What is love, but whatever your heart needs around

So over the past four months we've been dealing with car mishaps/accidents. To be exact, we've had four mishaps/accidents in four months. That's one a month since the beginning of the year. To say that we are losing our humor over it would be an understatement.

In January, our son calls from the parking lot of a 7-Eleven to tell us an older woman has slid on a patch of ice and crashed into the drivers door, smashing that in.

In February, we get a call from our oldest daughter that while she's driving down the highway behind a truck, a sheet of metal or something flies out beneath the truck, dents and scratches up the hood of the car then proceeds to fly onto the windshield which scratches and cracks that all up.

In March, I get a call from my hysterical, crying youngest daughter that she has just crashed into the back of a truck which had just crashed into a the back of a car that decided to stop and then turn her blinkers on (so she crashed into the crash in front of her--it was torrential rain during this accident if that matters). She was driving my car that was spotless and less than a year old and it was totaled.

Let's take a breather here for a minute because I need one.

Let's also get out of the way that my children were not injured in any way in any of these accidents/mishaps which I know should be the main concern but somehow gets forgotten when we keep getting these calls and are then left scrambling to repair/replace the cars that are damaged or totaled.

About a week ago, I finally got a new car to replace the one that was totaled. My husband has spent countless hours getting all the cars repaired so that everything is in working order again. I have sacrificed not having a car for at least a month so that everyone else has a vehicle while waiting for all the cars to be repaired and whatnot. So I'm sitting down reading a book yesterday (April) when my cell phone rings and I see that it's my oldest daughter and I was like, "OMG, I know that she's been in another accident or something because she NEVER calls in the middle of the day unless she gets in an accident." (as her mother, I know these things)

I flip open the phone and this is what I hear, "Some old lady just drove into me, dented the drivers door all in, broke the tire and tore off the side mirror."

Honestly, I just don't even know what to think anymore because I figured that we had three bad car things happen and that that would be that but I guess not.

We went over to the body shop so that I could see the damage today and I was standing there shaking my head and my husband said, "It's always something, isn't it?"

And I said, "Doesn't this just depress you?"

And without skipping a beat or having to think at all this is what he said...

"Baby, I'm never depressed as long as I have you around."

And so I wasn't sad or angry about it anymore because that filled my heart and I know he means it.

How to live a life

"I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live, Oskar."~Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

I have the house to myself right now and I know that's not a big thing but lately I can't seem to find even a corner of this house that isn't noisy and cluttered up with someone else's life, and so it feels like a big thing to me.

Three years ago I was struggling to find peace with the fact that my children were growing up and away and it took me a while, but I learned to live with their absences. Now my oldest has moved back and my middle child will be home from college shortly and I am back to where I was before only now I've had just the littlest taste of independence and alone time and I find that I miss it sorely.

Last week I struggled so hard to stay on track with my exercising. I think what happens is that I get frustrated with my life and how it seems like I'm destined to always be the one who lives with the decisions other people make--that I am never the one who says, "I've decided THIS, and you will now revolve your life around that decision." It gets me down and then I start to think how much I hate exercising, how much I hate to pull my hair back and sweat and feel all achy afterwards. And even though I know that exercise is essential to my mental well being, I decide to skip a day or a week and the next thing I know a year will have gone by without me doing anything. I told myself this time (almost a year ago I started working out again) that I would not allow myself to give it up again and so far, I've stayed true to myself but I am telling you, it is hard.

I find that when my husband works too many days at home and the kids are under foot that I get anxious and angry and those are the days I most want to skip doing what I know is good for me and I'm not sure why. I think I like sabotaging myself. I think maybe I like feeling like I'm a victim. I can't really think too hard about it right now because I'm sure it has something to do with me not wanting to take full responsibility for who I am and what I am feeling and I know that's not what I should be doing so if I stop thinking about it I can pretend I'm not at fault.

The thing I have to remember about exercising is that it's for me and me alone and it's something that no one forces me to do but myself and I only do that because I know that the benefits outweigh the negatives. On bad days, it clears my head and gives me focus. It brings me peace and gives me hope that I will find my way in this world at some point.

I think my journey is about finding my way--not because I am lost because I don't feel lost. I think my journey is finding a way of living inside a life that requires me to ask more of myself than I am sometimes willing to give, and finding gracious ways of doing that. I need to find a way to love the journey while I'm living it.

Watching The Hills makes all things better

I was reading Jane (I read all the time but rarely comment but I do love her blog)....anyway I was reading Jane's latest and something hit me. Yesterday I had a really bad day what with being ignored by the sports moms who know me but pretended they didn't know me until I shouted HELLO to them to make them say hello back to me (see post below).

What I realized was that I left out the most important thing that made me feel bad yesterday and it was my daughter!!! I've written before what a sore loser she is and thank God she doesn't lose too often or I'd need to be medicated to get through the dramatics. I was sitting with two of her friends who had come to watch her play. Well, my daughter comes off the court with her sourpuss face and bad attitude about the loss and since I know how she is, I didn't say anything. She started to talk to her friends and I heard her say something like, "Great, you come to see me the one time I lose," and I thought to myself, well, this isn't going to be good. So I said something about it being a good match regardless of the loss, which, of course, is never a good thing to say to her because it's only a good match if she wins. I need to remember that.

I thought I would diffuse the situation by offering to take a picture of her and her friends (I photograph the kids while they play during the season), and my daughter says, "UM...NO...look at my face. Do you really think I want to get my picture taken right now?" And she said it in a really loud, mean voice in front of her friends and all of the sudden I could just feel myself shrink because what I wanted to do was slap her face, but what I did was stand up and tell her I was going to find somewhere else to sit and to please remember her bag because I wasn't going to take it for her. Then I walked away and sat by myself and then those other moms ignored me and I think that is what sent me over the edge. Everyone was determined to hurt my feelings yesterday and they succeeded.

I don't have a cute ending to my story like Jane always does because while I had planned to rip into my daughter as soon as I could get her alone, by the time that happened, I had lost all my fight. I kept my distance from her when we returned home and wasn't overly talkative then she asked me to watch The Hills with her and I said ok. All was better. The end.

Invisible

I want to know what's so hard about saying hello. I should qualify that. I want to know what's so hard about being the first one to say hello to someone you know because there are so many women who will NOT say hello to me unless I say it first. What's the big fucking deal is what I want to know.

Today at my daughter's sporting event (yes, another sporting event rant) I knew a number of women from the opposing team from years ago when our girls all played together. I sat with those women for years and chatted with them but today, the bunch of them walked by me three times before I finally shouted out hello!!! and they were then forced to acknowledge me. I was tempted to not say anything but then I'd be just as bad as they are. I just don't get it. I don't get what the big fucking deal is in saying hello and being normal. Somebody fill me in, please.

Honestly, I don't like most women because they behave like this...like it's a big imposition to be kind. Most women sit down and what they do to you is they look you up and down and they mentally take in what you are wearing, or how well your makeup is applied, or what kind of purse you are carrying, and they do this in the hopes that they can feel superior to you in some way. I don't do this because I don't care about superficial crap like that. I gravitate towards men because of this. Men love me. Women? Not so much and I've never understood why. I think it's really sad that women say we should support each other but most of us are working overtime doing the exact opposite.

And while I'm ranting, what's the deal with people who can't at least try to pretend that they are interested in anything other than themselves? I ask them question after question and they never ask anything about me for fear the spotlight won't be on them for 2 minutes. I don't get why I even bother or care any more.

Sometimes I get to the end of the day and I just feel like crying. I think I'm just being oversensitive. The world is such a huge place and sometimes I feel so incredibly small-- like the earth could open and swallow me whole and no one would even notice I'm gone.

When it feels like my dreams are so far, sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again

I'm on the lookout for hope. I look for it every morning when I wake up. I look for it when I am working out. I look for it when I am driving down the same road for the fiftieth time and I am bored out of my mind with the mediocrity of my life. I look for it in flowers and cherry trees. I look for it when I feel defeated. I look for it in the eyes of children. I look for it in words that break my heart. I look for it in sunrises. I look for it inside fortune cookies. I look for it in phone calls from people I am too far away to see regularly anymore. I look for it in songs that stick in my head and play over and over. I look for it in heads up pennies I find on the ground.

I think if I have hope then I can do anything, live through anything, and so that is why I am always on the lookout for it.

My secret is that hope keeps me going.

I try to find hope everywhere.

Scandalous.

Ok, we received a certified letter from our homeowners association because we....GET READY FOR THIS ONE...have screens in the front windows of our house and it's a violation of the covenants. If we don't take them down they will start fining us. LMFAO.

You should see our house. It's immaculate. There's nothing out of place, the yard is impeccably groomed, it's been freshly painted, our shrubs are beautiful. Our driveway is without grease stains of any sort. The cars we have in the driveway are all brand new so we don't look like a used car lot. The trim has been freshly painted. Our windows are spotless from my husband washing them (he loves washing windows, don't ask me why). We don't have mold growing on the side of our house from moisture like a number of homes in this subdivision. We have real flowers in a pot in the front of the house. In other words, our home is what other homes should aspire to look like. I'm not being conceited, just honest. We pride ourselves in having a nice, clean home inside and out.

I walk the neighborhood daily and here are some of the things I see that are REAL eyesores: Cars in driveways jacked up for weeks on end that I suppose are being worked on. Mold and mildew on the siding of homes that look like someone has thrown dirt all over the house. Lawns that haven't been mowed in MONTHS. Excess yard ornaments like gnomes, penguins in lounges and whatnot that, in my humble opinion, are ridiculous and if you insist on that type of thing than ONE is more than enough because five gnomes and brightly colored mushrooms and ceramic angels up the wazoo are just too much. Fake flowers in flower pots (a major no-no in my book). Four junker cars squished into the driveway. Four sets of chimes clanking away on the front porch (one is plenty). Shutters missing from windows for months and months. Stones instead of mulch which I hate unless you live in Florida. Couches on the front porch (real couches, not outdoor furniture). Satellite dishes on the front of the house that look completely tacky.

I could go on but I'll stop because I'm sure you see my point which is that the homeowners association has enough REAL violations to contend with without busting our chops for SCREENS on the front windows of our house. This is the type of insanity that makes me want to climb out on the top of the roof and shout obscenities until I lose my voice because the world really is fucking nuts.

I don't know of anyone who wants to open a window without a screen in it because BUGS COME INTO THE HOUSE THAT WAY. I really do not understand the problem with screens. There are about two months out of the year that we can actually open our windows and these fools want me to give that up because apparently screens are ugly and against the rules.

So there you have it. We're big, bad rule breakers for having screens in the front windows of our house and it's so offensive that they spent the time, energy and money sending us a certified letter telling us to remove them immediately OR ELSE.

All I can think to say is BITE ME, BITE ME, BITE ME...while I remove the screens because I don't want to be fined $25/day just because I want a little fresh air in the house.

How ridiculously selfish of me.

And I lie to myself, and say it was for the best

Do you keep a list of things that you have never done, or never experienced? And if you keep a list of things that you know you will never be able to have or experience, then how do you ever get past the feeling of loss that lives beneath the surface? How do you stop wanting things you know you will never have?

I keep a list. It isn't long, and mostly I don't drag it out to remind myself because I believe that being positive helps promote hope and joy in a world that sometimes feels as though all it wants to do is drag me down. These are things that I know I cannot go back in time to reclaim and so they are forever lost to me. It can be argued that these losses were the direct result of my own choices and/or mistakes, but that doesn't make them feel any less painful. When you know you are to blame, then how do you stop blaming yourself? How do you learn to forgive and forget?

There are many people who will tell you that they have no regrets in their lives, that the successes and failures accumulated along the way have made them what they are today and for the most part, I can buy into all that. What I cannot tell you is that I do not have regrets because I do. I sometimes wish I could go back and have a redo. I don't live in the past, but I do look back and think I would do certain things differently if I had the chance. I am always wanting more chances.

What I want to know is how to let go of the losses that I seem destined to mourn forever, particularly when I am taking inventory of my life and feeling as though I will never get things right. How do I find peace like a star-filled sky? How do I feel a quiet peace inside of me?

Maybe the answer is that there is no answer, and that life is meant to be just what it is at this very moment. I keep thinking that I will wake up some day and know everything there is to know, but I don't.

I wake up and start again. I keep with me the experiences that led me to this place. I remember the things I wish I did differently or not at all. I write a list of things I will never have or never do and I fold it up and hide it because I am big on hiding things that feel hard. I tell myself that I am over learning things the hard way.

I can't go back so I move on.

Destination? Anywhere but here

I didn't want this to become a blog where all I do is bitch and moan but I can't help it, I need somewhere to vent or I might go crazy.

Oldest daughter did a tiny load of laundry today and I've spent the rest of the afternoon trying to undo the damage. First off, yesterday I had washed one of those really fluffy/fleecy Hello Kitty blankets and threw it in the dryer. It's one of those blankets where you dry it and your lint screen will be filled to overflowing just from one drying cycle. I had left that in the dryer and did another small load of darks and left them in the washing machine not thinking anything about it. Well, oldest daughter transfers all the dark clothes into the dryer without taking the Hello Kitty fleece blanket out and now all the darks are completely filled with all sorts of pink and white fluffs. I see that and have a minor fit but think, ok, I can deal with that. I'll just keep washing the stuff till it disappears. I set that whole mess aside and decide to just dry her stuff that's she's left in the washing machine. I transfer it all to the dryer and put another load of whites in to wash and walk away. About an hour later I go back to the machines and open the dryer and find that a black pen has exploded inside my dryer. All of her clothes have black ink all over them. All I can think is that she must have had a pen in with her wash and I transferred it when I put it in the dryer because none of our clothes are inked up and all I did was transfer the stuff from the washer to the dryer with no steps in between. So now I have a new dryer with all ink inside it and all her clothes with ink all over them too. Luckily the stuff she washed was mostly dark and stuff she wears to bed so I'm just not sweating that one at all. I refuse to feel bad about her things being ruined when her carelessness resulted in my dryer looking like someone had a paint party inside it.

You know, I have gotten really good at never getting attached to any material things because the minute I start feeling like I really value something material, it gets lost, broken, stolen or ruined. This is the story of my life. I take the losses or the breaks with ease because I know stuff is replaceable and that people are not, however, I am waiting for the time when I can have something of value and not have to watch someone else ruin it before I get the chance to ruin it myself if that's what the fates desire, and that has not happened so far. It's always them ruining my things and I'm getting sick of it. I have to always be the adult and take a deep breath and remember what's really important in life and I do all that while underneath it all I am simmering and getting ready to explode.

Hence, this blog.

Moving along. Yesterday I knew it would be a long day since my daughter had a sporting event. I hate when my husband is in town during these times because I can't just pack up and leave and enjoy myself knowing that he's at home waiting for me to FEED HIM. So I got up yesterday and made a meatloaf and mashed potatoes and some vegetables so that I wouldn't have to walk in the door at 8 PM (having been gone since 2 PM) and have to make something to eat. I don't like getting takeout during the week because my children are athletes and I think that it's better for them to have something home cooked rather than fast food. I had everything made and put in the refrigerator and it only needed to be heated up. How simple is that? Well, apparently not simple enough.

I come in the door last night at a little before 8 and I go to the refrigerator to heat plates up for me and my daughter and I noticed that none of the food is missing. I find this quite strange since my husband was home all day and he is typically a garbage disposal on two feet. I yelled to him, "Um...why haven't you eaten yet?" And his reply? "I was waiting for you to come home." Come again?

You really do not want to be around me when I am hungry and angry, let's start with that. I specifically told him when I left that he was to FEED HIMSELF because I knew I would not be in any mood for dealing with his chauvinistic ass at the end of a long day, but did he listen to me? No. I start going off because I am not nice when I am pushed and he has the nerve to tell me that the reason he didn't eat before I walked in the door was that "he wasn't hungry." But the minute I walked through the door, his hunger kicked in, and REALLY? OMG, sometimes I swear to you that if felt I could get away with it, I would grab my purse, get into my car, board the nearest plane and leave to anywhere but here.

Needless to say he ended up fixing his own plate so he's deceitfulness did not work on me like he had planned, but just so you know? This is how it works around here. They are working overtime to drive me crazy and sometimes I think they are actually winning.

Tonight I get a call from the husband because he did go out of town and he slips into the conversation that he's thinking about funding a little escapade this summer for our son who goes to college out of state. Don't get me wrong, I love that kid to death but basically he is living a Disneyland life where we pay for everything and he takes a few classes and plays a sport. This trip is a week long adventure to the tune of $1500. I go ballistic because this sort of thing is not promoting our children growing up and out of the house anytime soon from my perspective and I really get pissed when he doesn't mind dropping that kind of money on a week long funfest but has a fit if he sees that I've bought a People Magazine. I told him to just stop the conversation right there because I don't want to know about it. As far as I am concerned his college existence is a sort of vacation as he is on his own with no one to answer to and we pay for everything. I do not think it is necessary to fund more Disney experiences when the kid is in his 20's. Call me a bitch or a killjoy, I don't care. It's how I feel and I need to say it somewhere so I will say it here.

I know tomorrow I will probably be over all this but right now I just really, really want to run away from all of them.

I know where I would go, too but I'm not putting it in writing in case I do leave and they find this,

The big to-do over chicken tenders

Maybe it will become a weekly thing that I write about annoying people at sports matches.

This week I got in big trouble because my daughter had invited three of her friends to come watch her play and they, !!!GASP!!!, ate too many chicken tenders. At these sporting events, there is plenty of food because the kids go directly from school to the games and we want to make sure that there is something for them to eat since we sometimes end up being out from about 3 PM until 7 or 8 PM. Let me just preface this whole thing by saying that my daughter rarely eats anything that is brought for the teams. She doesn't like eating beforehand because she feels sick when she plays and afterwards she just wants to wait until we get home and eat what I've prepared for dinner. So most times, even though we have paid for the food, she doesn't partake in any of it which means SOMEBODY eats her portion and never once have we had a cow over her not getting her food allotment (the whole thing sounds so ridiculous when I am typing it out, but trust me, food is serious business here at the games--it's almost more important than the game itself which tells you all you need to know about what I am dealing with here).

Well....I signed up to bring sweets this week and I had made cupcakes and cookies and when my daughter's friends showed up I told them to make sure they went up to the food table to get some of the snacks that I made. Unbeknownst to me, the three of them grab plates and fill them with chicken tenders and tator tots and went off to watch my daughter play. So far so good.

After my daughter finishes, the four of them head back to the table and my daughter gets a plate and takes some chicken tenders and two of her friends grab plates and fill their plates with chicken tenders as well. They march off happily munching away. Not a minute later one of the mothers comes up to me and says, "I don't know how you want to deal with this but those chicken tenders are for the players only and the players only get 2 chicken tenders a piece(there was NO sign telling anyone that there was a limit on the chicken tenders so I call bullshit on that one), and your daughter's friends are eating a SECOND plateful of food."

I think I rolled my eyes but I'm not certain because it seemed like a moment deserving a major eye roll. I replied, "Oh sorry, I didn't realize this was their second time up there but what would you like for me to do about it now...I mean, they already have the food and are sitting down and eating." She says, "Oh, nothing, nothing, I hate being a food Nazi but I just wanted you to know that they are taking the food meant for the players."

Oh, spare me! If there's one thing I can't stand it's a perennially tanned, passive aggressive, bleached blond haired food Nazi denying she's a food Nazi. I saw the huge trays of chicken tenders and no way did my daughter's friends take anything away from the players. I then made it a point to tell her that my daughter typically never eats any of the food so I don't really see why the one time she eats and her friends have a few, there's a major to-do over it. She reiterated that she wasn't being a food Nazi but I call bullshit on that as well since if it wasn't bothering her she just would have shut up and not come up to me in the first place.

This is just the type of thing that people like her LOVE to have happen so that she can gossip about how so-and-so's friends hogged all the chicken tenders with all the other food Nazi moms who apparently stand guard over the food like we've got national security on the line. I'm sure emails were flying amongst them as well because this is the petty stuff these people live for.

In the grand scheme of things, I simply will never understand this type of behavior. When she goes to bed at night does she feel good about being so spiteful and silly? Sadly I think she does. She's the type who volunteers not because she wants to but because she needs something to feel superior about and she never lets anyone forget how much time she's putting in, how much work she's done etc.

I really have had it up to my eyeballs with ridiculous people.

Parents behaving badly

The other night I was at a sporting event and witnessed a parent behaving very badly after her child lost. What made me sad was that I am friendly with this woman and she knew that I was clearly within listening distance of her tirade. She knew I was sitting in my car because it was cold and windy outside and she was parked right beside me. She had gone back and forth to her car several times and we had talked. When her child walked to their car after the game to unload some equipment, the mother started in on her child. The negativity and shaming that went on was almost too much to bear. I slouched down in my seat at one point because I didn't want her child to see me and know that I was witnessing the severe tongue lashing. All I can say is OMFG. No one should have to hear such terrible things about themselves, especially a child (teen). I don't know what possessed this woman to say the things she was saying or why she would think that being treated in that manner would help in any way.

It has always been my experience that children respond better to kindness than to anger and negativity. I also believe that we all know when we have not lived up to our potential and that we do not need someone else pointing it out for us. It's like calling a fat person fat as though they have never considered it before. They already know they are fat. They live and breath and anguish over their fatness probably more than any of us can imagine so telling them they are fat isn't helpful in the least. Likewise, when we fail at things, or we lose, we usually know the reasons why. Telling someone they might just as well stop playing a sport because they have an off night seems cruel to me. It sends the message that perfection is expected at all times or else there will be hell to pay. Who can ever live up to that? No one that I know.

Some other things that were said (yelled): That the team was depending on this child for a win and she had let them all down (OMG). That if the child thought the mother was going to waste more money on lessons then the child had another thing coming. That the child was an embarrassment out there. It went on and on.

Sigh. I felt so guilty just sitting there doing nothing to come to the aid of this child but I didn't see how interfering would help since the mother was quite unhinged at that point. She knew I was there and she still verbally bashed her child. It seems a little sick to me that I would have preferred she do it somewhere privately, but that's what I was thinking. I was also thinking that I needed to ask someone to slap me silly should they ever see me treating my own children this way

I think it's bad enough to have your parent berate you in such a manner but to then not care that you are humiliating your child in front of others seems beyond mean to me. It makes me wonder what this woman does behind closed doors if she is so free and easy with the abusive language in public. This woman sits with little index cards at the games and keeps count of mistakes that are made by her child and when her child is done playing, she hands her the card and immediately starts talking about all the mistakes that her child made. Even if she wins, the index cards are all marked up with mistakes that took place on her way to winning! I kid you not. If I happen to be sitting next to her when she does this I always make sure to compliment the good things I have seen because that's all I seem to know what to do. I want her to know that not everyone looks at her and thinks she's a failure. I don't want her to think we are all counting the mistakes she has made so that we can shove them in her face afterwards. I am totally the opposite type of parent. I think the world is cruel enough without also having to deal with parents who make you feel less than everyone else.

I don't know. Sometimes people make me feel so weary. If we could only see how we appear to others when we're making complete buffoons of ourselves perhaps we'd try a little harder to exert a little self control. I think too many parents see their children lose and take the loss on as their own and that's when the real trouble begins. I know this because I have had to fight this feeling myself sometimes. I've had to tell myself that I am not helping my children when I am projecting my insecurities onto them. I am not my child. My child is not me. Losing a game is not the end of the world and I just don't understand why some parents act as though it is. I think negativity begets negativity. I think parents should lift their children up and not tear them down but that's just me.

Loved

Ok, real quick because I have to watch Survivor....Tammy wrote about bad Valentine's Day presents.

How about this?

A post-it note with a heart drawn in the center that says BE MINE.

That's what I got.

I feel LOVED.

Heat

I've just about had it with the heat wars in this house. All day long I keep the thermostat either off or on 66 degrees in the winter. If I am alone, this doesn't bother me one bit since I'm generally moving around and so I don't get cold. At night, I like the heat on either 65 or 66 degrees and not one degree higher because I wake up and I am covered in sweat and I hate that. My husband is the biggest baby on the face of the earth. He came down with a "sickness" earlier in the week which means that all he does is whine about how sick he is. I've been putting up with this shit since Saturday---tiptoeing around and getting him drinks and soup and whatnot all the while spraying Lysol around because if I get sick I get exactly 3 hours to GET OVER IT AND FEEL BETTER.

Anyway, just a little bit ago, he asks for a drink and I get him water then he says he wants orange juice so I go and get him a glass of THAT. I leave the room and the next thing I know, we're hearing a string of obscenities because he's somehow dropped the orange juice all over the carpet. I go in to try to help him and do you know what he does? He starts screaming that he's so fucking sick of living in a house that is never warm and that I AM THE REASON HE IS SICK BECAUSE I INSIST ON KEEPING THE HEAT LOW. Yep. Honestly, if you gave him a moment, he'd blame the Iraq war on me as well because apparently I am the reason for anything bad that ever happens ANYWHERE.

After being disrespectful to me, yelling, and blaming me for his illness due to the fact that I keep the thermostat too low, he starts using his nice voice to try to get me to clean up the orange juice on the carpet!!! Not so fast, sick boy. I told him that I was planning on helping him clean it up but since he went into his little unnecessary tirade, that he could clean it up himself. He said he didn't want to breathe in the fumes. Well, either do I, sick boy. I then went to the thermostat and jacked the heat up to 85 and I am currently sweating bullets but if he wants a hot house, he's getting a hot house.

It's all about the drama

"Family quarrels have a total bitterness unmatched by others. Yet it sometimes happens that they also have a kind of tang, a pleasantness beneath the unpleasantness, based on the tacit understanding that this is not for keeps; that any limb you climb out on will still be there later for you to climb back." ~Mignon McLaughlin

Tensions have been high this week between oldest daughter and her father. I'm just going to put it out there that we are a family who cannot seem to have a discussion without it descending into a shouting-fest of some sort. It's disheartening and discouraging to know that nothing of importance can be discussed rationally here. I think I've been living this way for so long that I would spontaneously combust if we started acting like normal people for even 5 seconds.

So the other night I get three quick pings to my phone alerting me that I have some new text messages. It's my oldest daughter letting me know where she is and then she proceeds to leave this gem, "...and please tell Dad to stop calling me because I have nothing to say to him..."

I am, above all things, a very patient person. You can push me and push me and push me but I will remain calm in the presence of all this pushing. I will be giving the benefit of the doubt during the initial pushing and even when I'm up against the wall from the pushing, I will do my best and try to see things from the perspective of the person doing the pushing, knowing full well that they will not afford me the same courtesy unless I scream that no one ever looks at things from my point of view and then, begrudgingly, they might take a peek but not with any seriousness, not with anything that tells me that they value my point of view at all. I may be patient, but I am not stupid.

About six months ago, I read about the "Drama Triangle." Reading that article felt like I was finally seeing in print how my life is being played out. The drama triangle consists of a victim, a persecutor and a rescuer. We tend to rotate through these roles during our lives but I think that mostly, I am a rescuer and certainly, in my role in this family of mine, (husband, wife, 3 children) I am always the rescuer because I get dragged into it by the victim and the persecutor (which probably makes me a victim but for purposes of this post, I will maintain that I am the rescuer).

Here's how things work in my family. Daughter and/or son have problems with father because father is rigid and opinionated and loud and forceful (in a loving way). They start arguing and before I know what has hit me, I get dragged into their battles even when I don't belong there. Son or daughter will give me messages to give to their father and father will do the same thing. I never win in this position, not that I am looking to win anything. All I know is that I never feel anything but bad when I allow myself to be dragged into the triangle. If I side with my husband because I agree with his position, then I am the good wife but the bad mother. If I side with my children because I believe they are in the right, I get told I am being disloyal and I am asked to "just go along" even when my heart is telling me that going along is the wrong thing to do.

I spend a great deal of time being the middle man here. At least once a week this drama triangle plays out. Father will see daughter's messy room and tell me, "You need to sit her down and talk with her about her sloppiness." I'll reply, "Why can't you tell her this?" and he will say, "Because I'll lose my temper and things will get ugly." So the threat is made that a potential storm will erupt if I do not step in and tell our daughter what HE wants to tell her. To spare us all (rescuer that I am), I step in and deliver the message then I get to bear the brunt of our daughter's scorn for being asked to clean up her messy room that I didn't care about in the first place. This is a trivial example but I'm trying to prove a point. I wasn't concerned about her messy room, HE WAS, and yet I had to take his fight on as my own. I end up feeling resentful towards both of them. I crave peace and so I tell myself that my resentment is a small price to pay for that peace, but lately, I am not so sure.

I keep trying to break this dysfunctional cycle but mostly, I fail because disengaging from the drama triangle means that I am left to deal with all those uncomfortable feelings I'd rather just ignore. I have to prepare for everyone being angry with me and I am a people pleaser of the highest order. I have to be prepared to hear things about myself that are probably untrue. but are said to me as a way to get me to join the triangle.

When my daughter text messaged me to relay a message to her father, I had had enough of all their bullshit and so I replied, "I am not your messenger girl. Tell him yourself."

Guess what happened? He called her until she picked up her phone and they talked. Surprisingly, the world did not end.

I need to remember this...that they do not need me to rescue them even when they are begging me to do just that...that I do not need to rescue others to feel that I am important or loved in this family...that refusing to be manipulated by the people I love is letting them know that I deserve better, and more.

Seventeen

In seventeen years, she has aged seventeen years, while, I, her mother, haven't aged a day (curious, I know!). There hasn't been a day in seventeen years that I have not loved her. She came into my life when I needed her most, and so I think of her as my very own earth angel. She came after I already had a girl and a boy, and after I had learned the very painful lesson that to wish for anything other than perfect health in a child is foolish and reckless and selfish and wrong. My wish came true with her because she was born in perfect health, and the instant I saw her face, for the first time in 5 1/2 years, I felt safe in this world again.

To say that she is amazing is not enough. To say that she changed my life and filled my heart with the most awesome love is saying only part of what she means to me. I have always dreaded the time she would grow away from me but as it draws nearer, I'm less fearful because I'm finding that what I'm focusing on now is watching how she takes on this world because, trust me, you will not forget her. She is going to do great things. I love just watching her

She is
serious,
complex,
organized,
straight-forward,
hard-working,
relentless,
self-motivated,
goal driven,
wise beyond her years,
secure,
talented,
strong,
tall,
beautiful,
intense,
complicated.
real

...and then sometimes, there are moments when she forgets that she is carrying the world around on her shoulders...and she heart-attack-laughs with me like a crazy person. I love those times. I carry them with me always.

In all of this world, I loved her first.

I loved her first.

Little white lies are still lies

All my life I have struggled with telling the truth. This is not something I am proud to put into writing. I remember the first time I got caught telling big lies. I was attending a Catholic school, in the fourth grade, and when we got graded tests back, we were to bring them home and have them signed by our parents. I can't remember the subject, (I'm leaning towards it being History) but anyway, I failed a number of tests and I could not bear the thought of having to bring those failing grades home and having to face the disappointment of my parents and so I did the next best thing and forged their signatures.

I don't know what possessed me to do this or think I could get away with it, but I suppose at the time, I thought I was clever enough to outsmart everyone. I got away with the forgery until my report card came home and there was a big fat D glaring out at all of us and my parents wanted to know why they hadn't been informed. It all came out then, the forged signatures (and I remember practicing writing my mother's name so I was pretty calculated in my deception), and my terrible lies. I know my parents were tremendously angry with me for a very long time and I also know that I continued to justify my behavior to myself by saying I did it to spare THEM. I am older now and I know without question that I did it to spare ME.

I would like to say that this little incident was a light bulb moment for me and that I never again told another lie but that would be untrue. I have continued to skirt around issues and tell little white lies when I have felt cornered and when I have felt that it would be to my advantage to omit the truth. I've tried to figure out why it is that I choose to tell lies instead of the truth. I think it has to do with not wanting to deal with people being angry with me. I think I believe in my deepest of hearts that there are some people who do not really want to hear the truth if it's not what they want to hear and so I tell them what I think they want to hear instead of what is real.

My husband hates it when I carry around a lot of cash so he will ask me how much cash I have on me and even though I know I have $100 on me, I will tell him $40 because I know that he won't start in on a lecture. I know that $40 will be an acceptable amount according to his estimations and so that's the number I give him. I tell myself we can both feel good this way--he can feel like I'm not carrying a lot of cash and I get spared the tirade I'm not in the mood to listen to anyway. It's a win-win in my eyes even though I know that at the core of it all I am not being honest. It's not that he would begrudge me spending that money anyway. It's just that he thinks it's stupid to carry cash and I don't happen to feel that way. I could give you a truckload of ways I am dishonest like this. The lies slip out easier than you would imagine.

I try hard not to lie about big things but that's such a subjective statement. Who am I to qualify lies, to measure them out and say which ones are acceptable and which ones are not, which ones are little and which ones are big? There are probably people who are horrified that I lie about the cash I carry while I go around telling myself it's no big deal. I also give myself points for fessing up if I get caught in lies. I'm not afraid to admit that I've lied if I've been caught or if I feel too guilty and rat myself out. At night I ask to be forgiven for those things and I also ask for help in being a better person because I think each day is a new chance for me to start with a clean slate and that makes me feel hopeful about maybe being able to actually achieve that goal some day.