My first post

Here goes, my first post. Why am I doing this? Why does anyone? Is anyone interested in my dysfunctional life in inner city London, does anyone share these feelings and experiences?

Setting the scene: at home on the (ragged old George Smith) sofa, in my tartan (vintage Boden) dressing gown and Primark pj's, two boys upstairs still going to bed noisily, the little one fast asleep in my bed downstairs (fingers crossed he doesnt wet it again as I cant cope with anymore washing, nowhere to hang it and not enough radiators). The fathers of the offspring are 1) living with extremely elderly mother in Thameside leafy suburb 2) delivering tweed jackets to fellow Cameroonian in Plumstead. On the TV, light relief, Ben Stiller, absolutely love his movies, and on the hi fi, Renaissance love songs which I inflicted on them during Sunday lunch (roast chick, baked Maris pipers, brussels). I'm trying to resist nibbling (mince pie and M & S extremely thick brandy cream) so perhaps writing this will help.

We went to church today and when I saw Baby P's class TA, who is helping him settle in, thought we would sit next to her as it might help him behave. Husband's preferred position is in the last row at the back. Children were invited to go to the room at the back during the sermon, then when we returned, just before the Peace, he whispered angrily to me that he would not kiss me, as is our custom, just greet. This seems rather petty as I write it, and maybe nothing worth noting, but I did feel hurt, and felt as if I was meant to feel hurt. I told him he was a hypocrite. Afterwards, at coffee in the hall, one of the ladies of the church saw him being angry with me, and while I went off to buy the papers (Mail, only for the free Lennon CD) she cornered him and when I returned, he was being told he should get a proper job immediately, rather than waste time setting up his not for profit service providing environmental education to schools. He tried making various excuses along the lines of racism, looking after the little one, was studying until June...but she pointed out that her son in law, also African, had worked the whole time since marrying her daughter (who tragically died of a stroke aged only 40, and her widower is still looking after his stepchildren). She said there is an agency in a shopping precint a couple of miles away used by Africans, and made him agree he would try it.

We married in the same church nearly five years ago; so little has happened in our lives, and yet so much, and it now feels quite different. Then we were hopeful, new parents, him with a new country, new life and new stepchildren. Not much was new for me, but we planned to go to Cameroon and set up an educational charity there, I would teach and pursue art projects....there followed a long war of atrition with the Home Office; he was detained for the second time in Dungavel, previously it was Campsfield...his lawyers were closed by the Law Society, asylum claim rejected, we appealed, I went to court with him twice and eventually he was given limited leave to remain nearly two years ago. As he couldnt work at first I found him a course at the local college as he wanted to do accountancy; he had been a qualified teacher back home.

In the meantime, I was coping with everything else, the two big ones, the new baby, and finishing my PGCE, then finding a job, then doing an incredibly stressful NQT year in a school plum in the middle of a postcode war zone. I was going through a early menopause (no doubt caused by stress) and had a bunionectomy (yes, really) which went septic, followed closely by a nasty bout of double pneumonia, add in an appeal for the secondary school of choice for the elder boy, and living on one minimal salary...in a house which is overcrowded by the accepted definition, plus all my friends have left the area in the last few years...things couldnt have been much worse. No wonder I was on anti depressants.

Things got better last year when I moved to another school and I now have a wonderful job which is in fact my 'safe place'. Husband (H) failed accountancy finals, (yes I know they are notoriously difficult) and in any case had by mid summer made no effort to find a job. He had to revise for retakes, and we are now awaiting his results (due Feb). He spent the autumn delivering and collecting little to his nursery and playgroup, and so is now free to get going as little has finally gone fulltime.

Running out of steam now, or getting depressed thinking about all this, so closing soon. This week weve got registration for confirmation classes, for eldest. Something on Friday cant remember what, and then I'm thinking of going to my old college for a private view of an exhibition, think on Sat. Would be nice to get together with an old friend I used to work with who lives there, maybe I could stay overnight, think I deserve a break, but it wont be popular with H. And the Al Green album I ordered, Lay it down, should arrive, and Barack Obama heralds a Brave New World from Tuesday.