Thanks for the kind words and hugs ladies. I'm not crying today, so that is good. But I am still so bloody angry!
I understand the idea that the more I moan the more he won't want to be at home, etc, but unfortunately I don't think not maoning makes any difference. This is a problem that we just go round and round in circles with. It always gets to the stage where we have a huge barney and he promises to change (in the past this has been by many different means, for eg, a) not drinking at all at home, only down the pub, b) only going down the pub, say, twice a week c) only going down the pub twice a week or for other "occasions", d) only drinking beer in the pub twice a week and having coke the rest of the time, e) only going down the pub after the kids are in bed, etc, etc, etc.) Whichever method he has come up with works for a few weeks then starts slipping back to the old ways. But whenever he has come up with a suggestion, I go with it and don't moan at all. Yet he always ends up going out more and more, and lying about it to boot!
I have tried so hard to encourage him to take up other things - 5-a-side football, golf at the putting range, poker nights with friends. But the only people he seems to really view as friends are those that are down the pub 7 days a week, and that take the mickey out of him for "not being allowed" to do the same himself.
One of the things that makes me most cross is the lack of equality. I mean, as he sometimes points out I can go out whenever I want. But that just isn't true when there are children involved. My day consists of getting the children to school, getting me to work, picking the children up from school, going home and sorting homework, housework, dinner, etc. Where in that lot can I just pop down the pub (or the equivalent)? Everything I do has to take into account the children.
The other week, I was out 3 evenings in a row. Once for about 4 hours, the next night for 1.5 hours and the next night for 2 hours. Obviously he couldn't go down the pub (except he managed to quickly after work for a pint!) So the next night (a Saturday) I thought it would be nice for us to spend the evening together as I felt like I had hardly seen him. However, his thoughts seemed to be that he hadn't been able to go down the pub properly (particularly bad on his favourite Friday evening out) so he wanted to go down the pub.
Oh, just look at me, ranting on again. I know that no-one can really say anything to help. But I just feel so frustrated about it. I really feel like it will be the damn pub that will be the end of our relationship eventually. It feels like a terminal illness in our relationship, something which I have no power over whatsoever. How depressing is that when there are already children involved, and another one on the way?
Anyway, I shall stop all this now and will tell you about my yoga last night instead! How bizarre! The teacher was in a flowing orange robe thing, and sat down watching and instructing the whole time! I get the impression that she is, perhaps, a little scary!! But I intend to persevere with it as I think it can only do good with preparing my body for late pregnancy and labour.