The girls and I got back from Greece Saturday night. We had a nice time. Very chilled out. We went to Greece last year as well but the resort wasn't as nice and the children complained when we got back that there wasn't a lot for them to do.
This year I picked a resort which was a little more expensive, but included lots of activities for the children. There was tennis and sailing, and waterskiing etc. We enjoyed it, but D13 refused to join in any of the organised activities for children, which meant that D9 also refused. We did do some of the water activities, but as it wasn't part of the organised activities, I had to pay extra. Whilst the other guests all got to know one another (through their kids) it was the three of us pretty much for the entire week. I don't think I'll do another one of those type of holidays. On one level, I don't think I'm that person. There was a lot of people in lycra riding bikes and doing boot camp classes. There was also a lot of beige. I am not a person who wears a lot of beige. I don't think I ever was. My H would have liked the middle classness of it all. He would have felt like he had made it. No longer the kid whose parents worked blue collar jobs and lived in a state owned house.
Anyway, a week in the sun has left me very tanned.
I did think about him once or twice. When I had to blow up the lilos (blow up water thingys in various shapes that you sit/lay on in the pool). This had always been his job. I had never thought about it before. I would either be unpacking or sorting out the children, and suddenly, there they'd be. A host of blow up plastic animals lined up outside our room, all ready for the children to take to the pool. This time, there I was in the scorching heat, blowing up lilo after milo, realising what a painstaking and horrible task it is, and cursing him leaving. He was also the one that would spend more time with the children in the pool. D9 hanging on to his back whilst he swam around, jumping off his shoulders, playing games with him. The things that you remember that they did that you never appreciated. I also thought that now, that they are older, we no longer need to be on constant alert. They can both swim, they can walk around the resort. We would have been freeier. We could have had a drink, read a book, sunbathed. So even though the holidays would still be about and for our children, the holiday could also now be a relaxing time for us. We could be us again.
I guess this is a reminiscing entry. I did not intend it to be. I spoke in a previous entry about how he told me two days before I was going away with the children, that he too would be going away. I didn't get around to speaking of my reaction. I simply said "OK". Then, instead of getting him to drive us to the airport (as we had agreed), I organised a car to take us then sent him a msg saying "Don't worry about the lift. I've organised a car. We are leaving at 10 if you want to come around before and see the children". So, all that strength Yorkie talks about above. Sometimes we all falter. The children wanted to go with their dad so I agreed but I said that I'd booked the car and could no longer cancel, so would just meet them at the airport instead. Nose, meet face. I cut you off to spite it.
I am trying to be better. Today when he dropped off the children, instead of meeting him at the door and making things uncomfortable, I invited him in for a tea. We spoke for 15 minutes. Nothing significant. Just everyday logistics and small talk. He asked how our holiday was and I replied in the way I would have if a colleague were to ask - detached but happily, with a few funny stories thrown in. I am well versed in small talk. I did not however ask him how his holiday was. Nor did I ask where he went. I'm learning, one step at a time though.
I don't know if I am unique here. I suspect not. But my H is a good man. He loves his kids. He would do anything for them. I can see he is also trying to fight his resentment and open up to me again. Not in an "I want to get back together with you way" but in a "I want to try and be friends". He initiates small talk. He looks downtrodden when he leaves. I think buried somewhere under that resentment, guilt and shame, he still loves me (though not to the point that he would ever say) so it is worth, I believe, trying to rebuild something with him. I know I have the strength to detach. I know I have the strength to be on my own.
Now I need to find out if I have the strength to open myself up to him. To be honest with him. Again, this is not to R. But so we can be something other than silent antagonism.
