.
I really do hope that one day I'll be able to write something utterly cheerful and frivolous!

Beginnings

Gosh, well. 12 July was actually almost 2 months ago (and certainly feels like an eternity ago). I'm so crap at this blogging lark...
So summer's officially over (even though it was probably 30°C here today and sunny...). The girls went back to school today: C, my sweet little 7-year-old, started in Year 3 (CE 2 here in France), which seems very big and serious, and my baby, my 5-year-old L, started in her last year of kindergarten. They were very excited and delighted to be going back and had a great time, so all's well. New felt-tip pens and crayons and what have you were purchased, hair was brushed (a rare occurrence, especially in the mornings), friends were back together. They both have nice teachers this year, I have a feeling all will be well. And no, C is not in the same class as the dreaded A...
As for our summer, well: the weather's been fantastic (sorry for any Brits out there - I know you've had a rough time!), we've been to the beach (or a local, manmade lake to avoid the sardines on the beach) more times than I can count, our holiday in St Jean de Luz was lovely, even if I didn't get my thalasso day (we couldn't afford it, I made the sacrifice), we went to a funfair, saw friends, had picnics...
Of course, there's still plenty for me to moan about: I actually dislike going to the beach because I feel horribly white (undeniable), fat (frequently commented on) and ugly (my opinion, but rarely contradicted), meaning I never even put my bikini on because I can't stand my muffin top blubber. Plus I swim like a lead brick. So, I do the "helping with swimming costumes-blowing up armband-drying off-packing up" routine, watch over the girls while D swims and sit there feeling resentful of all the lithe, tanned women around me.
As a result, our holiday was a little frustrating as we didn't actually do many of the things I would have liked to have done, instead going to the beach EVERY DAY. No thalasso, no stroll around the old quarter of San Sebastian and pintxos, no trip to a cave and a mountain lake, no museums (except the lovely Biarritz aquarium), no "typical Basque" dinner out, no cafés... just up late, lots of DVDs, laundry, shopping, cooking, cleaning and the beach.
I mean yes, it was a stunning place, and our flat was great, and the weather was glorious, and we did do a few things, but still. I feel like we missed out on quite a lot too.
Since we got back (a month ago), the mess in our flat has grown exponentially because we have actually managed to decorate the girls' room (stripped the wallpaper off - horrendous in 39°C weather - polyfilla-ed some of the holes, rubbed the whole room down, painted the whole thing cream), but we haven't found the time to put all their stuff back in it yet.
Also, my dad arrived here from 18°C Scotland last week, spent 2 days with us and then we took him down to the flat he's rented down at the beach for 2 weeks. The girls spent the night with him the day we painted their room, even if it still stinks of paint even now, 3 days later.
The girls and I took him to the lovely Alphons Mucha exhibition currently on at the Musée Fabre, and we're having lunch with him on Saturday.
The main problem is, as every year (third year in a row), my MIL from hell is arriving on Saturday, meaning they'll be in the same beach town together (though hopefully not really together - she is, at least, coming with a friend) for a week. My dad then comes back to us on 12 Sept (while my MIL is staying for "at least another week" - she never gives us a departure date, which is one of the many things that drive me BATSHIT CRAZY about her), will be spending the day with us at a friend's house in the country on the 13th (MIL can't come - our car only has 5 seats: HA!) and flies home on the 15th. As I said, God only knows when my MIL is leaving - her friend leaves on the 19th, so the last few days could be hellish as she'll be on her own...
What else? Heavens, so much seems to have happened...
Still no money, despite my wonderful dad's help (so humiliating to still have to rely on him to bale me out - I know it's D's "fault" for not having any income, but still. I really do feel as if I'm a monumental failure), not much work on the horizon except unpaid marking for my students from last year, still stressed as hell.
But we're planning on going to Scotland for Christmas, and I've got my eye on another translation conference in Lisbon, except that it's in May this time and I'd only get back late afternoon on Mother's Day, so I'll have to think about this.
I'm sorry - this feels very disjointed and incoherent, but I just wanted to get a post up before anyone who does actually bother to read this just assumes I'm dead or something...
I hope you all (hope springs eternal) had a good summer and that the Rentrée brings you all a happy, healthy and prosperous year (and for me, too!).

Fail

Yup, I failed. Didn't get to bed till 2.45 am, ate bonbons all morning (and made myself feel sick), got pretty much fuck all done today.

Total funk.

BUT. Did mention my heart's desire-for-a-birthday-present to D (a day at a spa place near where we'll be on holiday this summer), did get most of my tax forms done (not the main one, of course, but the smaller, easier ones. Plus the on-line declaration thing only doesn't work for me, so I'm pretty much fucked there too) and did do some work on the school newspaper (nearly printing time if I'm not mistaken), so not a total waste of time. Oh, and despite little sleep (in bed at 2.45, up at 7.30) I didn't go back to bed. What a hero.

And D started looking into cars (depressing business, but absolutely vital), and he's actually got some work to do, and the weather forecast no longer mentions storms and thunder, just rain, so maybe, just maybe, it'll all fizzle out and at least be dry for the party on Sunday, and bought L's main present - a Tinkerbell "computer" that she's been aching for since last year.

Still have a shitload of stuff to do, though.

And I'm totally motivationless at the moment. Can't be arsed to do anything. Feel fat and ugly, tired and dissatisfied, depressed and worried about money. Not to mention OLD.

With my MIL starting to get really nasty (last week, she and D had another row and she claimed that my father and I are a bad influence on him, that we're stifling his natural character and trying to transform him into "one of us" (which makes us sound like aliens when obviously we're not. Beep. Beep.) bla, bla, bla). All I can say is that I really hope I don't pick up the phone to her any time soon because I might just let rip - this woman is POISON and I've been too polite for too long. I feel that the time has come to get nasty right back.

Maybe this is the New Me - more candid, less conciliatory, more enflamed. More passionate, perhaps.

Anyway.

Day 16: I'm going to sort through all my clothes - four different piles: still wear, throw away, give away, keep but don't wear. And that last pile will go in plastic IKEA boxes down in the cellar. And then I'll really tidy up my wardrobe and drawers, so that I can find stuff when I want it and so that I can actually hang stuff up in the wardrobe. To be honest, I'm kind of embarrassed that I even have to write stuff like this - my guess is that to most people this is a total no-brainer. But mess is one of my middle names, and lazy is the other, so the result is heaps of stuff, badly folded, stuffed in drawers and on shelves, totally unfindable.

And please, keep praying that it won't rain on Sunday!

4.21 pm

Actually, by 4.15 I was home and dry (despite NOT being at home and it raining outside) because I took my MIL to the station. D's bad back has virtually crippled him which meant that I had to take my MIL, and I, unlike D and his mother, do not do things at the last minute. So we arrived at the station at 4 pm, giving my MIL time to buy the sandwich she didn't have time to make at our place (she also left behind the presents she got from the girls, plus some pictures they drew for her and no doubt a few other bits and pieces because OF COURSE she didn't PACK till the last minute) and I put her on the train not long after. By 4.15 I was free, sure and certain that she was ON the train and NOT going to miss it...

Oh, the relief!

To celebrate (and given that I had to be home by 5 to help D prepare for his first class as an English teacher), I went and had a Diet Coke at McDonald's because I REALLY KNOW HOW TO CELEBRATE. I am a WILD CHILD as you can see. This could also be why we have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING planned for New Year's Eve (for the second year in a row. PARTY ANIMALS, I tell you, PARTY ANIMALS. Even our 82-year-old neighbour is going out on the 31st...).

What I haven't mentioned is that my MIL and I had a small spat or two on the journey to the station, then again when she was already on the train. I swear, the woman is IMPOSSIBLE. But that's now irrelevant. She has gone home, we are back to ourselves once again, my stressometer is now free to redescend to its pre-Christmas level...

And I am SO GLAD we didn't go to Paris!

Maybe now I can enjoy the rest of the holidays - even if I have to do lots of work and won't really be on holiday again till Thursday.

And maybe I can finally stop boring you with tales of my MIL!

Time to go home

Yes, the time has come... Tempers are starting to fray (D have an unbearably painful back hasn't helped today, that's for sure), patience levels are running low, our usual daytime routines are shot to hell and I'm feeling stressed and exhausted...

It can only mean one thing.

It's time for my unbelievably irritating (and totally not helpful around the house) MIL to hit the road and head off home to Paris.

Luckily for me, her train leaves tomorrow at 4.20 pm. I really don' t think I can take much more.

Don't get me wrong - the visit hasn't really gone badly at all. But truly, she drives me insane, I feel totally unlike myself and find it increasingly hard to be civil.

I just want her gone, so we can go back to our own bed, be back on our own, living our lives as we want without having to listen to her "suggestions" (usually barely veiled criticisms) and endless drivelling chatter.

And the fact that I have long suspected that C is her favourite granddaughter (because, dixit my MIL, C looks like her side of the family whilst L looks like mine) really doesn't help, believe me.

Roll on 4.21 pm, that's what I say!

Oh, and maybe some more chocolate might help, too...

Fame at last!

Not only is Christmas (so far) going quite well (apart from the chicken pox and my MIL's usual irritatingness), but I'm also BOSSY'S FEATURED BLOGGER!

Oh my God, I'm so excited!

Happy Boxing Day to those of you who celebrate it (happy sales too, although they don't start here in France till, oh, 7 January or something), and keep eating those chocolates (me, I've just finished off a bowl of icing from the cake I made for C's birthday tomorrow and yes, I do feel kind of sick, making me think perhaps the icing is a tad sweet)!

Cravings

Spent this afternoon with some relatively new friends (we probably met them about a year ago at IKEA (of course) where our respective daughters started playing together and we then ended up chatting. And their daughters are at the girls' school, too).

The girls had a great time, and I enjoyed it too, but the visit made me crave... certain things. Not a baby (although their not-quite-one-month-old daughter is very cute), but a nice home. OK, the guy's an architect, which obviously helps, but their flat is just amazing - it's immaculately tidy in the "adult" parts and messy in the kids' parts, which makes it feel like a home (if it were immaculate everywhere I'd be suspicious ;-))), plus it's stylish and beautiful and modern and... just how I'd like our place to be, even though I know it never will.

And, their flat is in fact two flats - their original one, which was about the size of ours, plus a smaller one they bought (on the same landing). They've knocked doors through and made it into one huge flat.

So yes, I guess it's not just cravings, it could in fact be full-blown jealousy... Except that they're both so nice that you couldn't possibly not like them.

But oh, how I wish we could get our place sorted out. In my mind, I can see how it should (could) look, but we just never get there. D doesn't seem particularly bothered about certain aspects of the mess, and the girls have a very haphazard approach to tidying up, so everything ends up in a heap in a corner, at best. And I'm not without fault - my desk is a nightmare, as is all the floor "space" around it. But there's never time, and so much is part of a chain of events in which the first event never seems to get done...

I'm feeling a little down in the dumps, to be honest. And totally discouraged.

And my MIL will be here (with all her usual snarky comments and crappy advice) in 4 days, God help me.

"MIL is coming, Magic's getting stressed..."

...Sung, obviously, to the tune of "Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat..."

And yes, we finally got details of my MIL's trip to see us. This information has been hard to get, and fraught with stress all of its own (plus accusations of nastiness and false declarations and oh, the usual stuff involving my MIL), but at least we now know: she's arriving at 9 pm on the 25th (which suits me perfectly, I have to admit - we get Christmas Eve with friends, that night in our own bed (we sleep on the sofa when my MIL is here), present-opening just the four of us, a nice festive lunch on our own, a pancake tea party with friends in the afternoon and then, once the girls are in bed, and only then, will MIL arrive). Better still - not only has she actually bought her return ticket, she's even told us the time and date of her departure (not a common thing, believe me): she's leaving at 4 pm on the 29th, which means basically only 3 and a half days. I'm quite pleased, to be honest. Here's just to hoping that she doesn't arrive feeling as snarky as she's been on the phone these last few times and that we manage to keep our tempers under control till after C's birthday on the 27th...

And at least we now know - the whole "what are we doing for Christmas" thing has been up in the air since, oh, about October when my MIL first suggested we go up to Paris for her 70th birthday (end of November), to which I gave an emphatic "NO" (8 hours in a train for less than 24 hours there, at a cost of about 400 € just wasn't feasible). Then she started banging on about us going for Christmas, and I said "NO" to that too - too expensive (worse than in November), too tiring for the girls, we wouldn't be able to take their presents with us (bicycles - hardly the kind of thing you can sneak into your luggage) and her flat is TOO SMALL, it would be like Sartre's Huis Clos (only worse, possibly), and I didn't want to risk spoiling C's birthday. At least if we're here, there are possible escape hatches...

I know, I know, you must think I'm being unreasonably nasty about my MIL. But that just goes to show that you haven't met her (or, more likely, haven't had to LIVE IN CLOSE PROXIMITY with her). For which you should, in the spirit of this month's NaBloPoMo, give ETERNAL THANKS.

That said, I am starting to feel quite Christmassy; I've done most of my Christmas preparations (still 6 cards to make, write and send, still a small present to buy for C, plus her birthday present, plus D's presents, plus the food shopping to do, though that's usually D's job...), and I can't wait to start the wrapping up - I LOVE wrapping presents!

Plus, I have a cake to bake for tomorrow afternoon, and I love baking, too...

Maybe it'll even be pleasant with my MIL here after all... Miracles have been known to happen occasionally...

'Twas a dark and stormy night

Yikes, I've morphed into Snoopy...

No, not really, but it is dark and has been unbelievably stormy most of the day (the "big 'un" this afternoon had the wind whipping up tidal waves of water across the carpark outside our window...).

No further forward with our Christmas plans, either.

But the girls are getting very excited about the US Presidential Election - they've both decided they're for Obama because "John McCain won't help poor people" (C's remark) and "John McCain doesn't like sharing" (L's version). Can't say much to disagree with them, to be honest, though rest assured: I have no intention of going political here. Besides, I don't have the right to vote anywhere - I've lived outside of Britain for more than 15 years, thus forfeiting my right to vote there, and I've never taken on French citizenship, so can't vote here - so maybe I should just shut up and tune in to CNN on Tuesday night...

The wind's still howling and it feels very wintry here in Montpellier tonight. The girls have even started singing Christmas songs.

The end of the year is nigh, and I'm hoping all will be well with the world.

Jet lag

Hmmm... It seems that the clock on this blog is running on Californian time or something... My "first post for NaBloPoMo" was, I promise, written in the (very) early hours of 1 November... Yet once posted, the clock/calendar thing says 31 October at 6.15 pm...
Yet another of life's mysteries, I suspect.
But there's no doubt - today is definitely November! And with grey, heavy skies, imminent rain and lightning all evening, you can't mistake the season.
Matching my mood today, actually.
The likelihood of us having to go and spend Christmas (and C's 7th birthday, which is on 27/12) up in Paris with my mother-in-law is growing daily. I don't want to go, for a whole slew of reasons, the main one being "spending 5 days (or more, God help me) with my mother-in-law in Paris, all four of us (me, D, C and L) having to sleep in what was once D's childhood bedroom". Jean-Paul Sartre's "Huis clos" leaps to mind...
Plus, we've travelled quite a bit this year (which is good, I don't regret any of the trips we've had) and I was hoping to not have to spend 500 Euros on train tickets.
But my MIL's getting snarky on the phone, and D seems to be gradually caving in, and that's left me distinctly peeved, to put it mildly.
We were in Scotland last Christmas (costing 500 Euros, too) and it was OK, but tough too as my father and D don't always see eye to eye.
And I almost never see eye to eye with my MIL.
I know this sounds mean and pathetic - I should want my daughters to spend Christmas with their Mamie. But in the past, she's always come here. Not perfect, and usually pretty tense it has to be said, but at least we're at home and not stuck in Paris with no respite from the tension.
Plus, I remember my childhood Christmases - we were always either at my grandmother's house or at my aunt's. Never at home. My one, recurring Christmas wish was to wake up in my own bed on Christmas morning. And I had to wait till I was 19 to have it come true! I want my daughters to have their Christmas at home, I want C to be able to see friends for her birthday, I want to be with my beautiful cat... Not great reasons, I know, and I'll have to come up with something because I can't tell my MIL the real reason (I can't stand her and don't want to be stuck on her territory). Oh yes - we have a huge roof repair bill due to be paid in January... Hmmm. This might need working on...
And I'm quite willing for my MIL to come here - I've always done my best to prevent her coming at other times of year (she's pretty much impossible to live with), but this time, for once, I'd even be willing to pay for her ticket...
Yup, it's the dark season, and storms are brewing, in more ways than one.