It’s all in the planning……!

and that's just the cartoon! 

Best laid plans and all that, is one of the phrases that I have referred to least of the last couple of years. Planning to even get out from under the duvet the night before the morning of said getting out, proved a challenge. Once the plan is there, in your head, on paper, it all becomes real and you have to do it, or you’ll let someone (or yourself) down.

The turning point for me was starting to think about what I had achieved, rather than the plans I had failed. At the start of it all, I was at work fulltime, still having to live with the person who had destroyed me and taking care of a 4 year old boy, who was very confused about why Daddy was sleeping in a different room and didn’t spend any time with him. I achieved an awful lot. In fact my diary was one of the most planned diaries your will ever see. Halfway through this period we changed nannies, which for my son could have been traumatic.  I planned the whole situation with military precision. The new nanny stared the week before the existing one left, we went out for lunch, we talked about visiting and staying in touch.  Overall he coped very well, I have to say primarily down to the new nannies’ capabilities and calm approach. The day that Daddy left was very different.

I really tried hard to plan how it should happen, however got to the point where it became futile. That’s the thing with plans, if the others that have to act within it, don’t want to or are afraid of taking part – the whole thing becomes a frustrating mess.  One part of the plan I knew I had to carry out was being at the house when he left and making sure that my son wasn’t. As I said before having a wonderful, empathetic and supportive nanny made that last part east, the first part was much harder. Being physically near my said husband made me sick, proper run to the toilet , can’t control it sick. So planning to make myself be in that situation was going to be hard. However his girlfriend had already emailed across a copy of the furniture that she felt would fit with hers in their new house (yes really!) so I knew I had to ensure he left with his clothes and nothing else. She also wanted to move into the house instead of me and my son, so there was another reason to be there. Oh, and I nearly forgot, the weekend after my husband realised that it really was over, I came back to the house to find anything of any real value gone – pictures, large quantities of very good wine, bikes, digital cameras, playstation, ipods , DVD players etc etc – without even letting me know that is what he was doing – so I kinda figured that he wasn’t to be trusted. The only other plan I had, was to get the locks on the house changed as soon as he left. I knew that she would want to get into the house whenever she could and he would just turn up, as he hadn’t got what he wanted, so was bound to come back for it. Legally there is an interesting argument over whether I could actually change the locks or not, my summary of which was that it would be very difficult and costly for either side to prove their case. Therefore I felt that my sanity far outweighed the risk, so the locks were changed. I was proved right – he moved out on the Friday – on the Monday he called to ask why he couldn’t access the house with his key and why had I changed the locks?! I could use lots of * and give you the actual words he used, but it’s not worth it – I’m sure your imagination will do the rest. So my planning on that score was successful.

Having always been known as a planner and someone in charge of their life, it went downhill from there. The legal process I now found myself in was costly, painful and lengthy. Courts do not like dealing with things that are outside of their normal remit. Solicitors and barristers love it and charge accordingly. I was trying to manage a distraught child (who was just starting school for the first time),  a new job (subject of another blog) and a voracious solicitor who demanded ridiculous amounts of time, money and nastiness. Plans never worked. I woke up most nights (if I had gotten to sleep) panicking that I wouldn’t be able to manage – so I’d write down what needed to be done – get up in the morning and the list or plan would scare the life out of me, literally, so I would just put it to one side and try to function for that day alone. It was scary to be in this place where you know you are going to struggle to cope with a whole day, let alone what the next few days weeks or months could bring. Particularly as I had a child that I was now wholly responsible for. My still husband had found inevitable place as the fun Dad who played games, bought toys and went to McDonalds. He took no responsibility for anything – least said!.

So I have spent the last 2 years, not really planning anything or if I do its small, manageable and achievable – and more importantly if I don’t achieve it I laugh at my ineptitude if I do I eat some chocolate cake!

Interestingly, since I first wrote this blog, I have started working in a great job within an inspirational culture. I’m planning for England, with military precision – it’s great, I’m achieving, thriving and loving it. My duvet does not even get a consideration in the mornings, even on the weekend. What a difference 23 months and 25 days make!

I’m planning to launch very soon – this plan will definitely come to fruition. 


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