I made a new friend. She was a new face at the bus stop and she seemed older, cooler than the rest of us. While we were all crossing our books to hide chests we weren't quite comfortable with yet, she knew early to wear clothes to show off those particular assets. When boys came up to talk to us and we would giggle nervously, not sure what to say, she'd flash a smile so bright it competed with the sun and there wasn't an awkward moment to be witnessed. Oh, how I wanted to be like her....
I'm sure around this time, boys were still terrified of girls their age...I mean I've witnessed firsthand what a 13 year old boy acts like and it's certainly not the whole fawning over the opposite sex that I remember from my youth.
I had so many marks against me. I was never tiny...but not fat...just not tiny like my friends. And while I was a bit aware of my aura every time I came to school, I was certain the gallons of perfume on my clothing masked the stench of cigarette smoke being emitted from my body. Sleepovers were a nightmare. My freshly cleaned pillow, which smelled wonderful and flowery in MY house, smelled like a rotten, smoldering pile of ash in the clean, smoke-free homes of my friends. I could have been Miss America, crown and all, but that smell really was awful and I am so thankful I didn't realize how bad it was when I was growing up. It was awful. (As a side note I missed a lot of school because of upper respiratory infections. The doctor would say, in front of me, "J, you need to stop smoking, if not altogether, than at least go outside. These infections are a direct result of the exposure these kids have..." and she'd sort of hmph, get the magical paper of healing, get out to the car....and light up. Right there....)
In hindsight, I realize the boys (yes, more than one) of my dreams weren't even ready to acknowledge girls period, but my new friend had a totally different perspective. The key, she assured me....was in my virginal status. Because I had never had sex (come on, I was TWELVE already...way too old for such nonsense) boys would NOT like me. And until I took care of this pesky little problem, I could forget the whole boyfriend thing. Boys do NOT like virgins. Don't have time for them. I thought this was crazy, of course, but boy after boy...rejected me and went for her. She was chubby, didn't dress well, was very poor and yet...all the boys liked HER. What the heck? I conceded eventually she must be right. She HAD to be right. She was accomplishing what I wanted and to this day if someone manages to accomplish something I want to accomplish, I will still look to see what they are doing that I'm not...
I am not sure how the rest happened. I had my own phone number and one day this boy called, meaning to call someone else. Noticed it was a girl on the other end...asked me some questioned. I giggled and hung up. I told my friends about it and when they were over, he called again. Pretty Girl talked to him and found out he lived very, very close to our house. She starts talking about "meeting" and I am aghast. The only boys I have any exposure to are in school...that's it. She convinces me and my other friend to have a sleepover...and to invite these boys to hang out in my bedroom via the window.....
Now before y'all start thinking about what a trouble-maker I was, I can assure you I was the typical "good kid" It drove my trouble-making sister insane. Good grades, good attitude, good everything. I wasn't "that girl" (and I later realize, there isn't a THAT girl...she's ME...)
The night comes and I do NOT want to do this. I want to tell my mom, but my mom doesn't listen and freaks out about everything and I can't chance losing this friend. My friends know how mean my mom is and they are my solace. I started seeking approval from peers at a very young age....and this time the stakes were high. I adored this girl. I truly believed she cared about me. I remember she told me to go take a bath and she and my other friend would clean my bedroom and pick out a cute outfit for me. All the while, I am screaming inside. I want to just stay in my bathroom...or my living room.....But I take my bath and go back into my room where Pretty Girl is waiting with my outfit and a pep talk. It's not big deal she says....just some boys coming over to hang out and if I'm lucky....I won't have this pesky virgin thing hanging over my head anymore.
I. Was. Twelve. Do you know how YOUNG that is??? How LITTLE??? How innocent...???
The boys came. Three of them. Three boys, three girls. Pretty Girl turns the lights down low and immediately grabs one of the boys onto my bed and starts kissing him. Like MOVIE kissing him...I look over to see my other friend...and she's done the same thing....I freak out and run to my closet, purposed to stay there until it's all over. The third boy...well where else could he go? He followed me in. I can't even remember if I was willing or said no..but at 12...I shouldn't have had to make that decision. I should have said NO boys in my room, NO to my friend, but I didn't. Everything happened so fast. Horrible. HORRIBLE....innocence lost on the floor of my bedroom closest.
The next day we "walked to the store..." but really went to the boys house. Nothing happened. But we did another sleepover thing and my friend invited them back over, this time, against my will. I stayed by the door and did my math homework. No low lights, no making out...I was in a bad place. My mother overheard a male voice and knocked on my door. I tried to convince her it was just the radio....She barges in...goes right to my closet where the boys are hiding and orders them out of her "effing house..."
Oh the rampage. THE RAMPAGE that followed. Screaming, throwing things, tearing my room apart, reading in my diary, calling me a slut and a tramp and a whore, demanding I tell her what happened and if I didn't she'd take me to her female doctor and "Do you know what they'll do to you there? You won't like it...she'll tell me if you're slutting around...."
I needed to tell her. I wanted to tell her. I was HURT. Something had been taken from me and my GOD I needed to tell someone. It was all wrong. I needed a Mom. I needed her years and years before...and I needed her to explain to me that this friend wasn't a friend at all...that boys that want this from a girl they don't even know are BAD BAD BAD...I needed to be protected and yes, sheltered because I wasn't ready for this...
It ended up that the friend in question was in an abusive home, being sexually abused by her step-father and I found out recently that her little brother forced sexual acts on someone else my mother could have protected...where was SHE? How did she not know? I'm super paranoid about who my children interact with and if I have a bad feeling ,I go with it. I want to know who they are with, what the family is like, and honestly, they don't do a whole lot of sleeping over or otherwise with other families, unless I KNOW it's okay. And I do mean KNOW, as in "What are your feelings about molestation???" And even when I've allowed a sleepover, if my feeling changes, if ANYTHING presents itself that makes me uncomfortable, I pull the plug. No apologies, no explanation.
One of my mother's proudest "moments" and one she refers to often, as if to convince herself that she was a "good mom" is how I "came to her" when I had my first serious boyfriend and told her we were thinking about becoming intimate. She still doesn't know that we already were intimate and the only reason I told her is because my older brother had been sleeping with my friend (10 years younger) and when she broke it off, he essentially said I should stop being her friend or he'd tell my mom about my boyfriend and me. I figured telling her myself was the better option....
And that he was far from my first....
Or my last....
I want better for my children.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
When I Was 18.....
A lot of things changed for me.
I broke up with boyfriend #1 (serious boyfriend #1) and had my second romance with a man too old for me with way too much going on. That's when I met Jamie and we had our whirlwind romance.
When we met, I was still living at home, working during the night, attending school during the day. By this this time I was old hat at burning the candle at both ends. For nearly two years I was working 9-5 in an office and then 12-6 am doing a paper route. Not much time to do much but work, sleep, eat and look forward to the weekends when I only worked nights.
I was in my first week of massage school when IT happened....I moved out of my mother's house in secret. You see, I always knew I'd never get out of there. There was something very wrong happening in that house. My mother never wanted anyone to leave and if they did, it wasn't this happy "go fly little bird" moment. It was always this huge fight, blow-up, screaming and slamming, things left behind for my mother to go through for "clues" as to how much more she could hold over the person's head. Oh I remember this well. At this writing I've been out of the house for 16+ years and everyday since, one of my siblings has lived under that roof. My mom loves to "help" people like that. Anyhoo, I remember clearly having these big dreams to get out and make something of myself. Everytime I tried, she blocked me. I wanted to go to college. She took me (I had no car at the time) to take the entrance exam and I got in to a community college when I was 16. Then she refused to take me to sign up for classes or help in any way whatsoever. So I started working. She again, drove me, but pretty much every morning threatened she wouldn't because I had done something or the other to tick her off. One day, I simply stopped begging her to take me and walked to work. It was a LONG, long trek. My boss was pissed until she actually saw me and found out what happened. She knew my mother well. She was not a fan. So I was working and going to school and she seemed very supportive of this (which was odd because any other attempt she completely said NO...) I walk into my house, my arms LOADED with books around 4 pm. I have a ton of homework to do before I can go to sleep to be ready for work at midnight. My mother, having been home all day, was sitting at the table in her bathrobe, smoking a cigarette in our trashed kitchen and declares that I must have the kitchen cleaned right NOW, so that she could make dinner. I knew then..I wasn't going to graduate...I wasn't going to finish school. I apparently liked it too much...something, but I knew, as I explained how much homework I had and her reply...something about being a selfish bitch (I got told that a lot) I realized she simply didn't care. I remember something being said that if I couldn't handle school without complaining about chores, I should maybe quit. Oy. (Or maybe people in that house could you know, pick up after themselves instead of trashing the kitchen in my absence...there's a thought, no?)
I called Jamie, after dutifully cleaning up the kitchen while my Mom sat and smoked...I am sure after all that she just ordered pizza...a common occurrence....crying, crushed, explaining to him how I would never, ever get out of that house. No one had for any length of time and I would never be able to finish anything. She'd stop me....He told me "Okay...come live here..." What?? LIVE WITH YOU? No way. You are my BOYFRIEND. I have more class than that...He told me I worked nights...he worked nights..I went to school in the day...we'd barely see each other, but that I could stay there as long as I needed. Once he framed it like that...like a break from my mom and not a co=habitation sort of thing, I agreed. I snuck out of my bedroom window, pulled my SUV up to the window and started gingerly loading everything I owned into that vehicle. In my house, you didn't leave through the front door without a lot of drama and I wanted to avoid it. I locked my bedroom door, got all my belongings...and drove away. My mother never knew until she had to unlock my door that night to make sure I'd go to work (for her...there was ALWAYS a job available with Captain Mom and always a threat of being fired. Fun times) She came up to me in a total huff. She had been worked around and she didn't know what to think. "You could have at least said good-bye..." is what she said. "You wouldn't have let me leave and you know it.." was my reply. I was strong and sassy on the outside, weak and shaky on the inside. I half expected her to throw me down right there, but I forgot...there were people around. My mom around people was a much different version than my Mom alone. Something I would have done well to utilize more often during my childhood, but never really thought about until much later.
Well, Jamie and I ended up getting married, truth be known, so we could get housing together. The couple we shared an apartment with seemed on the verge of decline, which meant Jamie would have to move back to the barracks and I'd have to move back home. This wasn't an option at all. If I had moved back to that house, I wouldn't be allowed to see Jamie again and it would have been a nightmare. I was less scared of getting married to this guy I barely knew than going back home. Jamie knows this. It's not a secret at all ;) Just glad it worked out!
About three weeks after our rushed vows, we found out that the next phase was upon us. We were going to be parents! Yay!! I was SO sick....Oh man, I was SO sick. Doing papers, smelling the icky newsprint, making all those turns...I couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't. I gave my mom notice. She was PIIIIISSEEED, but even she had to admit this wasn't working. I was spending so much time on the side of the road throwing up I couldn't make deadline. For eight weeks, I reminded her I couldn't do this anymore. There was a lot of drama, a lot of manipulating....it was not a fun time. Finally, she found a guy who wanted to take my route. She got him set up and had me take him out with me (strange guy...sent out in your daughter's car into the rural parts of your town for hours...what the hell was she THINKING???) and I trained him. I was going to be FREE. I was SO excited. My last day was to be Sunday morning papers. My mother called me Saturday, shortly before I needed to be there for my LAST DAY (sooooo happy) to tell me I couldn't quit now. New guy's car was having trouble and so I would still be doing papers indefinitely until they could figure something out. I should have known. I was never, ever getting out of this. Jamie was like "So what? We'll leave YOUR car there, he can drive it..." Oy. My mother was furious, which I never did understand. She was livid, but I (through Jamie's encouragement) stuck to my guns and left my vehicle at my mom's for the new guy to use. The next morning, I get a very nasty voicemail "I hope you're happy. You've really F**KED me over you little B****!!!" How??? How did I do this? I gave EIGHT weeks notice, trained a guy and gave him a vehicle? What she lying about this guy? Did he never intend to take it on? Still don't know. Never did find this out.
Apparently something worked out because I got my car back. I still had a payment to make on it, so the plan was to use my last paycheck (I was paid two weeks behind by my mom, like everyone else in the world) to make my insurance payment for the month and start filling out day job applications. Then the calls started "You need to pay your insurance..." And me saying, "Uhm you have DOUBLE the amount of that payment that you still owe me. I am going to use my last paycheck to pay my insurance and save the other half back for the car payment." Well, according to my mother, since I quit my job with her (with EIGHT weeks) notice, she owed me nothing. My paycheck was HERS now. What?? Seriously?? And yep, she kept it....I went job hunting. Got a job at Target. The day I was supposed to start this job, I get another lovely Mom call "Well, I have cancelled the insurance....you better not be driving. I"ll call the cops..." She KNEW I need to be at work. She HAD the money to pay and she cancelled the insurance. The kicker was, I couldn't even get new insurance without HER. Her name was in the car (as it always is, she LOOOVES helping people get cars...guess what she does then???) And she wasn't going to do anything about this. I was stuck with this SUV, a payment and no job because I lost it because she cancelled my car insurance...
And if that wasn't enough...she called almost daily saying if I didn't pay her for the car payment and insurance, she was coming to take my car away from me. I was in absolute misery. Jamie....was pissed. Here is his new wife, stuck at home, with a car he can't afford...and no job because his mother in law is crazy. After one such 'I'm coming to take her car" voicemail, he said "Done. She wants it...she can have it. I'm sick of this shit...she's insane." I was like "NO, you cannot DO that. Not to MY mom. She'll kill me...she'll kill you..you don't do things like this. She must always have the upperhand if you want to survive." He explained it logically...she was threatening me, she had put me in a position where I couldn't support myself or do for myself and would NOT budge or help me...and that this burden had to go. This constant threat, for my own mental health, needed to be dealt with. And so, one night, he took the SUV, without insurance, down to my mother's house....his buddy followed him. They parked it outside my mom's house, put the keys and the payment book in the seat and drove away. I stayed curled up in my bed until he arrived, scared out of my mind...wondering if he'd pull it off and if he did....what the consequences would be. Didn't take too long to find out...
Lots of angry voicemails. I was called every name in the book. I was told to call her IMMEDIATELY. Then...I was DEAD TO HER!!
For my 19th birthday, Jamie came home with a toaster oven, then promptly called the telephone company and got our phone number changed....and unlisted. Did that stop her? No. She had Jamie's pager number. It was a pretty fancy thing back then to have a pager with a voicemail, but he did and my mom used it.
That's when more calls came in. Oh...that I stole all her jewelry and she was calling the cops...
And MY personal favorite....'And just so you know Jamie...that baby probably isn't even yours...you might want to call me to find out who's it is.." (And seriously y'all...that was just STUPID. I had a boyfriend before Jamie but he was not a contender for fatherhood and if that guy was, he wouldn't tell my MOM. He would have run away and left me high and dry. He wasn't a stand up type of guy...)
All of this because my mother lost total control of me. For years and years....I didn't KNOW (I do now) how completely messed up this was. I'd tell the story thinking that person listening would tell me how horrible I was to do this...but all I've ever gotten was a silent stare or maybe a "Wow, she is INSANE." One therapist told me that it wasn't often she recommended walking away from such an important relationship, but that until my mother received mental help, it was in my best interest to remove her from my life.
I spend the entire pregnancy with my first child somewhat afraid....I didn't know what would happen. I did let my sister know he was coming and while I was still being stitched up, my mother calls. Because it's all okay now. I refused to talk to her. She later told me that "hurt her feelings..." Seriously??? Wow. She ended up coming over later that week. It was awful. Uncomfortable, but I was young, a new mom and thought I needed MY mom to help guide me. I was also confident she could no longer do anything to me because we would be moving out of state. Little did I know what the next few months would bring. Another story for another day....
I tell this story often, just to recheck myself...Was this normal behavior or is my mother mentally ill? See, she hasn't gotten any better. She still pulls this shit. We had another round similar to this and yet, she's never apologized. She acknowledged this situation just recently. She tried to tell me I had "screwed her" (actually my older brother reminded her of this, he loves reminding her of how much better HE is) and I was like 'Oh yeah...how?" She said "That time you left me with that Explorer..." and I finally could say "Yeah... I left it there after you cancelled the insurance, threatened to take it back daily, said I stole your jewelry and told Jamie that Kyle wasn't his baby...." She went silent. She whispered "I had forgotten about that.." I said, loud and clear, "Well I haven't..." Her reply was "I was an idiot, a total idiot..." Ya think?
How about that apology?
Never came....
I broke up with boyfriend #1 (serious boyfriend #1) and had my second romance with a man too old for me with way too much going on. That's when I met Jamie and we had our whirlwind romance.
When we met, I was still living at home, working during the night, attending school during the day. By this this time I was old hat at burning the candle at both ends. For nearly two years I was working 9-5 in an office and then 12-6 am doing a paper route. Not much time to do much but work, sleep, eat and look forward to the weekends when I only worked nights.
I was in my first week of massage school when IT happened....I moved out of my mother's house in secret. You see, I always knew I'd never get out of there. There was something very wrong happening in that house. My mother never wanted anyone to leave and if they did, it wasn't this happy "go fly little bird" moment. It was always this huge fight, blow-up, screaming and slamming, things left behind for my mother to go through for "clues" as to how much more she could hold over the person's head. Oh I remember this well. At this writing I've been out of the house for 16+ years and everyday since, one of my siblings has lived under that roof. My mom loves to "help" people like that. Anyhoo, I remember clearly having these big dreams to get out and make something of myself. Everytime I tried, she blocked me. I wanted to go to college. She took me (I had no car at the time) to take the entrance exam and I got in to a community college when I was 16. Then she refused to take me to sign up for classes or help in any way whatsoever. So I started working. She again, drove me, but pretty much every morning threatened she wouldn't because I had done something or the other to tick her off. One day, I simply stopped begging her to take me and walked to work. It was a LONG, long trek. My boss was pissed until she actually saw me and found out what happened. She knew my mother well. She was not a fan. So I was working and going to school and she seemed very supportive of this (which was odd because any other attempt she completely said NO...) I walk into my house, my arms LOADED with books around 4 pm. I have a ton of homework to do before I can go to sleep to be ready for work at midnight. My mother, having been home all day, was sitting at the table in her bathrobe, smoking a cigarette in our trashed kitchen and declares that I must have the kitchen cleaned right NOW, so that she could make dinner. I knew then..I wasn't going to graduate...I wasn't going to finish school. I apparently liked it too much...something, but I knew, as I explained how much homework I had and her reply...something about being a selfish bitch (I got told that a lot) I realized she simply didn't care. I remember something being said that if I couldn't handle school without complaining about chores, I should maybe quit. Oy. (Or maybe people in that house could you know, pick up after themselves instead of trashing the kitchen in my absence...there's a thought, no?)
I called Jamie, after dutifully cleaning up the kitchen while my Mom sat and smoked...I am sure after all that she just ordered pizza...a common occurrence....crying, crushed, explaining to him how I would never, ever get out of that house. No one had for any length of time and I would never be able to finish anything. She'd stop me....He told me "Okay...come live here..." What?? LIVE WITH YOU? No way. You are my BOYFRIEND. I have more class than that...He told me I worked nights...he worked nights..I went to school in the day...we'd barely see each other, but that I could stay there as long as I needed. Once he framed it like that...like a break from my mom and not a co=habitation sort of thing, I agreed. I snuck out of my bedroom window, pulled my SUV up to the window and started gingerly loading everything I owned into that vehicle. In my house, you didn't leave through the front door without a lot of drama and I wanted to avoid it. I locked my bedroom door, got all my belongings...and drove away. My mother never knew until she had to unlock my door that night to make sure I'd go to work (for her...there was ALWAYS a job available with Captain Mom and always a threat of being fired. Fun times) She came up to me in a total huff. She had been worked around and she didn't know what to think. "You could have at least said good-bye..." is what she said. "You wouldn't have let me leave and you know it.." was my reply. I was strong and sassy on the outside, weak and shaky on the inside. I half expected her to throw me down right there, but I forgot...there were people around. My mom around people was a much different version than my Mom alone. Something I would have done well to utilize more often during my childhood, but never really thought about until much later.
Well, Jamie and I ended up getting married, truth be known, so we could get housing together. The couple we shared an apartment with seemed on the verge of decline, which meant Jamie would have to move back to the barracks and I'd have to move back home. This wasn't an option at all. If I had moved back to that house, I wouldn't be allowed to see Jamie again and it would have been a nightmare. I was less scared of getting married to this guy I barely knew than going back home. Jamie knows this. It's not a secret at all ;) Just glad it worked out!
About three weeks after our rushed vows, we found out that the next phase was upon us. We were going to be parents! Yay!! I was SO sick....Oh man, I was SO sick. Doing papers, smelling the icky newsprint, making all those turns...I couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't. I gave my mom notice. She was PIIIIISSEEED, but even she had to admit this wasn't working. I was spending so much time on the side of the road throwing up I couldn't make deadline. For eight weeks, I reminded her I couldn't do this anymore. There was a lot of drama, a lot of manipulating....it was not a fun time. Finally, she found a guy who wanted to take my route. She got him set up and had me take him out with me (strange guy...sent out in your daughter's car into the rural parts of your town for hours...what the hell was she THINKING???) and I trained him. I was going to be FREE. I was SO excited. My last day was to be Sunday morning papers. My mother called me Saturday, shortly before I needed to be there for my LAST DAY (sooooo happy) to tell me I couldn't quit now. New guy's car was having trouble and so I would still be doing papers indefinitely until they could figure something out. I should have known. I was never, ever getting out of this. Jamie was like "So what? We'll leave YOUR car there, he can drive it..." Oy. My mother was furious, which I never did understand. She was livid, but I (through Jamie's encouragement) stuck to my guns and left my vehicle at my mom's for the new guy to use. The next morning, I get a very nasty voicemail "I hope you're happy. You've really F**KED me over you little B****!!!" How??? How did I do this? I gave EIGHT weeks notice, trained a guy and gave him a vehicle? What she lying about this guy? Did he never intend to take it on? Still don't know. Never did find this out.
Apparently something worked out because I got my car back. I still had a payment to make on it, so the plan was to use my last paycheck (I was paid two weeks behind by my mom, like everyone else in the world) to make my insurance payment for the month and start filling out day job applications. Then the calls started "You need to pay your insurance..." And me saying, "Uhm you have DOUBLE the amount of that payment that you still owe me. I am going to use my last paycheck to pay my insurance and save the other half back for the car payment." Well, according to my mother, since I quit my job with her (with EIGHT weeks) notice, she owed me nothing. My paycheck was HERS now. What?? Seriously?? And yep, she kept it....I went job hunting. Got a job at Target. The day I was supposed to start this job, I get another lovely Mom call "Well, I have cancelled the insurance....you better not be driving. I"ll call the cops..." She KNEW I need to be at work. She HAD the money to pay and she cancelled the insurance. The kicker was, I couldn't even get new insurance without HER. Her name was in the car (as it always is, she LOOOVES helping people get cars...guess what she does then???) And she wasn't going to do anything about this. I was stuck with this SUV, a payment and no job because I lost it because she cancelled my car insurance...
And if that wasn't enough...she called almost daily saying if I didn't pay her for the car payment and insurance, she was coming to take my car away from me. I was in absolute misery. Jamie....was pissed. Here is his new wife, stuck at home, with a car he can't afford...and no job because his mother in law is crazy. After one such 'I'm coming to take her car" voicemail, he said "Done. She wants it...she can have it. I'm sick of this shit...she's insane." I was like "NO, you cannot DO that. Not to MY mom. She'll kill me...she'll kill you..you don't do things like this. She must always have the upperhand if you want to survive." He explained it logically...she was threatening me, she had put me in a position where I couldn't support myself or do for myself and would NOT budge or help me...and that this burden had to go. This constant threat, for my own mental health, needed to be dealt with. And so, one night, he took the SUV, without insurance, down to my mother's house....his buddy followed him. They parked it outside my mom's house, put the keys and the payment book in the seat and drove away. I stayed curled up in my bed until he arrived, scared out of my mind...wondering if he'd pull it off and if he did....what the consequences would be. Didn't take too long to find out...
Lots of angry voicemails. I was called every name in the book. I was told to call her IMMEDIATELY. Then...I was DEAD TO HER!!
For my 19th birthday, Jamie came home with a toaster oven, then promptly called the telephone company and got our phone number changed....and unlisted. Did that stop her? No. She had Jamie's pager number. It was a pretty fancy thing back then to have a pager with a voicemail, but he did and my mom used it.
That's when more calls came in. Oh...that I stole all her jewelry and she was calling the cops...
And MY personal favorite....'And just so you know Jamie...that baby probably isn't even yours...you might want to call me to find out who's it is.." (And seriously y'all...that was just STUPID. I had a boyfriend before Jamie but he was not a contender for fatherhood and if that guy was, he wouldn't tell my MOM. He would have run away and left me high and dry. He wasn't a stand up type of guy...)
All of this because my mother lost total control of me. For years and years....I didn't KNOW (I do now) how completely messed up this was. I'd tell the story thinking that person listening would tell me how horrible I was to do this...but all I've ever gotten was a silent stare or maybe a "Wow, she is INSANE." One therapist told me that it wasn't often she recommended walking away from such an important relationship, but that until my mother received mental help, it was in my best interest to remove her from my life.
I spend the entire pregnancy with my first child somewhat afraid....I didn't know what would happen. I did let my sister know he was coming and while I was still being stitched up, my mother calls. Because it's all okay now. I refused to talk to her. She later told me that "hurt her feelings..." Seriously??? Wow. She ended up coming over later that week. It was awful. Uncomfortable, but I was young, a new mom and thought I needed MY mom to help guide me. I was also confident she could no longer do anything to me because we would be moving out of state. Little did I know what the next few months would bring. Another story for another day....
I tell this story often, just to recheck myself...Was this normal behavior or is my mother mentally ill? See, she hasn't gotten any better. She still pulls this shit. We had another round similar to this and yet, she's never apologized. She acknowledged this situation just recently. She tried to tell me I had "screwed her" (actually my older brother reminded her of this, he loves reminding her of how much better HE is) and I was like 'Oh yeah...how?" She said "That time you left me with that Explorer..." and I finally could say "Yeah... I left it there after you cancelled the insurance, threatened to take it back daily, said I stole your jewelry and told Jamie that Kyle wasn't his baby...." She went silent. She whispered "I had forgotten about that.." I said, loud and clear, "Well I haven't..." Her reply was "I was an idiot, a total idiot..." Ya think?
How about that apology?
Never came....
Sunday, September 1, 2013
When Words Are Too Much...
I keep meaning to hop on over to my neglected blog, say a few words...at least...then realize I have too many swimming around in my head and for some reason they are stuck. Probably one of those bottle-nose effect things. I mean, I can write a 5,000 blabbering thing about knitting, but when something major is happening, I am just so completely stuck.
Things in my life are topsy-turvy. But when I try to explain it comes out really whiny, scattered and crazy and I keep trying to find that place where I've talked about it enough for it to all make sense and it's just not coming easy.
Things feel very, very different.
You see, there have been several occasions in my life where my mother and I have stopped speaking. Big blow-ups where she declares I am no longer worth the time or effort, or that I'm dead to her...and then eventually, enough time passes that she forgets what she was so angry about and I allow her right back in with the unspoken agreement that these "things" won't be mentioned again.
Because....she's my mom.
You know Facebook is notorious for making you feel guilty if you don't have these overwhelming feelings of adoration for the person that birthed you. SHARE if you LOVE YOUR MOM!!!! And then the..."You better call your Mom because when she's gone, you'll be sorry....No matter what has happened, she is still YOUR MOM!" And whenever I've tried to explain to people that I don't share this sentiment, I get some version of "Well, you'd feel differently if she weren't here..."
People just do not get it.
You know what I get from my mom? Honestly? She calls me about three times a week to tell me about the weather, who has pissed her off, what Dr. So and So said on TV and to ask what my children are doing....not that she really cares (she hasn't so much as sent a birthday card for oh...ten years???) it just gives her something to tell her cronies. A little proof that she actually knows I have children.
She has also given me a memory bank full of craziness, sadness and despondence. The thing is, my memory is strong. Very strong. Hers is selective. She fondly recalls the dresses she bought me for the school dance, or the times we sat up doing Algebra problems before a test with her friend and mine. Yeah, when there were other people around, she played the part flawlessly. When I was sassy...around her friends...she'd laugh because they laughed, but should I say those same words the next day, I was met with a hand across my face and a reminder of what a "selfish little bitch" I was....just like "your father..." (who I barely remembered...)
It wasn't until I was well into adulthood that something clicked for me. My childhood was not normal. I know this because I would tell a few stories here and there about things my mother had done and instead of "Yeah, I know..." or any sort of recognition in the faces of my friends, they were horrified. And as my children grew, even when I wanted to SCREAM because they were being completely and totally obnoxious, not once did I feel compelled to shove them into their bedrooms and beat them so hard with a belt that there were welts up and down their legs and not once have I ever told them what little a-holes they are or how much I hate them. I mean...how can you do these things to a child??? To a PERSON? TO ANYONE?
The thing is, when this is your life, all you can do is rationalize it..."it's not so bad.." I've even heard my own younger brother say these things to me. "We're not all screwed up.." Same brother that was convinced my 15 year old son needed a truck load of condoms just to go away for a week at camp, because every 15 year old boy disrespects women in general and will just go randomly have sex with any girl willing....even when that boy has a girlfriend and wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Big shocker there. Integrity. Or that he WILL do drugs because that's what EVERY kid does. The thing is, I know a lot of teenagers. A LOT. And I know their parents and most of them (not all) totally expect that their children know better and want better. They don't accept this sort of thing as the "norm." We aren't sheltering, we are involved. Involved enough to know what's happening most of the time and stepping in when we are needed to re-direct and guide and TALK. Parents who don't do these things are NOT the "norm." Parents who have no relationship with their children other than to tell them how much they are failing, how much they suck, or to direct them to do the things they should be doing are not normal and it is NOT okay.
Normal parents should not miss the births of their daughters' first babies. They shouldn't tell their children they are dead to them. They shouldn't exclaim, with glee, that their child "looks terrified" when his mugshot hits the internet. No normal parents should find satisfaction in harming their child or seeing any harm come to them.
And this is what I've had to accept, little by little, piece by piece. It's been easy to just do my best to forget all this, move on, have a better life, but the thing is, it's all been replayed over and over again and I have to face it over and over again, each time with a bit more confidence that this was NOT normal. My childhood was not anywhere close to okay. I know this because if I treated my children that way, EVER, even ONE DAY, I would want to die. Seriously, I couldn't imagine my children ever thinking of me...of having the memories *I* have with my mother...about me.
And so here I am. I am at these cross-roads where I know the only right thing to do is walk away completely. My mother is not going to change or apologize or even acknowledge this. She wants me to come over to her side where I agree that things she has done...and things she is currently doing, are the right thing. But, I can't. I can't do it. I can't be one more person in her circle that says nothing when she is harming a person she has promised to protect.
The thing I know is that by playing along, playing nice, playing this part of supportive daughter puts me in the place of every adult who waltzed through my life, too afraid or unaware to help me out of that hellacious situation. And no matter what, I can't be one of those people for the person my Mom is hurting now. Someone eventually has to stand up and say "No more..." Someone has to say "You are the common denominator." And if that person has to be me...
So be it.
It sucks.
A lot.
Things in my life are topsy-turvy. But when I try to explain it comes out really whiny, scattered and crazy and I keep trying to find that place where I've talked about it enough for it to all make sense and it's just not coming easy.
Things feel very, very different.
You see, there have been several occasions in my life where my mother and I have stopped speaking. Big blow-ups where she declares I am no longer worth the time or effort, or that I'm dead to her...and then eventually, enough time passes that she forgets what she was so angry about and I allow her right back in with the unspoken agreement that these "things" won't be mentioned again.
Because....she's my mom.
You know Facebook is notorious for making you feel guilty if you don't have these overwhelming feelings of adoration for the person that birthed you. SHARE if you LOVE YOUR MOM!!!! And then the..."You better call your Mom because when she's gone, you'll be sorry....No matter what has happened, she is still YOUR MOM!" And whenever I've tried to explain to people that I don't share this sentiment, I get some version of "Well, you'd feel differently if she weren't here..."
People just do not get it.
You know what I get from my mom? Honestly? She calls me about three times a week to tell me about the weather, who has pissed her off, what Dr. So and So said on TV and to ask what my children are doing....not that she really cares (she hasn't so much as sent a birthday card for oh...ten years???) it just gives her something to tell her cronies. A little proof that she actually knows I have children.
She has also given me a memory bank full of craziness, sadness and despondence. The thing is, my memory is strong. Very strong. Hers is selective. She fondly recalls the dresses she bought me for the school dance, or the times we sat up doing Algebra problems before a test with her friend and mine. Yeah, when there were other people around, she played the part flawlessly. When I was sassy...around her friends...she'd laugh because they laughed, but should I say those same words the next day, I was met with a hand across my face and a reminder of what a "selfish little bitch" I was....just like "your father..." (who I barely remembered...)
It wasn't until I was well into adulthood that something clicked for me. My childhood was not normal. I know this because I would tell a few stories here and there about things my mother had done and instead of "Yeah, I know..." or any sort of recognition in the faces of my friends, they were horrified. And as my children grew, even when I wanted to SCREAM because they were being completely and totally obnoxious, not once did I feel compelled to shove them into their bedrooms and beat them so hard with a belt that there were welts up and down their legs and not once have I ever told them what little a-holes they are or how much I hate them. I mean...how can you do these things to a child??? To a PERSON? TO ANYONE?
The thing is, when this is your life, all you can do is rationalize it..."it's not so bad.." I've even heard my own younger brother say these things to me. "We're not all screwed up.." Same brother that was convinced my 15 year old son needed a truck load of condoms just to go away for a week at camp, because every 15 year old boy disrespects women in general and will just go randomly have sex with any girl willing....even when that boy has a girlfriend and wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Big shocker there. Integrity. Or that he WILL do drugs because that's what EVERY kid does. The thing is, I know a lot of teenagers. A LOT. And I know their parents and most of them (not all) totally expect that their children know better and want better. They don't accept this sort of thing as the "norm." We aren't sheltering, we are involved. Involved enough to know what's happening most of the time and stepping in when we are needed to re-direct and guide and TALK. Parents who don't do these things are NOT the "norm." Parents who have no relationship with their children other than to tell them how much they are failing, how much they suck, or to direct them to do the things they should be doing are not normal and it is NOT okay.
Normal parents should not miss the births of their daughters' first babies. They shouldn't tell their children they are dead to them. They shouldn't exclaim, with glee, that their child "looks terrified" when his mugshot hits the internet. No normal parents should find satisfaction in harming their child or seeing any harm come to them.
And this is what I've had to accept, little by little, piece by piece. It's been easy to just do my best to forget all this, move on, have a better life, but the thing is, it's all been replayed over and over again and I have to face it over and over again, each time with a bit more confidence that this was NOT normal. My childhood was not anywhere close to okay. I know this because if I treated my children that way, EVER, even ONE DAY, I would want to die. Seriously, I couldn't imagine my children ever thinking of me...of having the memories *I* have with my mother...about me.
And so here I am. I am at these cross-roads where I know the only right thing to do is walk away completely. My mother is not going to change or apologize or even acknowledge this. She wants me to come over to her side where I agree that things she has done...and things she is currently doing, are the right thing. But, I can't. I can't do it. I can't be one more person in her circle that says nothing when she is harming a person she has promised to protect.
The thing I know is that by playing along, playing nice, playing this part of supportive daughter puts me in the place of every adult who waltzed through my life, too afraid or unaware to help me out of that hellacious situation. And no matter what, I can't be one of those people for the person my Mom is hurting now. Someone eventually has to stand up and say "No more..." Someone has to say "You are the common denominator." And if that person has to be me...
So be it.
It sucks.
A lot.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Hooked on Hooking
When I started this blog, I envisioned many, many posts about my knitting as well as my family, but it turns out I suck at the whole picture thing. SO many steps. Take pictures...upload pictures...choose pictures...post pictures. That's a lot of wasted knitting time dudes, so I don't make it much of a priority. Alas, I finally did snap some pictures and I figured y'all would think I'm lying about this knitting thing if I didn't provide some proof every now and then. And well, most of this isn't even knitting, it's crochet...
And this makes me happy.
Because?
I've only been able to crochet for about a year. It eluded me. It's very, very different from knitting. When you are knitting something, all your stitches are already there. You cast on and just work what's on the needle. With crochet, there are more decisions, and in my opinion is a bit more mathematical than knitting is, as far as getting the shape you want when you are done with the project. I just couldn't "see" it the way I did knitting. I found a really indepth picture tutorial for a granny square and just followed it step by step. I finally figured it out. I still couldn't read patterns at that point, but I could crochet.
But now? Now that I understand by DOING an hdc in every st, sl the last.....I GET it. I'm so proud. I love figuring out new things!
On to the picture parade.
I already shared this on Facebook, but this is a Neat Ripple by attic 24 in 13 different yarns:
Yeah, I knit a rooster, but the crazy part was that TAIL. Like 20 different tail feathers, and most of them are in a sparkley ribbon yarn. It. Took. Forever. But it's done.
And this makes me happy.
Because?
I've only been able to crochet for about a year. It eluded me. It's very, very different from knitting. When you are knitting something, all your stitches are already there. You cast on and just work what's on the needle. With crochet, there are more decisions, and in my opinion is a bit more mathematical than knitting is, as far as getting the shape you want when you are done with the project. I just couldn't "see" it the way I did knitting. I found a really indepth picture tutorial for a granny square and just followed it step by step. I finally figured it out. I still couldn't read patterns at that point, but I could crochet.
But now? Now that I understand by DOING an hdc in every st, sl the last.....I GET it. I'm so proud. I love figuring out new things!
On to the picture parade.
I already shared this on Facebook, but this is a Neat Ripple by attic 24 in 13 different yarns:
I also finished, border included the first color ripple I made:
This one is being set back because there are a few babies being born in my circle soon and this will make a lovely girl present ;)
Speaking of babies, if I'm going to have a girl present sitting around, I need to be fair to the boys too right?
This one is quite a bit smaller, but I intend on adding a really thick border of the chocolate all the way around to give it some width, plus it's more for the car or carseat ;)
Then, the cousin blanket. Oy. I ended up making it two repeats too wide, so I am just crocheting it in reverse order, using the old version for yarn for the new...and I added in a third green because I loved it:
And mother of the year goes to....someone who doesn't yell or have the OCD I do, but these two items definitely have me as a runner up!
Yeah, I knit a rooster, but the crazy part was that TAIL. Like 20 different tail feathers, and most of them are in a sparkley ribbon yarn. It. Took. Forever. But it's done.
Playing with some of the crazy yarns I got in the grab bags. This skirt fits Cassidy's Princess Pink, even if it does scream "Hoochie" That's okay, I totally plan to knit leggings to go underneath, because really what else would I be doing with my but outfitting a stuffed animal with proper clothing?
And lastly, a commission knitting. So what? Yes I did get paid in yarn, but dudes, that's even BETTER than money in my world, trust me!
Wait, that wasn't last...I have been working on this H sweater forever, and it's at a point where it requires a lot of concentration. Because I am doing the intarsia work. I can't do this during my regular zone out times (like when doing phonics or science...this requires my undivided attention)
ALMOST done with the H. Then I need to knit it up to the neckline and graft the back and front together. Before that happens though, I must sit with a yarn needle and take all those wonky stitches and pull them a bit tighter and neater, and then use the yarn tails to weave in around the H, THEN steam block the front before I attach it to the back. I am glad the young man is patient because when I said this would take awhile I meant it. I could have had in done in about a week, but it's like two colors. Not enough to hold my attention for very long. So it's a "have to" project that I pick up whenever I have a few moments late at night or very early morning. Can't wait to see it all finished up.
So that's what I've been up to. My yarn storage is out of control because I have so much. So today I'm finishing up the organizing by color/project and we'll see if I can't pull a Tardis move and get all that yarn into my tiny storage space. Must Knit Faster! (Or hook faster. If I didn't knit...and all I did was crochet, I'd simply have to change the whole scene of being called Hookers....because I wouldn't like to be called that. At all.)
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Many, many hands makes....
Light work? Or a huge freakin mess? That's the choice we've been faced with the past few months. It's been a constant struggle of keeping on top of everything and unfortunately we're perpetually behind. On everything. After doing a big home improvement project, we finally felt that itty bitty straws on our figurative camel hump and called a huge cease and desist to everything while we figured out how to correct the current state of affairs in our home.
Things like a garage that looks like Hoarders should come in with their arsenal of therapists and dumpsters.....a kitchen I can't stand to be in because it looks like a post 8.9 on the richter scale.....every single room in turmoil and chaos, maybe surface picked up and clean, but not the way it SHOULD be. I've been told these are the years to let some things go and just roll with it, but dude....that does not work with this many people. I kind of NEED things to be in a certain order so that our days run smoothly and I'm not spending 2 hours looking for a pencil, then a sharpener, and THEN the damn book we need. It's a nightmare.
I've always been on top of things like this,but I've found since being in THIS house, I do NOT have it all together. There's a good reason for this....not just an excuse to justify it, but something GOOD happening...we keep re-configuring the house towards our eventual goal of what it will be and with each change, everything shifts. So we have to figure out, all over again, what goes where and who is responsible for all the different areas and it gets exhausting.
So yeah, lots of chaos, lots of stress and lots of going back to the basics of what I know about time and home (and homeschool) management. Here's what we have going on right now....
1. I cannot do the schedule thing anymore. It's too limiting. It means that if anyone wakes up even 15 minutes late, we're behind the rest of the day. I've tried it and with this many people, it's too constricting to keep to a timed schedule every day. Things happen. There are too many variables in my day to make this a reasonable time management tool, so we're going back to routines. Just a simple routine and basic flow of time rather than a set schedule. That means the kids (and I) wake up and do the same things every day, regardless of what time it is. If someone has been up late or sick, or something beyond reasonable control, they can just jump in as soon as they can, rather than jumping in behind.
2. Micromanagement. My house is divided into zones. Each child over 5 has their own zone they are responsible for on a daily basis. Older children help by checking and directing, and Mom trains them on how to get it done correctly. However, we have two "group areas." The kitchen and the living room. In these areas, they have micro zones. So one child does plates and bowls and cleans the stove every evening. Another does pots and pans and takes out the trash. They all have jobs, however....there is always SOMETHING left behind that is "not my job..." and I've had to assess which things get left and who's they are. But the thing is, these things aren't used enough to be a regular, so instead of assigning the cake pan to the pots and pans guy who NEVER uses cake pans, I am dividing anything left between all the dish washing children. I've also come up with 20 different "focus tasks" for the kitchen, that will keep things dealt with without having one person, or many people spending hours on it. All big kids will have one focus job per weekday. I've done this with the living room as well. I am HOPING this keeps us caught up and not having to spend hours and hours on our precious weekends doing regular household maintenance. These are small tasks that if you had to do all 20 of them in one day would eat up a significant amount of time. Like wipe off the ceiling fan, use glass cleaner on the cabinets, reorganize top pantry shelf...stuff like that...All tasks that will take 10 minutes or less.
3. Within in each zone there are some really big jobs that will take a while and are just part of living in the house. These jobs are allowance jobs. But also broken down into small bits . So like cleaning one shelf in the fridge, rather than the whole thing because that's tough for a non-adult to take on. The entire fridge is a $5-6 job (if it's reasonably clean, which it is right now) so $1 per shelf and door. Wiping down walls and doors, cleaning off the bookshelves very good (removing books, dusting, putting back..) those are all paid jobs because that's how we roll here. I am going to be posting a sheet that lists all these jobs right by the daily task list for easy reference.
4. Rotating weekend focus. Jamie came up with a long list of things we do on a recurring basis, that as of now, we do on a crisis as needed basis. Things like the chicken coop, the garage, the cars, clothing storage maintenance...and so on. He's assigned all these tasks as needed on a schedule that has a Week A-D and tells us which one we'll be focusing on that weekend, to keep up with them like normal people instead of "Oh crap, we can't walk into our garage....guess we should spend all Saturday working on it..." (When you do home improvement, that garage can get full of random tools, wood, and all that stuff FAST)
5. I've made the same kind of list for our meal plans. Weeks A-D. I usually make a grocery list every single week (or two) depending on what we have going on. No more. It's all going on the computer. I will have each meal plan made with it's coordinating shopping list and I will print each list as needed, cross off what I already have on hand and then shop. My plan is to always be on the lookout for the sale items and buy them regardless of what week I'm in. I'll just cross it off my week whatever list when I get to it.
6. Jamie liked my friend Kelli's idea for a syllabus for our older children. So everyday they will have a set task they have to complete for school, in every subject and while we will check up on them, we will be trying to have them take control of their own time. This has always been the case, but we haven't really put it into their hands as much as we should have, and we've have no real consequence if the work wasn't done other than they had to work on it in the evening. However, we have now been doing Friday Game Night and it's a hit. We ALL love it....and so...the leverage is now...you don't finish your assigned task, you do not participate in the game that Friday. I am hoping and praying that since we've already instituted game night, no one will want to miss it, so no one will challenge it. It may take a kid a time or two losing it to get with the program, but I suppose that's life.
It's been a harrowing few weeks....that critical mass point where it feels like everything has exploded. Not a great way to go about a busy life....or at least not the way to enjoy it. Gotta get our ducks in a row, our rows in a column, our columns in a whatever comes next ;)
So that's one thing I've been up to. Making massive, detailed lists to get some sort of handle on this crazy house, but I've been doing other cool stuff too (Not an internet FAST...a DIET LOL!! I have actually stuck to it, but...it's modified. I'll write more about that later!) For now, it's all about the time and house management....one step at a time.
Things like a garage that looks like Hoarders should come in with their arsenal of therapists and dumpsters.....a kitchen I can't stand to be in because it looks like a post 8.9 on the richter scale.....every single room in turmoil and chaos, maybe surface picked up and clean, but not the way it SHOULD be. I've been told these are the years to let some things go and just roll with it, but dude....that does not work with this many people. I kind of NEED things to be in a certain order so that our days run smoothly and I'm not spending 2 hours looking for a pencil, then a sharpener, and THEN the damn book we need. It's a nightmare.
I've always been on top of things like this,but I've found since being in THIS house, I do NOT have it all together. There's a good reason for this....not just an excuse to justify it, but something GOOD happening...we keep re-configuring the house towards our eventual goal of what it will be and with each change, everything shifts. So we have to figure out, all over again, what goes where and who is responsible for all the different areas and it gets exhausting.
So yeah, lots of chaos, lots of stress and lots of going back to the basics of what I know about time and home (and homeschool) management. Here's what we have going on right now....
1. I cannot do the schedule thing anymore. It's too limiting. It means that if anyone wakes up even 15 minutes late, we're behind the rest of the day. I've tried it and with this many people, it's too constricting to keep to a timed schedule every day. Things happen. There are too many variables in my day to make this a reasonable time management tool, so we're going back to routines. Just a simple routine and basic flow of time rather than a set schedule. That means the kids (and I) wake up and do the same things every day, regardless of what time it is. If someone has been up late or sick, or something beyond reasonable control, they can just jump in as soon as they can, rather than jumping in behind.
2. Micromanagement. My house is divided into zones. Each child over 5 has their own zone they are responsible for on a daily basis. Older children help by checking and directing, and Mom trains them on how to get it done correctly. However, we have two "group areas." The kitchen and the living room. In these areas, they have micro zones. So one child does plates and bowls and cleans the stove every evening. Another does pots and pans and takes out the trash. They all have jobs, however....there is always SOMETHING left behind that is "not my job..." and I've had to assess which things get left and who's they are. But the thing is, these things aren't used enough to be a regular, so instead of assigning the cake pan to the pots and pans guy who NEVER uses cake pans, I am dividing anything left between all the dish washing children. I've also come up with 20 different "focus tasks" for the kitchen, that will keep things dealt with without having one person, or many people spending hours on it. All big kids will have one focus job per weekday. I've done this with the living room as well. I am HOPING this keeps us caught up and not having to spend hours and hours on our precious weekends doing regular household maintenance. These are small tasks that if you had to do all 20 of them in one day would eat up a significant amount of time. Like wipe off the ceiling fan, use glass cleaner on the cabinets, reorganize top pantry shelf...stuff like that...All tasks that will take 10 minutes or less.
3. Within in each zone there are some really big jobs that will take a while and are just part of living in the house. These jobs are allowance jobs. But also broken down into small bits . So like cleaning one shelf in the fridge, rather than the whole thing because that's tough for a non-adult to take on. The entire fridge is a $5-6 job (if it's reasonably clean, which it is right now) so $1 per shelf and door. Wiping down walls and doors, cleaning off the bookshelves very good (removing books, dusting, putting back..) those are all paid jobs because that's how we roll here. I am going to be posting a sheet that lists all these jobs right by the daily task list for easy reference.
4. Rotating weekend focus. Jamie came up with a long list of things we do on a recurring basis, that as of now, we do on a crisis as needed basis. Things like the chicken coop, the garage, the cars, clothing storage maintenance...and so on. He's assigned all these tasks as needed on a schedule that has a Week A-D and tells us which one we'll be focusing on that weekend, to keep up with them like normal people instead of "Oh crap, we can't walk into our garage....guess we should spend all Saturday working on it..." (When you do home improvement, that garage can get full of random tools, wood, and all that stuff FAST)
5. I've made the same kind of list for our meal plans. Weeks A-D. I usually make a grocery list every single week (or two) depending on what we have going on. No more. It's all going on the computer. I will have each meal plan made with it's coordinating shopping list and I will print each list as needed, cross off what I already have on hand and then shop. My plan is to always be on the lookout for the sale items and buy them regardless of what week I'm in. I'll just cross it off my week whatever list when I get to it.
6. Jamie liked my friend Kelli's idea for a syllabus for our older children. So everyday they will have a set task they have to complete for school, in every subject and while we will check up on them, we will be trying to have them take control of their own time. This has always been the case, but we haven't really put it into their hands as much as we should have, and we've have no real consequence if the work wasn't done other than they had to work on it in the evening. However, we have now been doing Friday Game Night and it's a hit. We ALL love it....and so...the leverage is now...you don't finish your assigned task, you do not participate in the game that Friday. I am hoping and praying that since we've already instituted game night, no one will want to miss it, so no one will challenge it. It may take a kid a time or two losing it to get with the program, but I suppose that's life.
It's been a harrowing few weeks....that critical mass point where it feels like everything has exploded. Not a great way to go about a busy life....or at least not the way to enjoy it. Gotta get our ducks in a row, our rows in a column, our columns in a whatever comes next ;)
So that's one thing I've been up to. Making massive, detailed lists to get some sort of handle on this crazy house, but I've been doing other cool stuff too (Not an internet FAST...a DIET LOL!! I have actually stuck to it, but...it's modified. I'll write more about that later!) For now, it's all about the time and house management....one step at a time.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Intro To Girl World: My First Experience
Okay, so not my FIRST experience because I did go to public school where anything from the brand of shoes you wore to the brand of shoes you didn't was cause for public ridicule...but my first ADULT experience of Girl World.
It was a doozy.
After settling in to my first grown up home....a Navy housing apartment, I met my quadmates, April, Jen and Candy. We all lived in interconnected units and saw each other 17 times a day, whether we wanted to or not. April was the first girl I met and after five minutes, she offered me the use of her washer and dryer. This was a BIG deal. We certainly didn't have such fancy things in our first place and she was awfully proud she did. It was then I found out why she would no longer talk to her next door neigbor, Candy. They had a falling out over these precious appliances. Apparently Candy took April up on her offer much too often and so Candy decided to go get her OWN washer and dryer and not only did she do this terrible thing, she got a model that ALSO had a hat drying rack insert. For shame! (those white sailor hats looked like hell if you tried to tumble dry them. This rack was a big deal. A way bigger deal than Pam Anderson's) So April hated Candy and Candy holed up, not sure what to think of it. I rarely saw her.
Then there was Jennifer. Country bumpkin, lover of the pipe weed and April's best buddy. They got along great and got along well with me. Until they realized...I liked Candy too. As a matter of fact, out of all four of us, Candy was the most put together. She had her degree, worked from home and was going back to school in her hometown once her husband was finished with school in Orlando. Candy was the one who went with me to my first sonogram appointment and had a lovely lunch and library visit afterwards.
Well...that went over like...well...I won't use the phrase Jamie always uses. It has to do with a punch bowl and something you usually only discuss when dealing with dirty diapers...so yeah...we'll leave that out.
Time goes by and April and her hubby are shipped out. He didn't make the cut. Failed out of power school. That left Candy..Jen..and me. But wait, Jen HATED Candy for getting the same washing machine April got remember? They were MORtAL enemies.
Along this time I met the girl who would become my very best friend. She's still my best friend. We clicked immediately and starting spending a lot of time together. We were both expecting babies and had a lot in common. She was two blocks down and we spent pretty much every day together after we met.
I was still friendly with both Jen and Candy, afterall, I had no grudge with them, I just met a new friend. I still hung out and talked on the porch and always said hello when seeing them. But things started to change. Soon, Jen and Candy were best friends, even though they previously couldn't stand each other and it all boiled down to me not playing the game. You see, I never took sides. I had no iron in the fire. I figured I would just be nice to all of them because no one had done anything to me.
But that was the wrong choice, you see....when you don't pick sides, then you have by default. You are the enemy. If a girl like this has nothing on you, nothing to hold over you head or gossip about you, you're kind of SOL as my mom always said. Soon, I got glares and giggles when I'd come home. Saying hi, only to be greeted with eyerolls and more giggles. Apparently, I became very funny for some odd reason.
And it was baffling. I had not changed. I had done nothing different and yet, two former enemies couldn't quite bond over their similiaries because they probably didn't have much to begin with. Except me. I suppose having a common enemy was the one thing that made their friendship work and honestly, at that point, I didn't care. They could have each other. I had a wonderful husband who was kicking ass in school, a new best friend who was so funny, awesome and amazing and a new baby on the way.
Oddly enough, after Candy left, Jen was really, really sweet to me all over again. I was sweet back, but didn't bite the cookie she was holding out. No time for that crap.
They eventually all moved away and just mere months before moving, we got the best neighbors ever. No drama, no gossip, no cattiness. Just a good old boy with his good old girl, some beers and a charcoal grill and many, many nights of sitting outside, talking, visiting and enjoying each other.
She was cool. So was he. But he wasn't in the Navy. She was ;) Ha!! ;) Awesome!
It was a doozy.
After settling in to my first grown up home....a Navy housing apartment, I met my quadmates, April, Jen and Candy. We all lived in interconnected units and saw each other 17 times a day, whether we wanted to or not. April was the first girl I met and after five minutes, she offered me the use of her washer and dryer. This was a BIG deal. We certainly didn't have such fancy things in our first place and she was awfully proud she did. It was then I found out why she would no longer talk to her next door neigbor, Candy. They had a falling out over these precious appliances. Apparently Candy took April up on her offer much too often and so Candy decided to go get her OWN washer and dryer and not only did she do this terrible thing, she got a model that ALSO had a hat drying rack insert. For shame! (those white sailor hats looked like hell if you tried to tumble dry them. This rack was a big deal. A way bigger deal than Pam Anderson's) So April hated Candy and Candy holed up, not sure what to think of it. I rarely saw her.
Then there was Jennifer. Country bumpkin, lover of the pipe weed and April's best buddy. They got along great and got along well with me. Until they realized...I liked Candy too. As a matter of fact, out of all four of us, Candy was the most put together. She had her degree, worked from home and was going back to school in her hometown once her husband was finished with school in Orlando. Candy was the one who went with me to my first sonogram appointment and had a lovely lunch and library visit afterwards.
Well...that went over like...well...I won't use the phrase Jamie always uses. It has to do with a punch bowl and something you usually only discuss when dealing with dirty diapers...so yeah...we'll leave that out.
Time goes by and April and her hubby are shipped out. He didn't make the cut. Failed out of power school. That left Candy..Jen..and me. But wait, Jen HATED Candy for getting the same washing machine April got remember? They were MORtAL enemies.
Along this time I met the girl who would become my very best friend. She's still my best friend. We clicked immediately and starting spending a lot of time together. We were both expecting babies and had a lot in common. She was two blocks down and we spent pretty much every day together after we met.
I was still friendly with both Jen and Candy, afterall, I had no grudge with them, I just met a new friend. I still hung out and talked on the porch and always said hello when seeing them. But things started to change. Soon, Jen and Candy were best friends, even though they previously couldn't stand each other and it all boiled down to me not playing the game. You see, I never took sides. I had no iron in the fire. I figured I would just be nice to all of them because no one had done anything to me.
But that was the wrong choice, you see....when you don't pick sides, then you have by default. You are the enemy. If a girl like this has nothing on you, nothing to hold over you head or gossip about you, you're kind of SOL as my mom always said. Soon, I got glares and giggles when I'd come home. Saying hi, only to be greeted with eyerolls and more giggles. Apparently, I became very funny for some odd reason.
And it was baffling. I had not changed. I had done nothing different and yet, two former enemies couldn't quite bond over their similiaries because they probably didn't have much to begin with. Except me. I suppose having a common enemy was the one thing that made their friendship work and honestly, at that point, I didn't care. They could have each other. I had a wonderful husband who was kicking ass in school, a new best friend who was so funny, awesome and amazing and a new baby on the way.
Oddly enough, after Candy left, Jen was really, really sweet to me all over again. I was sweet back, but didn't bite the cookie she was holding out. No time for that crap.
They eventually all moved away and just mere months before moving, we got the best neighbors ever. No drama, no gossip, no cattiness. Just a good old boy with his good old girl, some beers and a charcoal grill and many, many nights of sitting outside, talking, visiting and enjoying each other.
She was cool. So was he. But he wasn't in the Navy. She was ;) Ha!! ;) Awesome!
Friday, July 5, 2013
An Inconvenient Truth
Many, many years ago, I became a Christian. Not too long after that an old friend and I were reunited after a falling out and while we were apart, she also started living her life for God. When she walked into my home, it was like nothing had happened. We were tight again and all had been forgiven. And I gave God the credit for that because my personality isn't one that backs down from (my version) of righteousness. This reunion with a person closer to me than a sister compelled me to seek out other Christians, absolutely sure I would find the same selfless love and acceptance. So we decided to attend church.
It didn't go like that. Church was the environment in which I quickly (very quickly) became disillusioned with Christianity. As Jamie and I grew in faith and knowledge, we dubbed what we were seeing and experiencing Churchianity. So much of what was taught was absolute bullcrap, not found anywhere in Scripture. This bothered us greatly and we moved away from this sort of social group. It seemed every time we attended church it was more a briefing on who we should hate and why they were responsible for the moral demise of our country, rather than a gathering of the saints to worship our Lord together.
No thanks, dudes.
As I grew in my own faith, it nagged me and grated me and left me deflated that as a requirement of my faith, I had to hate ANYONE. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't be a part of it.
So while I kept my beliefs and my love for God, I've got to be honest. I started avoiding other Christians that regularly attended a church building. Every one of them was full of themselves, not the spirit. Hateful, mean, oh so quick to judge and yet not allowing anyone close enough to see their own flaws. I started feeling like my social circle would never include other Christians because they were in name only. They really didn't live it, just preached it and if you've known me any time at all, you know I can't be around dishonesty like that. I just can't.
So for awhile, I made my circle with non-believers because it appeared that they were more suited to what I believed, odd as that sounds. They were open, loving, striving to be better people and make the world a better place. My circle of these individuals was small, but excellent. They didn't question my faith at all. As a matter of fact, I was told on more than one occasion that if more Christians were like me, than the person wouldn't mind hanging around a few. Sadly, their experiences were more like mine.
And I have to admit, I sort of put these people up on a pedestal. Not just the PERSON, but the whole group of loving, accepting, caring individuals. I felt like they had it right and even though we didn't share the same faith, we shared a mission: Love. Love Everyone. No matter what.
But things have changed for me. I have seen, as I've grown up a little more, that every single group has its own rules and hatefulness. They believe that what THEY think is right trumps what anyone else believes and everything they dislike about the Christians, they feel is totally okay if THEY do it.
Want an example? Good, I have one.
It didn't go like that. Church was the environment in which I quickly (very quickly) became disillusioned with Christianity. As Jamie and I grew in faith and knowledge, we dubbed what we were seeing and experiencing Churchianity. So much of what was taught was absolute bullcrap, not found anywhere in Scripture. This bothered us greatly and we moved away from this sort of social group. It seemed every time we attended church it was more a briefing on who we should hate and why they were responsible for the moral demise of our country, rather than a gathering of the saints to worship our Lord together.
No thanks, dudes.
As I grew in my own faith, it nagged me and grated me and left me deflated that as a requirement of my faith, I had to hate ANYONE. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't be a part of it.
So while I kept my beliefs and my love for God, I've got to be honest. I started avoiding other Christians that regularly attended a church building. Every one of them was full of themselves, not the spirit. Hateful, mean, oh so quick to judge and yet not allowing anyone close enough to see their own flaws. I started feeling like my social circle would never include other Christians because they were in name only. They really didn't live it, just preached it and if you've known me any time at all, you know I can't be around dishonesty like that. I just can't.
So for awhile, I made my circle with non-believers because it appeared that they were more suited to what I believed, odd as that sounds. They were open, loving, striving to be better people and make the world a better place. My circle of these individuals was small, but excellent. They didn't question my faith at all. As a matter of fact, I was told on more than one occasion that if more Christians were like me, than the person wouldn't mind hanging around a few. Sadly, their experiences were more like mine.
And I have to admit, I sort of put these people up on a pedestal. Not just the PERSON, but the whole group of loving, accepting, caring individuals. I felt like they had it right and even though we didn't share the same faith, we shared a mission: Love. Love Everyone. No matter what.
But things have changed for me. I have seen, as I've grown up a little more, that every single group has its own rules and hatefulness. They believe that what THEY think is right trumps what anyone else believes and everything they dislike about the Christians, they feel is totally okay if THEY do it.
Want an example? Good, I have one.
Let's examine this shall we? Two straight guys vandalizing a property where a message they don't believe in is being preached. Funny right?
Or not.
You see, the biggest problem people have with Christians is that we "force our beliefs down other people's throats." I concur. I've seen it in action. Not going to deny that one bit. And it's not right because as Christians we believe that any change that we experience comes from the saving grace of God. We can't take credit it for it, so the whole idea to 'get your crap together if you believe in God...and make laws so that everyone has to do what God says.." is really counter-Christian. It just is.
But, and the big but...is that everything the nay-sayers believe we do is being played out right before your very eyes. "We believe that what you believe in is wrong and because we feel it serves the greater good, this act of vandalism is accepted and necessary."
You following me here? The Christian camp believes they need to preach this message. Like it or not, the Bible says what it says (And I can tell in five seconds flat if someone has read it or has just read ABOUT it or has gathered third, fourth or more hand information about it. Try me. I will call you out right then, right there and it won't be pretty. If you haven't read it, shut it. Thank you.) I digress. Christians believe that for the greater good, they must speak out. And we are HATED for it. Hated.
And yet, this action above was applauded as righteous.
Because there's nothing more noble than defacing the property of your "enemies" and mocking their deeply held beliefs. This is funny, adorable, RIGHT ON MAN!!
Really?
All this love and acceptance we're vying for...means hating and showing non-acceptance? How does that even equate?
Just going by logic, what is this saying? It's saying that any person who believes that their actions will cause blessing to another person can act in the manner they feel best suits that (or those) individual(s). Believe it or not, those people who put up the original billboard felt that were doing just that. But it's more accepted and oh so funny when someone who does NOT believe in that defaces personal property to send a message.
Because we should fight intolerance....with more intolerance (and illegal intolerance at that.)
What am I saying here? Was it funny? A little bit. I get it. Ha ha. Cute word play, but bottom line for me is...there really is no love and tolerance in any circle. It's not a thing until you believe, for yourself, that you will love without qualification and treat EVERYONE...
EVERYONE...
With love, respect and decency. The action illustration does none of this. And so we're left with the reality that one does not practice what they preach. And that's truly sad.
So for all those Jesus lovers who love him, but nothing about his message (those who paint Jesus as a left leaning Woodstock attendee)...what about turning the other cheek did you NOT understand?
It's easy people. If you don't like gay marriage or gay anything don't be gay, but here's the thing...
If you don't like Christians or Christian anything, don't be one.
Let's leave the rest lie.
Otherwise, where are we? A part of the problem, not the solution.
Two wrongs have never once equaled a right. And repaying a message you don't agree with with an act of degradation...well...good luck with that.
Cause I certainly feel all warm and fuzzy now.
Not.
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