So, my DH was away this weekend doing errand type stuff, and it’s his first MD without his mum so I kind of encouraged it so he wouldn’t dwell, which means I’ve been sorting out lunch. Don’t mind all that, love cooking Sunday lunch and they can wash up.
However…
DD, 15, phoned me (phoned me!!!!) around 8.30 to come upstairs and help as she’d spilt some water on her bedside table. I rushed up as the last time she did this there was a flood and she had electronics in the mix. This time, a simple wipe with a cloth was all that was needed and I called her a dafty and let it go, as she looked like she wasn’t fully awake yet. I went back to prepping the meat for the oven and didn’t see her again until 9.45, when she wandered into the kitchen and started looking in the fridge. I asked if she would give me a bit of help after she’d had some breakfast and I immediately got back ‘I’m revising! I need to start revising at 10!’ So I explained as calmly as possible the couple of things I wanted her to do, all of about 15 minutes work, and she said, ‘Listen, I’m telling you…’, at which point I might have raised my voice and said, ‘No, I’m telling you!’ She stormed upstairs and I haven’t heard from her since.
DS, 13, wandered downstairs slightly later on, but I did get a hug. Nothing else, but I know his memory is awful. But I also know his father called him yesterday to remind him to go buy a card! I asked him to make me a cup of tea whilst I carried on tidying and such. He put the kettle on, put the tv on, then asked if I could make the tea! He seemed put out when I said, no!
So, I’m starting to stew. Do I say something or just put it down to teenagers and be grateful that they’re here, happy and healthy? DH then phones on his way home and asks if I’ve had any cards yet. I very nearly start then and say, no. Moments after he says goodbye, I hear DS’s phone. And he talks to his father. Then he goes back to the front room and puts the tv back on.
I’m sat here telling myself, it’s just a day, this is just their normal, I should be grateful, etc. and so forth. But it still hurts. Don’t care about cards or chocolates, just some fucking acknowledgment and an offer of help would be nice.