Rainy days and mondays

This morning I was up at 5.45am. I went for a run in the rain, got back to where I’m staying and showered. I got dressed and made coffee. I even whistled a bit. It’s a rainy day and a Monday but I was feeling good. It could be a glorious day. YAHOO!

I was up early as we had a bit of a concern on Saturday that the children might have contracted chicken pox. They’d spent time with kids who’ve had it recently so it was a possibility. K had a rash and was sleepy and T wasn’t on form. Hear that in the background? That’s the Pox Possibility Klaxon

I didn’t see them on Saturday but on Sunday they were on great form. A little pimply rash on K’s legs was the only sign that this could be an issue but we took precautions, and my ex-wife suggested that I be on stand-by should the kids not be able to go to playgroup. And so I was, hence the early rising this morning. Stop sniggering at the back.

I received a textΒ  this morning saying they were both really well and bouncing around. A false alarm, so they went to playgroup. 7.30am and since getting up was keyed up for a much missed, much wanted day back in the SAHD-ddle, but no. Oh well.

I was disappointed. But the kids love playgroup so I know they’ll have fun and have a great day. Me? I’ll just do what I usually do.

So I went to the supermarket. On the way I had a list in my head of things I wanted. I wanted some fresh orange juice, some fruit. Some good stuff to keep me hale and hearty. But on the way I saw mums with their children, stomping about in wellies, carrying umbrellas and splashing in every puddle they could, much to their parent’s disappointment. “OH HURRY UP WILL YOU WE’RE GETTING BLOODY WET” shouted one. I blame Peppa Pig entirely for this puddle mullarky.

I saw these things and smiled, remembering my own kids, and then a bit of me cracked. The good feeling I had disappeared and I slumped. I wanted to have a day with the kids. I was fucking well looking forward to it. I had been all night and yes, my thoughts were entirely selfish. I cracked a bit more because of this entirely selfish feeling.

‘How are you? Haven’t seen you in ages? And where are your lovely children? Haven’t seen you with them for months’ said a woman who works in the supermarket, a woman who always says very complimentary things when she sees my children. Or should I say ‘used to say’ these things. When life was different.

I cracked a bit more and cried. I sobbed actually. She looked terrified. I took a deep breath and explained how life changed. Not in great detail just the broad strokes.

‘Oh that’s a shame. You’re such a great dad to those lovely kids. We all used to talk about you and it was lovely seeing a man care so much for his children, when so many people just moan at theirs. Please don’t cry. You’re a wonderful dad.’

Am I? Really? StandingΒ  crying by the cheese and dips aisle. That’s not a wonderful anything. That there my friend is a pathetic mess. And I bet they’ll have something else to talk about now. ‘Remember that bloke who came in with his kids every day? I saw him cracking up a bit in aisle 7.’

I walked back to where I’m staying. I can’t call it a home. I don’t think I ever will. I had one of those once but this isn’t one of those. I checked my phone. No text saying ‘actually the kids are a bit poorly now, can you look after them today?’ A silver car like my wife’s was parked close to where I stay. Perhaps that’s them? Perhaps she just came round and is dropping them off to me for the day but I wasn’t there! Shit! I ran to the car but I soon saw it wasn’t her car. It wasn’t her dropping them off to me.

Today they’ll have a great day at playgroup. They’ll have fun. Which I want for them. Obviously. But today? For me? I haven’t a clue what I’ll do.

I need to find a job. So I’ll do that. Yes, positive thoughts. Good. I’ll do that. I’ll make a coffee and get on.

But just after I’ve cried a bit more eh? I don’t think anyone would begrudge me that.

I blame the rain. It’s a shit day out there. And its a Monday. Rainy days and Mondays eh?

Thanks for reading. I’ll do a more upbeat post for my next one but I just had to get this out. I probably won’t see anyone, or speak to anyone else today, and this stops the stuff from festering in my headbox. I’m sure I’ll be awesome again in a few minutes.

18 responses to “Rainy days and mondays

  1. It’s so lovely the impression you make on people when your with your children, people remember you because of how brilliant you are with them and praise you. That’s fabulous.
    As for the crying, believe me you’re not the first to do that! I’m sure plenty people walk around supermarkets crying, I know I have.
    Good luck with your job search xxx

  2. *hugs* I cannot imagine the emotions that you go through every day. From following your posts I can deduce that you are an amazing Dad loud and clear. Our children forever hold our hearts in their hands so small wonder tears are shed.

  3. How wonderful that people notice what an amazing Dad you are. Your love for them must ooze from you.
    We’ve all cried in supermarkets at some time or other. But then we stop, we remind ourselves how much we’re loved by the people we love the most, we smile, then get on with things…
    Hope the sun shines on you today xxx

  4. Getting it out there is a good thing. You are in mourning for your old job, go with the flow, work through the emotions. And believe

    You will feel better at some point.

    Am thinking of you today and looking out for your tweets

  5. I hate days like that, when you have expectations of this fantastic time and then it all goes tits up 😦

    But you know, you can still make it a very productive day. Channel the energy into something else, like you say finding a job or something like that. It could turn out fantastic still!

    And if it doesn’t then you have a whole twitter family just waiting to cheer you up πŸ™‚ xxx

    • Good point. I’m trying to channel and do something positive and constructive. If I succeed then I will reward myself by watching the match this afternoon. πŸ™‚

  6. big hug and a big kick up the arse for crappy rainy mondays. i bet its nice for those shop workers to see a happy dad with happy kids and im sure they genuinely feel for you x

  7. That’s shite with a capital S….be really nice to yourself Spencer, you’re grieving for the life you had, look after you a bit xxxxx

  8. Working with the public we get a lot of regulars at the Hotel and you do genuinely like these people and have some sort of relationship with them. I am sure this is how the women in the supermarket feel about you. She probably wanted to give you a hug!
    I won’t let Ethan watch Pepper Pig because there is a time and place to jump in puddles! xxx

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