Diary of a Desperate Wife and Mother - aged 35...and a half

At Least It's Friday

Friday

I enjoyed my day at home with Martin, except for the fact that he looks like he has been run over by a steam roller. It's been a very long time since I have been able to spend some time alone with my eldest son. We sat in front of the TV watching the TV programmes he used to love...Power Rangers and Pokémon amongst others and it was strangely comforting for me to see that although Martin is 13 and growing into a young man, the little boy he once was is still there. I actually had to go upstairs to shed a few tears when I thought of that little boy who had rocked my world from the second I held him. Mothers and sons is a very real thing. Scarlett was born just over a year before Martin and I felt that immediate and sudden rush of love for her but my overriding feeling had been fear. I really was shit scared to find myself at 20 married with a baby I was suddenly responsible for. I was pregnant when Paul and I married, who am I kidding? We married because I was pregnant. My Mum told everyone that Scarlett was a honeymoon baby, even when she was born almost '8 weeks early' according to my mother's timeline weighing in at a little over 8lbs. Nobody was fooled by my Mum's cover story, everyone knew exactly why I got married when I did.

My fear was quickly replaced with just love and amazement that I had been in any way responsible for making the little person that I loved a little more each day. Paul was besotted with his daughter and it was totally reciprocated meaning fathers and daughters is a thing too. By the time Martin was born, another surprise baby, we were on top of the whole parenting thing and I thought I knew how I would feel when my first son was born...I was wrong. With none of the fear I had felt the first time I only felt love and contentment. Finn was my only planned pregnancy because once Scarlett and Martin had been in full-time school for a couple of years I felt totally redundant and missed having a baby and then the decision was made. Paul has no issue with more children, never has had and left to him we'd probably have a couple more than we do. The fact that trying for a baby means lots of 'extra' unprotected sex was a definite plus as far as Paul was concerned I remember with a smile that Martin picks up on, his own smile disappearing once I answer his question of what I was thinking of with a simple, 'your Dad'.

I was back on Finn duty at home time after Paul had dropped him off in the morning. The sight of my son leaving school dressed in his school uniform from the waist up and his nylon PE shorts from the waist down was an unexpected twist to the usual home time routine. Monique, head together mum looked as though someone had just crapped in her designer shoe when she saw my son, who happened to be dragging his PE bag along the floor too. Unfortunately, the bag drag drew her attention to his feet that wore his sensible, leather school shoes with fresh new scuffs and odd socks! Socks he had chosen himself, one bright red Spiderman sock and one equally bright yellow SpongeBob sock. I was never going to be anything other than a failure as a mother in the eyes of the togethers with situations like this. Finn actually managed to have me blackballed by the sporty mums too when he shouted across to tell me had fallen over his own foot while running in the playground and landed in some mud...that had been bad enough but my fate was compounded when he added that there might have been some fox poo in the mud too because his trousers were really smelly! He then thrust the PE bag at me and I had to agree that there was a very good chance that poo of some sort had been in the mud and was now in my son's bag!

Paul ended up working late, pricing up a couple of jobs so went to the chip shop on his way home from work which was great in terms of not having to cook, not so good for the spare tyre around my middle that is struggling more each day to remain within the confines of my jeans. I really need to get a grip on some kind of healthy eating if I expect to wear a bikini with any pride when we go on holiday in a few months, but not tonight, tonight is kebab and chips and maybe a glass of wine.

We have no reading or times tables, we have homework instead, but we'll save that for the weekend, tonight I am doing nothing except writing my diary and I might grab five minutes with my 13 year old self and Steven Pallister.

Victoria's Diary aged 13 and a half

Steven has made it into the football team and our school are playing our nearest rival school. I have been invited to watch the match, by Steven...he wants me there, to support him and then we're going to go and have pizza, in an actual pizza place which is a rare treat for me. Along with pasta my Mum doesn't do pizza either. She has bought a couple from the supermarket but she certainly doesn't eat it herself so there's no way she'd take us to a pizza place. I have been a couple of times, once with my brother for my birthday and me and Gemma went to meet boys, like a boy she was seeing and he brought a friend with him. I hate being the friend, but now I'm not because I am the girlfriend, Steven's girlfriend. I have to go and get ready or I will miss kick off and I don't want to miss one second of Steven in shorts! Will report back later.....

So football, it's never been my thing really, but now, I LOVE it. Steven was amazing and he scored a goal. We won 3-2. There was a boy though, on the other team, he kept smiling at me every time he looked at me and then he winked when he ran past me. He was nice, blonde and tanned, really fit, but not as nice as Steven. I giggled at him and blushed but didn't think Steven noticed, it seems he did.

When the match finished and they were all coming off the pitch the other boy, Mark I think they called him, he stopped by me and looked at my boobs that looked bigger today in the tight jumper I wore with my skinny jeans and boots. Anyway, this Mark then smiled at me and asked if I wanted to go out, with him. Steven was behind him and heard him so grabbed him and told him I was his girlfriend but the other boy laughed and said it again to me so, oh my God, Steven punched him in the face! The teachers had to split everyone up because everyone started fighting then. I was worried that Steven would be in trouble, but he wasn't, not on his own, everyone was in trouble together.

We did go for pizza though. It was a bit weird because Steven was quieter than usual, but he held my hand all the way there and back. He even held my hand a little bit while we were eating and he walked me almost all the way home and kissed me, a lot and he touched my jumper over my boob...on purpose which was nice but also made me feel bad afterwards, guilty because of my Mum and God, but I mainly felt bad because I liked it and I really don't want to become a slag like Melissa Matthews.

I think my Mum is getting suspicious about me and Steven because she has told me to invite him round for tea and I will, just not yet because I think she will spoil it, she won't like him or understand him like I do.