Today I had someone ask me if Jacob is going to be in kindergarten next year, and after I said yes she asked with a hint malice," Well, what are you going to do with yourself then?"
You see, I am a stay at home mom. Not because I believe I am better than anyone else, or find that though we have sacrificed greatly for me to stay at home with our babies that my sacrifices are greater than those of anyone else. I simply did what I thought was best for MY kids.
So many things ran through my mind in a matter of seconds. I want to snap back that I would probably CONTINUE to do the thousands of things I do every day, you know like laundry, cooking and general cleaning up for 4 other people. I would continue with the tedium of clipping coupons to scrimp since we are on one income, shopping for the best deals and sales to stretch our income, agonizing over bills and sticking to a budget to buy those groceries, spend bits and pieces of time with my kids, fretting over my jewelry business and struggling to make time for it... day dreaming about creating something with my hands like painting or drawing.
On top of all of those things struggling to get out of bed in the morning because of unbreakable cycle of insomnia... which makes my debilitating fibromyalgia pain and chronic fatigue syndrome much worse. Developing a new heart problem which contributes to the fatigue. Grappling with system crippling allergies that keep me locked inside on the most beautiful of days, and knowing that because of all of these illnesses that I can no longer work and contribute to supporting my family causing depression and anxiety. Knowing that if a dear friend of mine with most of the same illness as me (only worse) is having a hard time getting disability so my chances are very slim... hating that I once was a nurse but can no longer do the job I loved even if I really wanted to and that this was NOT how I planned the last half of my life going...
In mere moments I was knocked down and belittled, angry and confused as to why this person that I haven't seen in almost 6 months would want to verbally snipe me... if only she knew, CARED to retain or bothered to read my status updates, (though I guess honestly despite all this I try not complain on Facebook much because who wants to read that?).
I have been working in some capacity since I was 10 (family business, paper routes, ice cream stands, groceries stores all before I was 18), I have paid my dues as a productive member of society until 14 years ago when I became a stay at home mom. I don't deserve the implications that I sit on my ass all day eating fritos and watching soap operas.
I wanted to respond in kind, I wanted to hurt her back but as unhappy as I felt at that moment and have been feeling for over a year I realized she was probably so much more unhappy than me for wanting to make me feel less than for staying home with my kids at first by choice... and then later out of necessity for health reasons.
I did not glean an ounce of joy from realizing that she was more than likely jealous of the lifestyle she THOUGHT I was living. It didn't make me feel superior that she was most likely very unhappy.
I don't need to match someone else's guidelines or validate my choices... and I certainly do not matter less because I do not or can not hold a job outside of the home. Despite all my unhappiness and longings I still would have left a very lucrative job as a licensed practical nurse in California 14 years ago to move back to John's hometown in Iowa to stay at home to raise Anna myself. I matter, I have and will continue to make a difference if only for my family.
In those moments that probably only took up 30 seconds I replied with a slight smile, in a soft voice, "Yeah, who knows." I let it go.
Long story short (TL;DR) , not every circumstance is an opportunity to level the playing field. Sometimes we need to show a little kindness and walk in someone else's shoes. And sometimes the kindest thing we can do is keep our mouths shut. I really wish for a time when women lift and support one another instead of "sweeping the legs" out from under them Karate Kid style, for very personal choices and very valid reasons that are diminished to presumptions. I hope we can be kinder to each other as humans as a whole because we really never know what is going on behind closed doors and closed hearts.
Showing posts with label dealing with ISSUES head on. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dealing with ISSUES head on. Show all posts
Saturday, May 02, 2015
Thursday, April 11, 2013
It's been a year
One year ago today I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, and it's been one roller coaster of a year for sure. It's been a long, dark and scary back alley of a year in some respects; an alley that I thought I was destined to walk alone, desperately looking over my shoulder as I scrambled to find an exit or some safe haven from the horrible unknown that skittered in the dark closely behind me.
Then around a week later my best friend in the whole world was diagnosed, and in the most odd/bizarre/tragic/morbid/comical way... suddenly I was not alone. We traveled together, huddled in the dark while taking turns shining a flashlight for each other; shedding light on pitfalls and outright stumbling blocks in our path.
We have laughed and cried together out of grief and terror, we have fallen silent and morose. We have joked about the possibilities of the illness, and have related to each other in ways that even our loved ones fail to comprehend. Monique and I both have a better understanding of what we are dealing with, and we have shared a wealth of knowledge with each other.
In these ways, my life has somehow become richer. Through common ground and despair, we have connected on a level I never thought was possible. We had discovered mere months before being diagnosed that we were best friends, already a friendship deeper than ANY friendship I have ever had outside of my marriage. So deep in fact that she asked that I be the godmother to her unborn daughter. :) We have so many similarities, so many odd things in common that it's mind boggling... then to have this happen?
The most mind blowing thing from all of this is that we have not met in person yet. In just 14 days I get to meet my other soul mate, my sister from another mister... my life doppelganger.
I am so thankful and utterly grateful to have her in my life. We have gotten each other through so many rough spots in the last 12 months, and have created a relationship bound (and gagged) in love and laughter since July 2011.
Simply put, I could not have gotten through this last year without her*.
I cannot wait to see where this road goes next, Monique "Bella Boo"!
I'm positive. *wink*
*Of course it goes without saying that I could not have gotten through this year without my loving and supportive husband, who is the yin to my yang. Love you MISU!
Then around a week later my best friend in the whole world was diagnosed, and in the most odd/bizarre/tragic/morbid/comical way... suddenly I was not alone. We traveled together, huddled in the dark while taking turns shining a flashlight for each other; shedding light on pitfalls and outright stumbling blocks in our path.
We have laughed and cried together out of grief and terror, we have fallen silent and morose. We have joked about the possibilities of the illness, and have related to each other in ways that even our loved ones fail to comprehend. Monique and I both have a better understanding of what we are dealing with, and we have shared a wealth of knowledge with each other.
In these ways, my life has somehow become richer. Through common ground and despair, we have connected on a level I never thought was possible. We had discovered mere months before being diagnosed that we were best friends, already a friendship deeper than ANY friendship I have ever had outside of my marriage. So deep in fact that she asked that I be the godmother to her unborn daughter. :) We have so many similarities, so many odd things in common that it's mind boggling... then to have this happen?
The most mind blowing thing from all of this is that we have not met in person yet. In just 14 days I get to meet my other soul mate, my sister from another mister... my life doppelganger.
I am so thankful and utterly grateful to have her in my life. We have gotten each other through so many rough spots in the last 12 months, and have created a relationship bound (and gagged) in love and laughter since July 2011.
Simply put, I could not have gotten through this last year without her*.
I cannot wait to see where this road goes next, Monique "Bella Boo"!
I'm positive. *wink*
*Of course it goes without saying that I could not have gotten through this year without my loving and supportive husband, who is the yin to my yang. Love you MISU!
Thursday, January 03, 2013
Well, it looks like it's that time of year again!
It has been brought to my attention that I am seriously over due for a blog update, by one of the people I care about most in this world- my best friend Monique. She is right, so here I am at 7 am, at task.
This last 12 months has been something else, a lot of good and a lot of "Seriously???"
In the last year I lost a relationship (said good bye to an odd and nearly one sided friendship), became best friends with one of the most amazing people on the planet, saw my fledgling business alternately struggle and soar- oddly within weeks of each other, ignited a spark in troubled family relationships and watched as the spark went out ... yet again. I was featured in a news paper article, on the front page of my local newspaper mid December 2012 for being a local artisan who sells globally, like on Etsy. And of course I was diagnosed with a syndrome that will forever affect the quality of my life last April, fibromyalgia.
As always, like for most people, the coming of the new year brings a mixture of joy and dread. The possibility, the dream of starting anew tainted with an obscene amount of self flagellation, self-absorbed pondering, regret and eventually desperate resolutions.
Over the last week and a half I have emotionally flogged myself for not being what others want me to be, for failing to meet their expectations, for not fitting the mold they envision for me. I have wondered about my short comings, what I could have possibly done to have been tossed aside yet again, what I could do to make them want me a part of their lives again.
I told my husband last night that I do not want to be like the person previously mentioned who once had been my friend. I ended that relationship because it was no longer a giving/receiving relationship, I feel it turned into me mostly giving.
Since ending it- which ended in this person refusing to see that it was over, and with her contacting me on every mode of communication on the internet ( Twitter, Youtube, mine, my husband and daughter, and my other friends Facebook accounts, Etsy, all of my email accounts, my husbands email, texts to my phone and my husband's cell), this person has pretty much cyber stalked me. I clearly told her over each mode of communication that I did not want a relationship with her anymore, and yet she persisted, to the point of me telling her I would call the police if she did not stop harassing me.
To date, over the last 11 months I still have received 3 or more messages/emails above and beyond about 50 communications already mentioned via messages, emails and texts. Which boggles my mind. Why would a person continue to pursue a relationship where she was so clearly not wanted anymore?
Last night I realized I was that person. I have people in my life who would rather be done with me. I know by their actions, their behavior towards me, their lack of wanting to communicate with me... and some of these people are my family.
Over the last week and a half I have beat myself up for not being who they want me to be. Wondered what I could change to make them want me back in their lives. I felt as though they were trying to fit me into a vessel of their choosing, in a shape they desired, and I desperately tried to squeeze myself into that vessel.
Last night this made perfect sense to me: I am a vessel in my own right. Yes I am human, and my vessel is flaked and cracked, scratched and stained... but what some people would find distressed and damaged other people have found "antiqued" and charming, maybe even shabby chic *smile*.
Why would I continue to waste my time and energy on being someone and something I am not? Why try to squeeze myself into their mold of who they think I should be, then be disappointed along with them that I don't fit in that shiny new vessel they want for me?
Fighting back tears momentarily while talking with my husband in the wee hours, in the comfort of darkness and our bed, all of this dawned on me.
For this new year I choose to stop wasting time on trying to be the person other people want me to be. I have decided to stop of wasting energy metaphorically trying to fit my plus sized body into skinny jeans to please other people. Instead of trying to be a better, different person I am going to take that energy and focus on being a better me.
I will repair this vessel. I will fill in the cracks, sand it, maybe put on a new lacquer that enhances the beauty of who I am, instead of chiseling away at myself or painting over everything and losing who I am. I can be a better me: a better wife, friend and mother.
So my reader, this is my wish for you as well for this new year. My wish for you and I is that instead of beating ourselves up with resolutions, hating bad habits and shortcomings we feel about ourselves or imagine what other people see in us...
My wish for us is a year of self acceptance and love, along with a little sanding and buffing.
Be flawed. Embrace your patina, chips and cracks because after all they are what make you uniquely you.
Peace, love and laquer to you,
Mary
This last 12 months has been something else, a lot of good and a lot of "Seriously???"
In the last year I lost a relationship (said good bye to an odd and nearly one sided friendship), became best friends with one of the most amazing people on the planet, saw my fledgling business alternately struggle and soar- oddly within weeks of each other, ignited a spark in troubled family relationships and watched as the spark went out ... yet again. I was featured in a news paper article, on the front page of my local newspaper mid December 2012 for being a local artisan who sells globally, like on Etsy. And of course I was diagnosed with a syndrome that will forever affect the quality of my life last April, fibromyalgia.
As always, like for most people, the coming of the new year brings a mixture of joy and dread. The possibility, the dream of starting anew tainted with an obscene amount of self flagellation, self-absorbed pondering, regret and eventually desperate resolutions.
Over the last week and a half I have emotionally flogged myself for not being what others want me to be, for failing to meet their expectations, for not fitting the mold they envision for me. I have wondered about my short comings, what I could have possibly done to have been tossed aside yet again, what I could do to make them want me a part of their lives again.
I told my husband last night that I do not want to be like the person previously mentioned who once had been my friend. I ended that relationship because it was no longer a giving/receiving relationship, I feel it turned into me mostly giving.
Since ending it- which ended in this person refusing to see that it was over, and with her contacting me on every mode of communication on the internet ( Twitter, Youtube, mine, my husband and daughter, and my other friends Facebook accounts, Etsy, all of my email accounts, my husbands email, texts to my phone and my husband's cell), this person has pretty much cyber stalked me. I clearly told her over each mode of communication that I did not want a relationship with her anymore, and yet she persisted, to the point of me telling her I would call the police if she did not stop harassing me.
To date, over the last 11 months I still have received 3 or more messages/emails above and beyond about 50 communications already mentioned via messages, emails and texts. Which boggles my mind. Why would a person continue to pursue a relationship where she was so clearly not wanted anymore?
Last night I realized I was that person. I have people in my life who would rather be done with me. I know by their actions, their behavior towards me, their lack of wanting to communicate with me... and some of these people are my family.
Over the last week and a half I have beat myself up for not being who they want me to be. Wondered what I could change to make them want me back in their lives. I felt as though they were trying to fit me into a vessel of their choosing, in a shape they desired, and I desperately tried to squeeze myself into that vessel.
Last night this made perfect sense to me: I am a vessel in my own right. Yes I am human, and my vessel is flaked and cracked, scratched and stained... but what some people would find distressed and damaged other people have found "antiqued" and charming, maybe even shabby chic *smile*.
Why would I continue to waste my time and energy on being someone and something I am not? Why try to squeeze myself into their mold of who they think I should be, then be disappointed along with them that I don't fit in that shiny new vessel they want for me?
Fighting back tears momentarily while talking with my husband in the wee hours, in the comfort of darkness and our bed, all of this dawned on me.
For this new year I choose to stop wasting time on trying to be the person other people want me to be. I have decided to stop of wasting energy metaphorically trying to fit my plus sized body into skinny jeans to please other people. Instead of trying to be a better, different person I am going to take that energy and focus on being a better me.
I will repair this vessel. I will fill in the cracks, sand it, maybe put on a new lacquer that enhances the beauty of who I am, instead of chiseling away at myself or painting over everything and losing who I am. I can be a better me: a better wife, friend and mother.
So my reader, this is my wish for you as well for this new year. My wish for you and I is that instead of beating ourselves up with resolutions, hating bad habits and shortcomings we feel about ourselves or imagine what other people see in us...
My wish for us is a year of self acceptance and love, along with a little sanding and buffing.
Be flawed. Embrace your patina, chips and cracks because after all they are what make you uniquely you.
Peace, love and laquer to you,
Mary
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Free to be...Part One
Here I am. I just am, nothing more... nothing less. Is that it, really*?
*Hang on for a minute and take a little journey with me. I know I am going to upset a few people, the journey may get a little cloudy but I assure you there is a patch of sunshine waiting just over the ridge. Ready? Take my hand... I'm moving slower these days. I promise I wont go any faster than what the terrain calls for.
I was in the shower this morning thinking about how my life has changed since almost 2 weeks ago; peaks and valleys of mood, state of body and mind being so interconnected. I am finding things that are working a little for me and I am willing to accept that. I am open to these brief windows of being of less pain but not painless. I gave up on that notion a long time ago.
My mind wandered to that phrase[s] that has bothered me so much in my life.
"All things happen for a reason."
"There is a reason why you are going through this, it's to teach you something."
"God never gives us more than we can handle."
The one that really gets to me was stated by Oprah, "I trust that everything happens for a reason, even when we're not wise enough to see it."
I cannot believe this to be true. I was once an Oprah-phile. That statement was the beginning of the end for me. I do not, cannot believe that God intended for all the horrible things that have happened in my life. I refuse to believe that he looked through time and decided that I would be sexually abused, physically and emotionally tormented by the ones who were supposed to care for me.
The flaw in this thinking- if you dare to consider it that way- is that it takes away accountability to the perpetrators. It points the finger at a God I would not want to love, or expect love from. Why would I trust in a God like that? But ultimately there is no free will in that line of thought
Whether or not you believe in a god, or my God... this thinking is destructive. It's passive and is almost an invitation for bad things to happen. "Que sera sera".
So I guess this means that I don't believe in destiny or fate. Logically,if my choices are already predestined and predertmined then they cannot be choices. I should be an unfeeling robot, waiting for life to happen since I would then really have no choice.
But I do.
I thought about how much all those phrases bothered me, and pondered the fact that despite detesting the very core of all of those blurbs... I am learning something from this experience. But I am choosing to.
I could waste my days crying over this new obstacle, this fallen tree in my path. I could choose to collapse against it's insurmountable weight . Or I can choose to grab at one of those branches beside me and pull myself up, and look for ways around it to get back to the road I am choosing to take.
In a matter of a few minutes I had all these thoughts swirling around me.
Today, despite all that this illness entails... I am choosing to have a good day. I choose to be a compassionate human being in the face of my own adversities. I am going to choose to pay forward a heart full of gratitude, to sacrifice my own self pity in hopes that what tries to disable my body will not disable my heart and all that I have to offer.
I am choosing to be, rather than just I am.
Stay tuned for part two, it's gonna be a doozey! :D
*Hang on for a minute and take a little journey with me. I know I am going to upset a few people, the journey may get a little cloudy but I assure you there is a patch of sunshine waiting just over the ridge. Ready? Take my hand... I'm moving slower these days. I promise I wont go any faster than what the terrain calls for.
I was in the shower this morning thinking about how my life has changed since almost 2 weeks ago; peaks and valleys of mood, state of body and mind being so interconnected. I am finding things that are working a little for me and I am willing to accept that. I am open to these brief windows of being of less pain but not painless. I gave up on that notion a long time ago.
My mind wandered to that phrase[s] that has bothered me so much in my life.
"All things happen for a reason."
"There is a reason why you are going through this, it's to teach you something."
"God never gives us more than we can handle."
The one that really gets to me was stated by Oprah, "I trust that everything happens for a reason, even when we're not wise enough to see it."
I cannot believe this to be true. I was once an Oprah-phile. That statement was the beginning of the end for me. I do not, cannot believe that God intended for all the horrible things that have happened in my life. I refuse to believe that he looked through time and decided that I would be sexually abused, physically and emotionally tormented by the ones who were supposed to care for me.
The flaw in this thinking- if you dare to consider it that way- is that it takes away accountability to the perpetrators. It points the finger at a God I would not want to love, or expect love from. Why would I trust in a God like that? But ultimately there is no free will in that line of thought
Whether or not you believe in a god, or my God... this thinking is destructive. It's passive and is almost an invitation for bad things to happen. "Que sera sera".
So I guess this means that I don't believe in destiny or fate. Logically,if my choices are already predestined and predertmined then they cannot be choices. I should be an unfeeling robot, waiting for life to happen since I would then really have no choice.
But I do.
I thought about how much all those phrases bothered me, and pondered the fact that despite detesting the very core of all of those blurbs... I am learning something from this experience. But I am choosing to.
I could waste my days crying over this new obstacle, this fallen tree in my path. I could choose to collapse against it's insurmountable weight . Or I can choose to grab at one of those branches beside me and pull myself up, and look for ways around it to get back to the road I am choosing to take.
In a matter of a few minutes I had all these thoughts swirling around me.
Today, despite all that this illness entails... I am choosing to have a good day. I choose to be a compassionate human being in the face of my own adversities. I am going to choose to pay forward a heart full of gratitude, to sacrifice my own self pity in hopes that what tries to disable my body will not disable my heart and all that I have to offer.
I am choosing to be, rather than just I am.
Stay tuned for part two, it's gonna be a doozey! :D
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Letting in the light
I decided to wash the dishes and I looked out my kitchen window to see helicopter seeds floating down from the gray sky. Despite the dreariness of the day that brought me momentary joy and smile to my tired face.
My eyes moved to the old tree in our backyard and my moment of joy settled like those seeds drifting across my yard. Dry and blackened in spots, a husk of tree hulks over my house and I am scared that we are one storm away from the upper level being destroyed, our children hurt. Some thirty feet it stands leafless and nearly lifeless, it's bark having fallen off in places. I am truly saddened to see what has become of our beloved shade tree.
I wistfully think about my kids as little ones, this house being the only home they have ever known... tripping over the damned roots of that tree. Despite the bumps and bruises and the momentary tears we have all enjoyed the shade, the sweet rustling of it's tender leaves on warming spring days, and eventually the solace it gave us from the exhausting heat of humid Iowa summers. It was almost as if it knew it had to hang on to get my girls through the early years, providing a haven from light rain and brief rain showers, it's branches hanging over part of their swing set and the rain bouncing from one leaf to another but never really hitting them.
Our tree will be cut down within the next week, and Jacob will never know all of those little things my daughters experienced as little ones. All those things we tend to take for granted that, the seemingly minute details that will one day make their childhood stories somehow more real and tangible. Fond memories from tiny scars...Sweetness for the most bitter of days.
We have known for several years our tree would be cut down and I have wondered how we will ever do without it's shade. Sections of the tree died over the years and we ignored how ugly those branches were, we chose to enjoy what it had left to give us.
I think about how I will miss those approving whispers that graced my ears as I closed my eyes for a moment, my nose raised to catch the green scents that swirled around me. I will miss almost hearing "This... this... this...", the wind tangling and untangling the leaves to cry out in unison as if warning me that I should appreciate this moment. Here, Now; whispers that were muffled by screeches and giggly laughter, the creaking of the swing set and endless requests for food and drink.
But cutting away this dead tree will allow your windows to let in much more light, cheering you despite the summer heat - I think, the repetition of washing dishes almost soothing me. It's wood will warm you in the winter, crackling in the glow of your fireplace... anointing your aching bones. Pretty things will now grow in the places where shadows once were. All things fade, allowing for new life in it's place.
There is so much to be taken from this moment. It speaks to spirituality, to providing a safe haven for my children, life and death and the seeming finality. It spoke to me deeply about my body feeling as if it were failing me, about being so strong yet so fragile.
I'm choosing to ignore the gnarled-ness that my joints feel, the blackened spots on my heart and soul. I still have plenty of shade to give, solace to offer. I'm going to continue to produce gentle whispers of approval, soft reminders to my children to appreciate This. Here. Now... Only I will tuck my roots in as much as possible, I will not trip them up or alter their course from shade to light.
This...
Here...
Now...
My eyes moved to the old tree in our backyard and my moment of joy settled like those seeds drifting across my yard. Dry and blackened in spots, a husk of tree hulks over my house and I am scared that we are one storm away from the upper level being destroyed, our children hurt. Some thirty feet it stands leafless and nearly lifeless, it's bark having fallen off in places. I am truly saddened to see what has become of our beloved shade tree.
I wistfully think about my kids as little ones, this house being the only home they have ever known... tripping over the damned roots of that tree. Despite the bumps and bruises and the momentary tears we have all enjoyed the shade, the sweet rustling of it's tender leaves on warming spring days, and eventually the solace it gave us from the exhausting heat of humid Iowa summers. It was almost as if it knew it had to hang on to get my girls through the early years, providing a haven from light rain and brief rain showers, it's branches hanging over part of their swing set and the rain bouncing from one leaf to another but never really hitting them.
Our tree will be cut down within the next week, and Jacob will never know all of those little things my daughters experienced as little ones. All those things we tend to take for granted that, the seemingly minute details that will one day make their childhood stories somehow more real and tangible. Fond memories from tiny scars...Sweetness for the most bitter of days.
We have known for several years our tree would be cut down and I have wondered how we will ever do without it's shade. Sections of the tree died over the years and we ignored how ugly those branches were, we chose to enjoy what it had left to give us.
I think about how I will miss those approving whispers that graced my ears as I closed my eyes for a moment, my nose raised to catch the green scents that swirled around me. I will miss almost hearing "This... this... this...", the wind tangling and untangling the leaves to cry out in unison as if warning me that I should appreciate this moment. Here, Now; whispers that were muffled by screeches and giggly laughter, the creaking of the swing set and endless requests for food and drink.
But cutting away this dead tree will allow your windows to let in much more light, cheering you despite the summer heat - I think, the repetition of washing dishes almost soothing me. It's wood will warm you in the winter, crackling in the glow of your fireplace... anointing your aching bones. Pretty things will now grow in the places where shadows once were. All things fade, allowing for new life in it's place.
There is so much to be taken from this moment. It speaks to spirituality, to providing a safe haven for my children, life and death and the seeming finality. It spoke to me deeply about my body feeling as if it were failing me, about being so strong yet so fragile.
I'm choosing to ignore the gnarled-ness that my joints feel, the blackened spots on my heart and soul. I still have plenty of shade to give, solace to offer. I'm going to continue to produce gentle whispers of approval, soft reminders to my children to appreciate This. Here. Now... Only I will tuck my roots in as much as possible, I will not trip them up or alter their course from shade to light.
This...
Here...
Now...
Sunday, November 30, 2008
I put the "F U" in fun
Black Friday and holiday shopping fun, yes? This year not so much. What's with the killing of the people?The stampeding and gunfire? Are you kidding me?
Let me just say that though I have on occasion imagined myself bludgeoning someone while out rubbing elbows with people that I like to refer to as "rude, morally-bankrupt animals", I would never.... NEVER resort to violence outside of daydreaming when faced with not getting something that I want.
Is this what we have come to?
How does it make sense that a season, first and foremost named as the season of GIVING, should cause such hostility and homicidal tendencies? Oh, right. Christmas is no longer Merry Christmas... but XMAS, Happy Holidays, etc, etc, etc. 'Tis the season of give me more, because if you don't , you're a bad parent/child/sibling/grandchild and you don't really love me-me-me-me-me.
I will admit that I have been guilty of commercialism, of going over board because I want my kids to have all the things that I didn't, and I have come to realize that by doing so I have created mini monsters who play with new toys for about a week then grow bored of them. Lesson learned. We have scaled waaaaay back on gift giving for any holiday, and we donate the things no longer played with, the ones that are collecting dust.
It has been a painful process, realizing all that has been compromised... my children's egos, my wallet, and the core of our souls. No thing can make my kids love me, and no trinket can show them how much I love them. That is up to me, and up to them. I thank God that my husband and I have come to this realization before it was too late.
Oh, I'm sure we might get the "I'm looking for more presents underneath the ripped and tattered remains of what probably amounts to 3 trees" , and even a small "is that it?" look from at least one of my ankle biters... but we'll get there. Baby steps, people. ;)
But honestly? I'm not sure I want to buy into a holiday that has been tainted with sacrificial blood. Maybe I will opt out next year. Maybe the 25th of each month will be cause for celebration, and maybe, just maybe we can celebrate the true meaning of Christmas every day of every single year without killing someone.
That would be swell.
OK, I'm jumping off of my soapbox now, and I'll leave you with this thought (OK, I'm only standing with one foot on the soap box right now):
This being my first year of retail hell ( I work at the Tar-jay), I would emplore all of the lovely shoppers out there to at least try to put something back in its original spot. If you don't want it? Ya know what? Take it to the register anyway and say these eleven magical words.
"I don't want this, can you put this back for me?"
Those eleven mystical and magical words would reduce hundreds of thousands of man hours of hunting what we like to call reshops from the candy aisle and eventually returning it to the lingerie section.
What does that mean for you you might ask? Lower cost, better savings.
And me, not mentally flipping you the bird. Just a thought.
Hugs and kisses,
~mert
Let me just say that though I have on occasion imagined myself bludgeoning someone while out rubbing elbows with people that I like to refer to as "rude, morally-bankrupt animals", I would never.... NEVER resort to violence outside of daydreaming when faced with not getting something that I want.
Is this what we have come to?
How does it make sense that a season, first and foremost named as the season of GIVING, should cause such hostility and homicidal tendencies? Oh, right. Christmas is no longer Merry Christmas... but XMAS, Happy Holidays, etc, etc, etc. 'Tis the season of give me more, because if you don't , you're a bad parent/child/sibling/grandchild and you don't really love me-me-me-me-me.
I will admit that I have been guilty of commercialism, of going over board because I want my kids to have all the things that I didn't, and I have come to realize that by doing so I have created mini monsters who play with new toys for about a week then grow bored of them. Lesson learned. We have scaled waaaaay back on gift giving for any holiday, and we donate the things no longer played with, the ones that are collecting dust.
It has been a painful process, realizing all that has been compromised... my children's egos, my wallet, and the core of our souls. No thing can make my kids love me, and no trinket can show them how much I love them. That is up to me, and up to them. I thank God that my husband and I have come to this realization before it was too late.
Oh, I'm sure we might get the "I'm looking for more presents underneath the ripped and tattered remains of what probably amounts to 3 trees" , and even a small "is that it?" look from at least one of my ankle biters... but we'll get there. Baby steps, people. ;)
But honestly? I'm not sure I want to buy into a holiday that has been tainted with sacrificial blood. Maybe I will opt out next year. Maybe the 25th of each month will be cause for celebration, and maybe, just maybe we can celebrate the true meaning of Christmas every day of every single year without killing someone.
That would be swell.
OK, I'm jumping off of my soapbox now, and I'll leave you with this thought (OK, I'm only standing with one foot on the soap box right now):
This being my first year of retail hell ( I work at the Tar-jay), I would emplore all of the lovely shoppers out there to at least try to put something back in its original spot. If you don't want it? Ya know what? Take it to the register anyway and say these eleven magical words.
"I don't want this, can you put this back for me?"
Those eleven mystical and magical words would reduce hundreds of thousands of man hours of hunting what we like to call reshops from the candy aisle and eventually returning it to the lingerie section.
What does that mean for you you might ask? Lower cost, better savings.
And me, not mentally flipping you the bird. Just a thought.
Hugs and kisses,
~mert
Thursday, November 13, 2008
That's like bringing a knife to a gun fight
Why is it that family is like the sharpest knife, cutting the deepest wounds?
Tommorrow I am supposed to go to the MIL's Lia Sophia party.... BUT, last night we saw her at Target walking around with her boyfriends granddaughter, bent over talking all cozy with her. We managed to get in and get out with what we needed without even bumping into her. The kids were crushed to see their Nana- who doesn't make time to see them except a few MINUTES every 2 weeks or so- covorting with another little girl. Emma said, "Momma, it makes me sad seeing Nana with that girl... it's awful." John and I were so upset that our kids felt so hurt.
I wonder though, had I not made such a big deal out of it, what would the girls have said about it? I was just so mad and hurt on their behalf, I wanted to lay in to her right there in Target! Anna was supposed to walk with John to the electronic department but once I saw her walking with Steve's granddaughter I said nope, stay with me. Later I explained that I didn't want her to have to face her grandma with those raw emotions... Anna doesn't deserve to see her with another kid and have to try to swallow the uncomfortable-ness and tension, the hurt and anger.
We have told the MIL that we don't want the girls going out with her and Steve alone without us, or being over at her apartment with the possibility of them being alone with him. I don't know him and I refuse to risk anything, I could never live with myself. The problem is that when they were dating again (before he moved in with the MIL) almost a year ago, Anna spent the night. The MIL never told us that he might be coming over, even though she knows how I am about my girls being around strange men. After Anna came home from the sleep over I found out that the MIL had left Anna alone with her BF while she took a shower, etc. SO, I broached the subject with the MIL by saying that Anna should never be left alone with him, just to see what she would say. She said,"No, of course not."
She basically lied to me by not telling me that it had already happened, so right then and there I decided to put a stop to sleep overs since she has proven time and time again that she makes bad choices, especially when it comes to my kids. I also explained that the kids would not be over at her apartment- especially after he moved in- unless we were there.
More recently, about 2 1/2 months ago, she asked if she could take the girls shopping and reluctantly we said yes. She shows up to pick them up with her BF. I was at work so I had no idea, but John let them go, which I was kind of pissed about. She ambushed us with this, purposely because if she shows up with him, what are we supposed to say right?
She does this kind of thing all the time. I or John will lay down the law and later she claims she doesn't remember having that conversation. It makes me so mad! It reminds me of my mother... "I'm certified nuts so I can act like an idiot and not even try because I can get away with doing these things (and stop taking my medication) and not have to be accountable." ONLY her (the MIL) thing is, "You never said that, we never talked about this-OR- I don't remember you saying that." GRRR.
Anyway, Anna was supposed to go with me to the party, but now neither of us want to go and it's tomorrow. John said he's going to talk to her about it and let her know how hurt the girls were, but in the mean time I have to figure out what to say our reason is for not coming without lying about it, so as to not make a bad example for my kids.
I just can't tell you how hard it is to hear your 3 1/2 yr old say how "awful" it feels to be crushed by your own grandma. And how hard it is to hear your 7 yr old talk about how hurt and angry she is. I just want to "blow her away" verbally and be done with her sometimes. I want to knock that "knife" out of her hands forever, but John doesn't think that that is the right answer. I know it has mostly to do with the kids not having any grandparents, and Emma missing out (but isn't she already missing out?), and how uncomfortable things will be at family gatherings (like the last time we didn't talk to the MIL for 4-5 months after she threw a bucket of water in Anna's face)... I just don't know how to fix this.
How do you fix something with a person who believes she is always right , and never does anything wrong? This is exactly the dilemma I had with the egg donor, and exactly why I estranged myself from her. The MIL is so like my mother (the egg donor) sometimes, and it makes me angry that after divorcing myself from the E.D. that I still have to put up with pretty much the same.... STUFF.
Now I have to deal with not making a bad example for my kids by lying to get out of an uncomfortable situation.
And I am struggling with forgiveness as a Christian... But that's another load of dirty laundry.
Tommorrow I am supposed to go to the MIL's Lia Sophia party.... BUT, last night we saw her at Target walking around with her boyfriends granddaughter, bent over talking all cozy with her. We managed to get in and get out with what we needed without even bumping into her. The kids were crushed to see their Nana- who doesn't make time to see them except a few MINUTES every 2 weeks or so- covorting with another little girl. Emma said, "Momma, it makes me sad seeing Nana with that girl... it's awful." John and I were so upset that our kids felt so hurt.
I wonder though, had I not made such a big deal out of it, what would the girls have said about it? I was just so mad and hurt on their behalf, I wanted to lay in to her right there in Target! Anna was supposed to walk with John to the electronic department but once I saw her walking with Steve's granddaughter I said nope, stay with me. Later I explained that I didn't want her to have to face her grandma with those raw emotions... Anna doesn't deserve to see her with another kid and have to try to swallow the uncomfortable-ness and tension, the hurt and anger.
We have told the MIL that we don't want the girls going out with her and Steve alone without us, or being over at her apartment with the possibility of them being alone with him. I don't know him and I refuse to risk anything, I could never live with myself. The problem is that when they were dating again (before he moved in with the MIL) almost a year ago, Anna spent the night. The MIL never told us that he might be coming over, even though she knows how I am about my girls being around strange men. After Anna came home from the sleep over I found out that the MIL had left Anna alone with her BF while she took a shower, etc. SO, I broached the subject with the MIL by saying that Anna should never be left alone with him, just to see what she would say. She said,"No, of course not."
She basically lied to me by not telling me that it had already happened, so right then and there I decided to put a stop to sleep overs since she has proven time and time again that she makes bad choices, especially when it comes to my kids. I also explained that the kids would not be over at her apartment- especially after he moved in- unless we were there.
More recently, about 2 1/2 months ago, she asked if she could take the girls shopping and reluctantly we said yes. She shows up to pick them up with her BF. I was at work so I had no idea, but John let them go, which I was kind of pissed about. She ambushed us with this, purposely because if she shows up with him, what are we supposed to say right?
She does this kind of thing all the time. I or John will lay down the law and later she claims she doesn't remember having that conversation. It makes me so mad! It reminds me of my mother... "I'm certified nuts so I can act like an idiot and not even try because I can get away with doing these things (and stop taking my medication) and not have to be accountable." ONLY her (the MIL) thing is, "You never said that, we never talked about this-OR- I don't remember you saying that." GRRR.
Anyway, Anna was supposed to go with me to the party, but now neither of us want to go and it's tomorrow. John said he's going to talk to her about it and let her know how hurt the girls were, but in the mean time I have to figure out what to say our reason is for not coming without lying about it, so as to not make a bad example for my kids.
I just can't tell you how hard it is to hear your 3 1/2 yr old say how "awful" it feels to be crushed by your own grandma. And how hard it is to hear your 7 yr old talk about how hurt and angry she is. I just want to "blow her away" verbally and be done with her sometimes. I want to knock that "knife" out of her hands forever, but John doesn't think that that is the right answer. I know it has mostly to do with the kids not having any grandparents, and Emma missing out (but isn't she already missing out?), and how uncomfortable things will be at family gatherings (like the last time we didn't talk to the MIL for 4-5 months after she threw a bucket of water in Anna's face)... I just don't know how to fix this.
How do you fix something with a person who believes she is always right , and never does anything wrong? This is exactly the dilemma I had with the egg donor, and exactly why I estranged myself from her. The MIL is so like my mother (the egg donor) sometimes, and it makes me angry that after divorcing myself from the E.D. that I still have to put up with pretty much the same.... STUFF.
Now I have to deal with not making a bad example for my kids by lying to get out of an uncomfortable situation.
And I am struggling with forgiveness as a Christian... But that's another load of dirty laundry.
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