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Thom's Seed (part IV)

About how Deirdre settles into Planet Mum. In Holland. With her baby, her boyfriend Thom, and all his seed.

Afbeelding blog 'Thom's Seed (part IV)'

She could have known, really. She should have known that Thom was going to be unhelpful.

Last year, shortly before falling pregnant, they’d gone on a romantic mini-break to the Lake District. Green hills, lovely little pubs, clattering brooks, a dab of sunshine and all the time in the world made Deirdre only fall harder in love with Thom. He looked exactly like a movie star. That hunky one from Black List. Funnily enough, he was called Tom: without an 'h', but close enough. And he was her favourite actor. See? This was meant to be, she’d thought at the time.

One afternoon, when they were out at Old Hall Farm licking each other’s green and blue Jersey milk ice creams – truly phenomenal treats– a stream of kids zoomed past them, shrieking and laughing as they thundered towards the Shire Horses. Thom had stopped mid-lick, his tongue momentarily frozen.
“Gaaaaaah, look at that insane amount of kids. It would drive me mad . That noise!”
“Oh oh oh,” Deirdre had laughed, a loving gaze in her eyes, “I’d love to have a gaggle of kids one day.”
“Should we ever end up having them,” Thom then giggled, “you can do all the looking-after and all the...whatever it is one does with children. The, ehm, the whatnots." He'd scraped his throat and righted his back. "I’ll just stand by proudly, happy to see my super seed will finally have managed to break into your mysterious eggs.”

Deirdre had almost dropped her ice cream, hooting with laughter. “I’ll tell you what, my love, if we ever end up having chickens, you can do all the caring. I’ll just stand by to eat their freshly laid eggs.”
“Come here, you,” Thom had whispered huskily. He ripped the ice cream out of her hands, chucked it in a cow-shaped bin, and hurriedly hauled her off to the toilets, where they secretly-
Alright, Deirdre thought, we all know what happened there.

Truth is, when you’re so deeply in love with someone, you fail to see that their jokes are embedded with disgusting slivers of dark truths.

Though never in a million years would she have believed her own partner to be this unhelpful. How could he have alienated her the way Thom was doing now? When had he ever changed a nappy? The few times she’d confronted him about Nappy Duty, he’d scoffed and said things like, “I can hardly be expected to show up at work with shit for a tie, can I?” and “I’ve sniffed her bottom. Yuck! My man-stomach is not biologically programmed to withstand that stink. Only mothers are. You should be happy, Deirdre. It’s what makes you special.”
Of course, she could fight it more. Somehow, however, she did not feel she could muster the strength. Not on those flea-sized bits of sleep.

Never in some zillion years had Deirdre thought being a mother was this hard. She knew what hard work was. She understood the term ‘working 24/7’ from her London jobs. She had never stopped working. Not even on Christmas Eve. Yet somehow, this was a hard on a whole different level.

In London she'd been able to read or send the odd quick e-mail during mani-padis, or scrumptious sushi buffets. The same order with a baby? Forget it. She needed her hands and feet available around the clock. It was stressful. Even when she sat down, she never knew when she'd be called again. Thirty minutes later? Thirty seconds?
Deirdre had basically turned into a big, fat mama-hawk, who had to be alert, on the ball, and there 24/7, with NO time for nails, hair, skin, clothes, make-up, or, and this was the worst, her own thoughts.

So yes. If only she’d read between the lines when Thom and she had been joking about kids and chicks...

By now it was too late. She was in a trillion miles deep. And if Deirdre was going to be an inch of a good mother that she should be this Sunday, thus giving her daughter the fresh air those know-it-all books say babies so desperately need, she was going to have to lug all the baby equipment down the skinny steps all by herself. Again.

(Stay tuned for more entries on Deirdre's new life- and Thom's Seed.)

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