In a few weeks time we'll be in Australia for a visit. Because LB's ex is a cunt, I've not allowed myself to get excited about going. There was a chance that she would have used the need for a change of weekend against LB, ultimately causing him to choose between continued contact with his daughter and meeting his new wife's family. The fact is contact with Mad 'wins' hands down. And as it should. So I wasn't letting myself get excited about our trip while there was a chance it was just going to be my trip. There's nothing exciting about a lovely holiday with your husband...without your husband.
It seems LB's nuclear warhead is bigger than hers right now, though, and despite a great deal of pain and anguish (and a face to face meeting between her and yours truly this Sunday gone which went so bad it's just not worth repeating the details of) his ex has backed off for a bit. I know why, she thinks she's got LB convinced otherwise, but for now none of it matters. We're going to Australia.

I've found the past few months really challenging, on a lot of levels. Not to be one of those frustrating bloggers who wave juicy stuff in front of the twelve or so people who bother to read their self-absorbed and pointless waffling, only to never really reveal what it is they are alluding to, but...there is so little point in blogging the stuff that I can't change.
What I am trying to do, though, is let the things that I can't change just flow around me and come to their own conclusions. There is only one thing more frustrating than not learning from your own mistakes, and that's re-hashing the same stuff over and over again and expecting the poor unsuspecting blog reading public to continue to give a damn.

In brief, though, LB's ex is still a cunt, I don't want to be a wedding photographer, I love LB with all my heart, Sam is still dead, I'm not pregnant and my cats are ace.

I'm off to bed now.