I’m Moodle... Your Brand New Man

The Squeeze went off for his monthly visit to the Nut Doctor on Tuesday night.  This is in the hope that one day, he will become a real human; so far this has not been a success.

He was born with a retarded 6 drops of essence of “romance”; five drops of “Moodle sauce”.  And now that the stirring is done, I daresay that not unlike Milton the Monster, that is just who he is and I must deal with it (or kill him off...)

After the Nut Doctor, it is usual for him to walk in the door clutching some sort of weird drawing in his hand.  A simple glance at this will easily give me a synopsis of the session.  I can tell with one fleeting glimpse what facts that idiot has twisted in his head and exactly how they have been presented.

The first few sessions had little circles drawn in thick black texta; all on an even par.  In the middle of each, was a stick figure; the Squeeze in one, the Harridan in another to one side and me crammed into a circle on the other side.  Simple really; a visual representation of being stuck in the middle which I suspect was true enough.  Still, you don’t need a degree in psychology to understand that if he attempts to keep the peace and just continues to obey the Harridan at every turn – then that was never going to work.  I believe he may even be starting to get that, albeit, slowly.

Then this week, there was a change in the diagram.  The Harridan didn’t even make it onto the drawing.  Instead, we had the Squeeze, the Kid and me; three circles equally intersecting and distinct lines in the sand to dictate “relationship” and “parenting”. 

I decided that some actual conversation around what was discussed and a possible resolution was required because I may have been drawn as an equal circle with as much input in the intersecting as the others, but that is not the reality. 

And I decided that I wasn’t going to pull any punches or hold anything back.  I have said previously, the day he comes home and says the kid is moving in, is the day I’m helping him find another place – because that isn’t happening... Not on my watch!  I never wanted to go back to parenting a teenager; I still don’t and mummy has always had such a tight hold that I figured I was safe there.

So looking at the picture, both the Moodle and the Nut Doctor seemed to have forgotten something in their doodles and arrows and lines.  While scratching about relationships and scrawling “his home” under the kid’s circle they forgot to get my perspective on it.  The Squeeze and I live a life alone and then 2 days a fortnight the kid is there – so how can they all have the same input and consideration requirement?  In my world, this is OUR home and 90% of the stuff in it is things that I have collected and restored over the years.   

Yes, he can parent all he likes and I have never wanted that role (I’d rather be staked to an ants nest and covered in honey.)  Hell no, I don’t want that, he is welcome to it; but he must actually ‘parent’ him.  He must put controls and rules in place that protect me and the things that are important to me.  Everyone’s needs and requirements must be address; not just theirs.  Up to this point, I have been left with the feeling that my needs are worth less than everyone else that exists in the equation – and I didn’t sign up for that.

So how do we do this?  Via compromise I suppose.

I won’t live a slovenly life and nor will I have my things used harshly.  My compromise is that my home looks more chaotic now than it ever has; and I deal with it.  And in truth, I don’t see that what I am asking for is even about parenting; it is about manners and respect.

So I decided to put my own “compromise” line in the sand; if his requirement was to have the kid an additional night a fortnight, this would work better for me, if he came on the Friday night and maintained the Sunday afternoon home time. 

From his perspective, it really isn’t any different other than he won’t have to have the added stress of the Monday morning debacle of this week.  From my perspective, they will be up early and gone for the Saturday morning so I can keep my routine; and come Sunday afternoon, I can continue my “pour a glass of red, unwind, clean up and distress!”

I’ve put it to him; it will be interesting to see what answer I get back...