Tom’s mum and sister, Clare, flew in for the weekend on Friday to see Annie for the first time. I hated having to share Annie with the people that, in my head at least, are such a risk to me and Annie and I just wanted to get in bed and snuggle with her instead of having to share her with the enemy.

Tom and I argued on the Friday night as he wanted to go out early to go to the pub with his family, but I had to wait until the children were settled with babysitters so he went alone and I, much later. I can’t help but resent him. If he’d just given me a hand with the kids we’d have been able to go out together, instead, he had another evening to himself while I did all of the work to sort the children out.

On Saturday night he got so drunk that he was incapable of doing anything the next day so I spent all of Sunday trying to entertain not only the children but his family too while he stayed in bed before we all went out for dinner that night. Tom then left home before me and the children for that too, wanting to go alone with his mum and sister, leaving me to get four children ready on my own. By the time we got there, Annie was screaming with hunger, the other children were getting tired and hungry and we walked in to find Tom, his mum and sister huddled together at one end of a table which left us to sit on our own, segregated at the other end while Tom commented about how rude it was for me to take so long to get there.

After an hour of trying to calm a very unsettled baby, three children that were getting over-excited and still being ignored by Tom and his family, other than dirty looks from him the whole time, I left Annie with Josh and escaped to the toilets where I broke down crying.. Stemming the tears and ignoring my now puffy, red eyes I faced the humiliation of having to walk back through the restaurant to my table and act as if nothing had happened, while Tom kept his head down and ignored me some more. It was too much. I hate him.

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