reality

aaaaah, I haven't been here in a awhile.  Not for lack of topics, just lack of time.  Now that the holidays are here, I guess you might say reality is rearing its ugly head.

Since my life has slowed down a wee bit, it has given my mind time to wander. And rehash what is the focus of this blog. The past couple days have been extremely hard and emotional for me. Wondering if my mother thinks about me at all....did I really hurt her feelings....should I send gifts.....arghhhhh...what the heck do I do?

I was all set to pick up some of her favorite chocolate and send it down from the DD's. In fact I did go out to buy it today. But because it is so late in the season, they were sold out. But I did pick up a pound of dark chocolate, which is her favorite. Then I planned on picking up a couple gift cards and sending them down for her and my dad.

I am late on everything this year. I am not just late in sending them anything. Heck, I haven't even sent out cards yet. Anyway, a package was delivered today from my mother to DH. And it was very clearly marked. He opened it.....there were several gifts marked to him, one to DD1 and one to DD2. And that was it. He said if there was nothing in there for me, he was sending it back.

I cannot begin to say how much this hurt me. I guess I am still expecting too much from my mother. In my heart I know she will never forgive me, but I still keep hoping. And each time I get my hopes up, of course they are slammed down to the ground. I should know better. And I don't even know if I want forgiveness. I think maybe I just want acknowledgment that I have feelings too, and she is NOT the perfect person she pretends to be.

That through me for a loop today and now I don't know what to do. Should I let DH send everything back? Should I give the girls their gifts, and let DH send his back? Should I send them anything? Should I send a box to my dad with his name only on it?

I feel so unwanted I could just burst into tears this very minute. It's not fair. I want a mother who loves me. And to think the other day I thought it was all my fault and maybe I should just call and give in. The hell with that idea.

hmmmmm

Barack Obama is bi-racial.  What if.....what if he would have been born with fair skin?  Would the african-american community still have embraced him?  Would the media still have a love affair with him?  Would he still be hailed as the great hope and the second coming?

I try hard not to be prejudiced. I will base my opinion on him on his accomplishments and not his skin color. But I wonder, if he had been born with fair skin, would he have gotten to where he is now?

And while I'm at it, even if he would have lost the election, it would have been history making. We would have had a woman vice president. But she was caucasian and McCain was old, so I guess they just don't fit the image.

Okay, I am done with my political rant now. Here's hoping the next four years go as well as he promised. I'll be saying a lot of prayers.

dad

My dad came to visit a couple weeks ago.  Out of the blue he said I should think about "patching things up" with my mother.  I was so shocked he brought this up. I was speechless.  Really.  I didn't say a word.

He said it weighs heavy on her mind (yeah right) and he knows it probably weighs heavy on mine too. He said just to think about it, and that was that.

I thought about it for the next few days. It really upset me. More than I thought it would. I was back to feeling guilty for having feelings and saying them out loud again. I was feeling guilty for not saying what my mother likes/wants to hear. I was feeling guilty for not making nice, because I am the child and she is the parent.

I'm not feeling so guilty anymore. No, I haven't made nice. And I don't plan to. I am allowed to have thoughts and feelings that don't agree with hers. That don't fit into her little perfect world.

And if it weighs so heavy on her mind, why the heck hasn't she called me? It would be just as easy for me to call her, but everyone over the years bends to her will. It's just easier to have her happy than not, but I am tired of it. The rest of us deserve to be happy too. So I am standing my ground (at least for now).

But then that brings up another issue. I am acting like her. Being stubborn and holding a grudge. I don't like that. It is not me....but making nice with her in the past never really changed things. It just let her get her way. I guess maybe if I mirror her, she'll see what it's like and maybe.....just maybe, change? I can hope. But I won't hold my breath.

shy

I've always loved to write.  Writing was always easier for me than speaking.  I could be so much more eloquent in what I said. 

For a while when I was young, I imagined myself becoming a famous writer. I started countless "novels". But alas, never finished a one. *sigh* I wrote quite a bit of prose too.....some if it I know was better than fair. I wonder if I still have it somewhere. Might be interesting to dig out and read.

Anyway, I wrote more than I talked because I was the "shy" child. I remember being introduced to everyone when I was small as "shy". So, I am just wondering, are you born shy? Or is it something you are conditioned to? Or is it a way of surviving? Hmmmm, what do you think? (if anyone is out there : )

surprise

I've had several things I wanted to post here, but I keep running out of time.  Or I just keep forgetting.  Which one to start with?  Maybe something happy...ha.

Last night we went to a surprise party for my aunt.  A bunch of us crowded into a tiny restaurant and waited for her to arrive.  She did,  and was properly surprised.

It was crowded (big family and lots of friends in a teeny tiny restaurant) and it was hot, but it was fun! This side of my family is so much fun. There is so much love when they all get together. Everyone is happy to see everyone else and it is just a good time. And normal. It is just so normal. I am so glad we went.

So there mother dear....they are not weird, or strange. They are one big happy, normal, family. I'm so sorry you didn't see that when we were young. It could have been fun...

sos

Same Old Shit.

Youngest DD and I went to see oldest DD at school yesterday.  I sure miss her. *sigh*  But she looks good, and happy, although awfully tired. In a couple weeks, the school's marching band is going to Disney in Florida. I so wish I could go and watch her, but I just can't take off that time of year.

Anyway, my mother told oldest DD that she would come and see her there. Great. Really. At the very least, maybe my "fight" with my mother has opened her eyes to what she is missing with her grandkids. I can hope, can't I? Oh wait, that's the expectation thing again. Ugh. I should know better.

Oldest told me that MOB (mean old bitch. my new name for her. Not oldest's.) sent her and email and told her that she couldn't make it because my dad gave her the wrong dates, and she already has plans for those days. Well, that's all well and good, but why does she have to blame it on my dad? Since when can't she pick up the phone and call and find out the exact days from oldest DD herself? Apparently she made a big deal of it NOT being her fault, because that's what oldest repeated over and over to me. Not that oldest DD expected to see her anyway....

Why does it always have to be someone else's fault? Like she is miss perfect and never does anything wrong unless someone gives her the wrong information. Yeah, whatever. But apparently this is really bugging me. I just can't believe her......she's done this for so long, that she has to realize we all know it is part of her game plan. Honestly, she would probably make a great politician, because she can pass the buck like no other.

Back to me now....it is my blog after all. How do I let all this go? I'll be good one day, and then the next it all comes back and I want to cry. I have to find a way to accept it, get over it, and move on, because I don't want to live like this. With MOB controlling my emotions by proxy. I can ignore my feelings for so long, then they pop back up and those "am I crazy?" thoughts start haunting me again. Is something wrong with me? Why does this bother me so much?

(I AM a good person. I AM a good mom. I am NOT my mother. I AM a good person. I AM a good mom. I am NOT my mother.)

frown

After I started this blog, I thought I would be creative and take some kind of anonymous picture for my profile pic. I've seen so many cool ones out there, I thought I could come up with something. I guess if you look, you can see my feet. It's okay.

But it was not my first choice. I wanted to take a picture of my hand on the track ball or both my hands on the keyboard. Well, trying to take a picture with no hands on the camera, and the camera set on timer with it tucked under my chin....well, it just didn't work too well.

So then I tried taking a picture of my hand on the trackball. And that picture was okay, except for my hand.

I've never had particularly pretty hands. I have big palms and short, stubby fingers. If I ever let my nails grow, I guess my fingers would look longer. Anyway, my hand looked




(taking a deep breath here)





old.






I was shocked and dismayed. When did they get old? My poor hands have aged without me realizing it. Well used and wrinkled is how they look now. I never paid much attention to the commercials for aging hands, I didn't think it would happen to me. Of course, I never thought becoming middle aged would ever happen to me either. And yet, here I am.

today

Today I had a heart to heart with my Aunt.  That would be my dad's brother's wife.  She was my savior and confidante when I was a teenager, and I thought I would update her on my family situation. She's been on the outs with my mother for years, so I knew she would get it.

And she did. One thing she told me was that maybe I was expecting too much of my mother. And my mother could not meet my expectations. I only want a normal mother, and grandmother, but she can't be that. And then when she doesn't live up to what I want, I get hurt.

My aunt said not to expect so much, and I won't get hurt. Not that any of it is my fault, but to be happy, I shouldn't set myself up for disappointment. Does that make sense? It did when she told me. But now I am tired and I can't seem to type these thoughts. So, expect nothing, and you can't be disappointed, and anything that may happen could be good....or something like that.

I emailed her this evening and told her I started this blog. Which no one has the link to. I did not send her a link. She answered back (and I quote) "Promise me you won't tell ANYONE your other blog. I'll tell you more the next time I talk to you on the phone...................you are a wonderful person................perhaps too trusting............................be careful."

Now I am nervous. What the heck did she mean by that? What kind of trouble have I gotten myself into now? Don't worry, I'll let you know when I know.  Argh.  Maybe blogging isn't for me.

priorities

You know, this blog started when my mom read what I wrote on what I will call my "happy blog". At that moment in time, the post I published was not happy and ended up bitter. And of course, that's when I found out my mom read my blog.

And at that moment in time, I severed the relationship between me and my mom. Funny thing is/was....while I was upset about her reading my innermost thoughts (that I posted on the internet for the whole world to read) and knowing the consequences would be severe and last an eternity (I kid not), I was more upset that I may have lost my blog. I cried because my online journal was no longer my private place.

And that made me chuckle, because, really, how private is a blog? You write about your innermost thoughts and feelings, you click on publish and voila! There it is, for the world to read. Who knows who will stumble upon it? How do you know who reads it regularly?

And so there I was, on one of the most emotional days of my life....more worried about losing my blog and my online friends, than I was about destroying the relationship with my mom. Are my priorities mixed up? Wonder where I learned that from....

vent

I'm tired.   I am so tired.  I keep going and going and going and no one seems to realize that I am busy, but I just keep going.  DH is on my nerves.  I can be up to my armpits washing dishes and he can be sitting on the couch watching tv and he will NOT get off his fat ass and let the dogs in or out.  He just tunes out their barking until it interferes with his tv, the he yells at them.

Just something simple like letting the dogs out would help me immensely. Or taking DD2 where she needs to go. Honestly, DH comes home at 3pm, eats EVERYTHING he can gets his hands on (forget that dinner is in 2 hours. I refuse to cook dinner at 3pm.) and then plops his fat ass on the couch and watches tv for hours. Or falls asleep on the couch with the tv blasting, and then has the nerve to yell if someone or some dog makes too much noise and wakes him up.

DH is generally a good person, but I cannot stand this about him. If he has a day off, he sleeps most of it away and then the other part he watches tv. Oh, and don't forget the bottomless beer bottle in there too.

And I'm sorry, but he is a pig. He eats anything and everything that isn't nailed down. Except dinner when it is ready at 5pm. DD2 and I usually eat dinner alone. And it annoys me to no end. And if dinner is ready at 6pm, well forget it. The Simpson's are on and he can't miss that. Ever.

I get that he works hard all day and comes home tired, but I work hard too. And just once I would like him to come home, not stuff his face and maybe, just maybe offer to help me with whatever I need help with. God, that would be a dream come true...and he wonders why I don't jump in bed with him every night.

Huh. Guess I needed to vent. LOL. We'll see if I feel better now.

dream

I had a dream last night.  I dreamt that my cell phone rang.  It was my mother calling me.  I didn't answer it.  I woke up in a panic thinking she really did call.  Wonder what the meaning of all that is???

wwjd

I'm a catholic. A practicing catholic. But probably not as catholic as I could be. But we go to church every sunday, I pray a lot and I try to be a good person. I try to teach my kids good values.

And so this whole incident with my mother has me wondering, "what would Jesus do?". I know that phrase is almost a cliche nowadays, but it still makes me think.

Would Jesus forgive yet again? And let things go back to how they were? Or after time and time again, would he give up and move on?

I wish I was better versed in the bible. Us catholics don't do much bible reading, but I seem to remember a sermon our priest gave about such a subject.

BUT, my middle aged memory can't remember the exact sermon and outcome. It seems to me that it went along the lines of eventually you quit banging your head against a brick wall. But I'll have to look into it, because I honestly can't remember clearly enough.

See my mother is the queen of grudges. I know she won't talk to me ever again. Unless I beg forgiveness and bend to her wishes. But I really want to stand up for myself this time. But does that make me holding a grudge against her? Because, that's the one thing I strive to do with my life....not be like my mother.

So that's my current dilemna and train of thought.... beg forgiveness and go back to how things have always been, or stand my ground and risk being like her. Honestly, I need to find a way to make my mind just let it all go. I can't run in circles like this all the time....it makes me crazy.

uncrazy

My SIL called me yesterday.  That would be my brother's wife.  Not one of DH's sisters.  I have 2 younger brothers.  We all grew up in the same house.

Anyway, she called to give me the latest update from my parents.  Well, first she asked if I had heard anything.  I laughed.  I doubt I'll ever hear from my mother again.

We got to talking, and it turns out her and my brother have been talking too. About growing up with my mother. And he remembers some of the things I remember. And he reminded me of things I had forgotten about.

See, lately I have been second guessing myself. Insecurity a friend called it. I guess. Maybe I should just say I'm sorry. Maybe I should make nice and let her have her way again. But, I am NOT crazy. These things did happen. Not just to me. But to my brothers too. They remember too.

And so that phone call was just what I needed, just when I needed it. It was funny, because DH and I had been talking about everything that same morning. And we hadn't talked about any of it for a couple weeks. And then to have her call me too....well, that was just really perfect. It made my day.

I may be middle aged, but I am not losing all my memory and I am not crazy. Funny, my brother does the same thing every night that I do. I tuck DD2 into bed (used to be both, DD1 and DD2) and tell her I love her. Every night. He does the same with my nephew. Why is that significant? Because we never heard that when we were young.

present

I hate how my past still affects me. And I hate that my mom still has a certain amount of influence over my life. There must be a point, or age, when your life is you own and you can claim it and be proud of it.

It all started (well this unfortunate event anyway) when I posted a not so flattering post mentioning my mom on my now-happy-blog. And she read it. Of course. In the grand scheme of things, I should have seen that coming....that the planets were aligned for such an earth shattering moment. Really.

It was lack of judgment on my part, but I did not know she read my blog. I realize I probably sent her the link in the past....you know, to see pictures of what the kids are doing. But I didn't know she kept reading. It's kind of creepy when I think about it, because she never calls to talk and rarely sends an email. Yet she reads my blog. Ew.

So now I am here. Because I want a place I can be completely open and say what I want. See, she influenced me again. Because I am afraid I am going to say something else and she'll catch me. Sheesh. It sounds like I am sneaking behind her back.

Which I guess I am in a way. It's easier to stay out of her way, than it is to confront her. I look at all my relatives, and they ALL let and have let her get away with everything all her life. It wasn't that what I said on my blog wasn't true. Heck, the rest of us havebeen trying to figure out what the problem is forever.

It's just that I "said it out loud". Where she could "hear it". But we have all discussed my mother behind her back for years. She has a way of making you feel guilty if you don't do what she wants. I guess maybe that is passive-aggressive? I don't know the terminology. I just know for all my life it has been easier to do what she wants, than to deal with her later and do what I want.

Anyway, I wanted this to be a short post dealing with the present, and here I am on another rant. Apparently I have a lot of pent up hostility. Heh. I am on the famous (really, it is. in my family, anyway) proverbial Shit List. And I expect I will be there for the rest of my life. I just hope my kids aren't on it too, by way of association....

stupid

I was a good kid growing up. I wasn't perfect, but I was.not.bad. I didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't do drugs, didn't talk back....I got good grades, had a job and did what I was told.

I had a good friend who was also good. We were silly and teen agers and would write notes to each other about being drunk or high. We weren't. We didn't do that. We just wrote about it. We were just being goofy teenagers. I was too scared of my mother to do anything bad.

Didn't my nosey mother find them. Sometimes I was a stupid teenager and didn't get rid of things or hide them well. But then what right did my mother have to go snooping through my stuff? I was good. I gave her nothing to snoop about. But snoop she did anyway.

Anyway, she found these notes, assumed the worst, never asking me about them, called a "family meeting" (whatever that was. really, just a way to embarrass me in front of the whole family) and then told me I had to drop my friend. Or else. Or else she was going to send me to live in the city with my grandmother, because she didn't know how to deal with me.

There wasn't anything to deal with. I was a goody two shoes. I never did anything wrong. I just wrote about it.. And so it was just another instance in which I felt unwanted by my mother. She couldn't deal with me, so her answer was to send me away? It killed me. That I was such a problem that she didn't know what to do with me, so get rid of me. I didn't do anything!

So I dropped my friend so I could stay home. In retrospect, maybe I should have gone to live with my grandma. I know she loved me.

Yeah, there were some good times in there somewhere, but these times I felt my mother did not want me are the ones I remember the clearest. And they are the ones that have formed me into who I am today. Because I will NEVER let my kids think I don't want them. So I guess I can say thanks for that much.

Argh

Honestly, just when you think things are going good, something else comes up. I found out DD1 reads my blog. You know, the blog where I vent about what she is doing and how do I handle it.

I don't want to hurt her feelings or anything. And I guess I haven't because she is still talking to me. Unlike dear old mom, who will never talk to me again.

I WISH people I know would leave me comments so I KNOW they are reading my blog. Then I could say "hi" and not embarrass myself by saying what I truly feel.

And so, this blog may be my new venting place. Not what I had intended, really, but I need somewhere to go where nobody knows my name. Where I can speak my truth and not feel bad about it.

Now, do I have the guts to go out and comment in this persona? Do I want others reading and commenting? Now what?

Guilt

Lately I have been feeling guilty. Well, all my life I spent feeling guilty. How do you overcome a mom that says she just had kids so she could have slaves? I distinctly remember her saying that to a friend when I was little. It was a joke, she said. Some joke.

Or at Christmas when she told me I could go to the orphanage before Christmas and take all my toys and presents. Or I could wait until after Christmas, and take nothing. Oh yeah, another joke.

Why do I feel guilty? Because, to me, it seems I haven't been wanted all my life. And so I am guilty for being alive and a burden to my mom. Wow. I never put that all together before.

I know it's not my fault that I am here, and at my age I should be over it, but things still happen and I am thrown back to those days and I don't know how to escape them. I am going to try baby steps.

Relief

So this morning I called my dad. It wasn't so hard. I got his voice mail, which was fine, so I left a message. I knew then that he did not leave his phone with my mom, he just turned it off if he knew he wouldn't be able to answer it.

See, I was worried for nothing. Anyway, it was good to talk to him. He sounded good and was back to his handyman work around his plan. He likes to keep busy, so I know he was relieved to get back to work.

He'll be coming north soon, so we'll see how that goes. I know he'll be happy to us, no matter how he feels.

Fear

My mom and I had a recent falling out. I started it, and I suspect it is the end of our relationship. Forever. Yes, my mom is like that. I will never be forgiven. She will never talk to me again. And if she does, she will make sure that I know she did me a favor in talking to me. It's always been like that. I hate it.

My fear is in talking to her right now. The wounds are still fresh and I don't want to deal with her now. And apparently she doesn't want to deal with me either. The problem is I love my dad. And he is being treated for cancer.

I want to call and talk to him, but I am petrified my mom will answer his phone. His cell phone. Knowing how she went through my room, my car and my mail when I was younger, I would half expect to hear her voice answer his phone.

And so I haven't called him yet. Because I am afraid of her. I am 46 yo and still afraid of my mom. WTF? Why can't I get over this and live my own life? Why do I still let her run my life in this way?

I hate conflict and avoid it whenever I possibly can. I am a very easy going, live and let live type person. I believe time heals a lot of things, but I don't think it is going to heal the rift between my mom and me. So at some point I have to grow up and call my dad.

Just that simple act is so hard for me to do. And I know once I make the first call, and find out it will be okay, it will be easy from then on. It's just that first call. The nervousness of waiting to hear his voice and not my mom's.

Fear sucks. At what point are you old enough to not fear your parents? When is it your life, and yours alone? And not a life run by fear of someone else?

about

I am a middle aged mom who works too hard, too much and has too much baggage from the past to deal with. This blog is my attempt to put things in writing so I can deal with them and figure out what comes next. My past wasn't horrible, but some memories are and those are the ones that hold me back in life now.

You never know who is out there reading what you write. I found that out the hard way with my current blog. And so I started this one so I could air my thoughts, my personal secrets, anonymously, and in that respect, privately. If someone is going to read my diary, I'd rather not know them. Or have them know it's me.


So, this is kind of my secret place. My hidden journal. My not-so happy place. Things I won't say out in public. But I will anonymously on the internet. Oh yeah, ain't that a kick? Or I could build a whole new persona....new name and life and everything. But frankly, I don't have time for that.