Friday night and I was missing her, so I sent my daughter a BBM to tell her so. I asked what she was doing and she replied “Watching a movie with Dad and xxx.” A viper slithered across my heart. She has a knickname for this new woman already? While my kettle boiled for a soothing cup of tea I reflected and came to the conclusion that having a pet name for she-who-will-become-the-stepmother can only mean that my child is fond of her and this must mean that the woman can’t be a demon. I must be grateful for that. I guess.
“Step Mom, you entered our family at my father’s side with wisdom and patience. Though of your flesh I was not conceived, you cared and filled an empty need.” – Author unknown.
Empty need … oh bugger off; you can never take my place as her mother!
I’m trying to create a refuge her for my girl, in case things get hairy over there. We went together to choose her wall colour and curtains. Unfortunately, she drew the short end of the stick – the view from her room was obscured by curtains when I viewed that flat prior to purchasing it and I didn’t see this appalling vista:
It was a great challenge to transform the ugliest room in the place into a tranquil space. My clever girl chose silver brocade for the windows – she’s a chip off the old block, it seems: if you’re given an ugly lily just gild it!
This is just a corner of the room; it’s three times the size. Her dad still needs to bring over her armchair and desk for another corner and she needs to bring over her posters and personal knicknacks to make it truly her own.
Many ugly lilies have come to the front as I go about redecorating the apartment. The previous owner has shown himself to be a cad and bounder of the first order. New flaws reveal themselves daily and money drains out as I get people in to fix things; a litany of dodgy plumbing leaks not being the least alarming. I am told that I have legal recourse for things like this:
Your scoundrel also did such charming things like removing every lightbulb from every ceiling fitting in the flat and replacing the gas bottle for my stove hob with an empty one.
I’m striving to be stoic and roll with the punches and to match calamity with serenity. I’ve come close to conceding defeat a couple of times, but at such times I’ve found chocolate to have the necessary palliative properties…