Six Word Saturday (8/20/11)

First Week of School is Done

My kids made it through their first week (and so did I).  My daughter is a little spooked about the older kids at middle school but she has several old friends there with her.  I'm excited for her because orchestra is one of her classes (she plays violin) and her other elective is dance.  Yesterday she found out a new friend lives pretty close to our house and they can walk to school and back together.  I still have concerns about her getting teased but I'm trying not to worry until it actually happens.

My son is in his last year at elementary school, so he is one of the "big kids" on the bus.  I bought him five new outfits to wear for school, and this whole week he has insisted on wearing the same three pairs of nylon jogging pants that he wore ALL YEAR last year!  So my idea of having to do laundry only once a week came to a halt on Wednesday night when he needed the three pairs washed again.  The funny part is these three pairs of pants were hand-me-UPs from our neighbor kid who two years younger than my son.  I feel like asking his mom if I could trade five never-worn pairs of pants for more hand-me-ups, since my son apparently likes this kid's clothes better.  (I'm nervous about next month when I go home for my parents' 50th anniversary because who's going to wash his three pairs of pants mid-week while I'm gone?  Not my husband, oh heavens NO!  *mock faint*  Maybe my son could take them over to the neighbor kid's mom to wash!)

Six Word Saturday (8/13/11)

School is going to start soon

Monday is my kids' first day of school.  My youngest son will be in 5th grade, so this is the last year I'll have someone in elementary school.  My daughter will be in 6th grade, the first year of middle school.  My son I'm not too worried about because he's a happy funny little kid with lots of friends.  And I shouldn't be worried about my daughter either but I kind of am.  My husband discussed this with me yesterday so I do feel better about it, but all summer I've been dreading her going to 6th grade.  Sixth grade is when my life really started to suck, honestly.  That was the age when the kids in my school would start going to the mall with their friends, to movies, get-togethers, and the girls were boy-crazy and you were "nobody" if you didn't have a boyfriend.  I wasn't allowed to go anywhere except to church and two youth groups, but my parents refused to drive me so I'd have to find rides from people.  I just remember from 6th grade till I graduated from high school I spent a mind-boggling amount of time alone in my room and most of the time I wanted to die.  So it makes sense that I would be worrying about my daughter starting to have to deal with this.

My husband said that my daughter is a totally different person than me.  She has lots of friends (and she knows which of her friends will be going to the same middle school so she's not worried about being alone).  She is athletic, pretty, and outgoing.  Me and my husband are willing to take her places.  Her circumstances are different than mine were, so she should be just fine.

I'm thinking about posting this video on my Facebook on Monday for the start of school, but I'm not so scared for her anymore.

Going home

Just venting...  Next month I'm going back home for my parents' anniversary.  Although I'm excited about hopefully seeing some old friends, I'm nervous about seeing my family.  I'm missing how I had been able to shove all my feelings down for years and years, because ever since my hysterectomy and being in counseling so long, it feels like the band-aid's ripped off (which hid my ab) and every little thing hurts me. 

I can't even hope everyone will be nice to me.  My family shows love by "teasing," even though things they said would hurt me and then I'd get basically scolded for being sensitive.  I keep having these fantasies in my head where I finally have enough of their shit and say, "You know what, I'd just rather not see or speak to any of you again.  See you in Heaven."  The only reason it would shake them up is because they wouldn't have their dupe to make fun of anymore.

My paternal grandmother wasn't allowed to be around us kids when we were little because she was crazy.  My father only told us ONE good childhood memory of her, otherwise it was known that she was a horrible mother who couldn't get out of bed and take care of her house or kids, and my grandfather always put her in the hospital (mental) when he got sick of it.  She died when I was 12 and I got to see her in the hospital but I was too scared to hug her because she was portrayed as a monster my whole life.  And after she died my mother told us that she was screaming that she "killed the baby" and other crazy stuff during the last days in the hospital and my aunt (her daughter) disclosed that my grandma had an illegal ab after her 3rd child.  Now when I was 12, that made me hate her even more!!!  And I never even gave my grandmother a single thought till I went on the Rachel's Vineyard retreat and hearing everyone else's story made me think "even my grandmother could be here telling HER story" so I did forgive her right then and there.  But does anybody see how messed up it is that the very thing my father is angry and ashamed at his mother for is EXACTLY what they're doing to me?  I'm looked at like the crazy one now.

I wish my parents would admit that having me get an abortion was the wrong thing to do. I wish that they would say I'm a good mother and they misjudged me and I would have been a good mother to Claudia then too.  My mother keeps saying that my grandmother "did the best she could" when I ask her if having a messy house or wild kids meant my grandmother was a bad mother.  If my mother didn't think she was a bad mother, though, wouldn't she just say "no"? 

Anyway I found out on a genealogy forum where my grandmother's buried and when I'm home I'm going out there to bring her some flowers and tell her I'm not ashamed of her and I'm sorry.

A bad dream I had

The evening of my birthday (Saturday) was really hard for me.  I wish I could realize I'm getting triggered at the moment I'm getting triggered, rather than trying to get to sleep with all these horrible thoughts running through my head and for hours feeling like "why is this happening to me?" till I figure out what happened.  Three people (my mother, my aunt and my husband) said things to me that hurt at the time but I blocked it out almost immediately after I heard it, and then at night when I have all this time to cry I realized their big fat mouths were the reason I couldn't sleep.  It just feels like I've slipped a little further down the "crazy trail" though, and it bothers me that nobody is concerned about it, like my husband, kids, husband's family, my family, and even my counselor are all just observing me like they're watching some funny TV show!

Anyway, that night I tried doing the handkerchief thing my counselor taught me (where you mentally take one problem you're obsessing on and wrap it in a handkerchief mentally and then mentally put it in a box, so you can quit worrying about that because it's safe in the box till the morning - and you keep going through your list of stuff and putting them in handkerchiefs and putting them in the box).  One thing that was bugging me, I was thinking if I could gather my parents, my sister, the doctors, Claudia, and my counselor in one group and let myself say whatever I wanted, I would love to be able to say to Claudia (in front of all of them), "I'm sorry I didn't protect you."  Just so the doctors would feel like crap for hurting her, and my parents and sister would feel like crap for hurting me, and my counselor would feel like crap for not seeing that I'm still hurting.  I did protect her for 12 weeks when I kept her a secret and I also truly believe I WANTED to be her mother!  I never once said, "Oooh, I'm pregnant, I need to get rid of this."

Another thing thing that was bugging me that night because I was so triggered was remembering during the Rachel's Vineyard retreat memorial service, I had to put my hot-dog-shaped cloth "baby" in this big cradle.  When I was thinking about it Saturday night, I cried so hard from confusion - why did we put the babies in there?  What was that supposed to do?  I knew the cloth baby represented MY baby Claudia so here I am in real life clenching my fist like I'm holding this baby because I missed it so much and I missed what the cloth baby represented (my real baby).  I knew I had to do a handkerchief thing for the cloth baby I was obsessing about, and it was making me really mad because I didn't want to let go.  Then I remembered that I always imagine myself giving Jesus the mental box to hold for me all night and finally I realized I could just give the baby mentally to Jesus to hold directly in his HAND (without putting her in the box).  So that's what I did.  And then I thought it was funny that I was jealous that this mental cloth baby got to be held in Jesus' palm.

This is copied from an email I wrote to my counselor earlier this morning (and I believe the dream came out of me worrying about the stuff that happened on my birthday):

This morning I woke up with my stomach all clenched up like I was waiting to be punched but it felt like a continuation of the dream I was having because I remembered what happened in my dream!  I was dreaming about the abortion clinic and everything happened just the same but in my dream I could talk, and the whole time I kept saying that I didn't want to do this and I wanted the baby.  And when I woke up my stomach hurt so bad and in a way I'm kind of relieved because it showed me I did try to protect Claudia the whole time even if in the real story I didn't protest/say anything and it basically showed she was stolen from me.  Anyway, one thing that really happened that got revealed in my dream was a nurse gave me two pills (I think valium?) after I signed in and I'm betting it was supposed to make me forget everything that happened but the only part it ever made me blank out on was the point where they called me back to the O/R to get undressed till the point the doctor came in.

Anyway, mostly I'm just writing this so I don't forget what happened over the weekend.

Six Word Saturday (4/23/11)

I'm so glad tomorrow is Easter!

This is a video from a couple years ago since I don't play handbells any more.

http://youtu.be/j00aRWPxbBY

I just love that song and it was really cool that we got to play it.

Six Word Saturday (4/16/11)

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

There's an episode of the Simpson where Homer goes to a gun shop to buy a gun, and the clerk tells him it'll be a five-day waiting period.  Homer screams the best line, ever, "Five days?!  But I'm mad NOW!"  Anyway, he goes home to wait and all these reminders pass by in front of him. 

Lately I can relate to this (the waiting, not the gun).  My son keeps getting delayed on his deployment to the military and in the meantime he's still living here and my husband isn't being very nice to him.  It's killing me.  It seems like my whole life is just waiting for something else.  After my counseling on Wednesday then I can't wait till Sunday (for church).  Then after church I can't wait till Wednesday (for counseling!).   I have countdown clocks on my personal iGoogle page - one for how many days till Obama's last day as president, one for how many days till my daughter graduates from high school, and one for how many days till the Third Day concert in Tucson I'm going to.

If this was "One Word Saturday," I would just say WAITING!  Ugh!

Down

I applied for a job transcribing sermons earlier this week.  I thought that sure would be a way to honor God with my skill and I'd also make more money than I am right now when the workload is slow.  Well, I heard back from them that they don't need any more help right now but to write again in a few months.  I feel awful.    I hate that feeling where everyone around you is concerned about money (and my husband's family all brag about how much they have) and you find yourself feeling a little greedy too.  It feels like the only reason my husband would like me is because I make money (hence, he's being a jerk to me lately).  So I feel like I'm failing in all aspects of my life - professional, marriage and being a mom.  I went volunteering today and it's odd how the depression disappears while I'm grading Bible study lessons for the students.  On the way home, a song on the radio by Led Zeppelin ended and then "Keep On Loving You" by REO Speedwagon came on, so I got to hear the entire thing from beginning to end, and I thought about Claudia (which I always do during that song, because I feel like she sings it to me) and I feel a little better.