Six Word Saturday (8/31/13)

I Am a Good Mother Because ...

I was thinking a lot on my walk today (69 rounds of the military jolie, if you're curious, and I'm really proud of myself how far I'm getting).  Well, more of a continuation of the discussion I had in therapy Wednesday.  I vented a little about a problem I was having with my kids, and my therapist asked me to the effect of "Oh, we're talking about THIS again?" but I said I was just venting.  All the other times I've mentioned problems, he doesn't really help me.  He doesn't have even one bit of advice.  He thinks I'm doing fine.  He claims as long as they know I love them, it doesn't matter what bad stuff is happening to or because of them.  One of the last things he asked me while we were on the subject was what do I need.  I told him since I don't have a mother I can talk to every day (whether I ask for advice or not - just to talk to!), I think I'd like someone to check in on me kind of frequently.  What my heart aches for is to have someone, anyone, say to my face that I'm a good mom.

As I continued walking, I realized that my own mother got positive feedback constantly from people, and she didn't have to cry to a therapist to get it.  In fact, my mom already knew she was a good mom so she technically didn't even need to hear it.

It dawned on me that both of my grandmothers were probably never told they were good mothers either.  My dad's "scary" mother was in and out of mental hospitals her whole life, and my mom's "scared" mother had agoraphobia and other mental issues without treatment who everyone ridiculed her for it.  It really hurts me that they never got to hear positive feedback.  Which brings me to my point about this post today.

Sometimes "Dear Abby" will have a column where someone complains that their friend or family member didn't text them at midnight on New Year's, call them on their birthday, congratulate them on a promotion, etc., and Abby advises that if the complainer wants those things to happen, the complainer can do those things themselves so those things will happen.  If you think it would be cool to have texts at 12:01 on New Year's, text someone at 12:01 on New Year's.  So here's what I'm going to do for myself (although I do admit it really does suck that not a single soul on this earth can help out), every time I catch myself doing something right, something that a "good mom" would do, I'm going to acknowledge it, if not in writing then at least conscientiously in my head.

So for starters, I'll post the first one I thought of, and we're talking basic of all basic ones:  I am a good mother because I had my oldest son, my daughter, and my youngest son.  I am proud of myself that I didn't let doctors' opinions, family opinions, co-worker opinions, and even husband opinions coerce me into making a(nother) horrible choice.

Six Word Saturday (8/24/13)

Even Less Going On This Week

My daughter's friend was moving to Hawaii so she wasn't going to school yet, so my daughter had her stay overnight here on Monday and skipped school Tuesday to be with her for most of the day before she had to say goodbye.  It was hard for me too but I was praying that it wouldn't devastate me, and God helped me.  Anyway, once my son got wind that his sister was staying home from school, it was "only fair" that he got to too.  Since he had stayed up half the night playing video games, he slept pretty much all day!  My husband had a meeting for his part-time teaching job since it was the beginning of their school year and Roberto's catered it!  So I was really hungry for Mexican food so me and the kids had Taco Bell.

I had a bad dream Sunday night and it was one of those dreams where it's something that actually happened but you forget about it till you dream it, and then you say, "Oh yeah, that happened."  Except what I dreamed was scary.  When I was on that date with Ron back in 1984 and we were in the car after it was over, I was trying to get dressed and he was already driving.  It felt like he was speeding and swerving because I kept toppling over in my seat and hitting my head against the passenger door.  I was screaming, "Wait!  Wait!" because I wanted to get dressed, and instead of pulling over he just pushed a cassette in the tape deck and cranked it unbelievably uncomfortably loud.  I couldn't even hear myself screaming or crying anymore.  Then I woke up.  That really happened.  I told my therapist about it Wednesday.

It's funny (odd) that you can go through days without thinking about it at all, and it almost feels like you forget, and then something happens that puts you at least in that mindset.  For me it was watching Northpoint church online.  Andy Stanley was talking about sin and how most people nowadays downplay it as "I made a mistake" which doesn't really own up to it and also doesn't reconcile you with the person you sinned against.  A few years ago I was trying to talk about my abortion with my mom (which you have to do this big dance because you aren't really allowed to talk about it) and I mentioned that when we drove through Rockford on the way to Wisconsin Dells for vacation that I couldn't even put my head up.  I told her I physically couldn't do it because I was petrified I was going to see the clinic out the window.  So my mom dismissively and hurriedly said, "I made a mistake."  (You know, I'm assuming she meant it was a mistake to not get a second opinion about my baby, it was a mistake that she kept seeing signs it was the right thing to do, it was a mistake scaring the hell out of me that I was going to die and now I have three children and it's obvious everyone was lying to me).  Andy Stanley's right - it doesn't make me feel any better that she can "admit" that.  So actually I'm not surprised at all that I had a bad dream.  

The thing that kept me miserable about it was that on Wednesday I got a LinkedIn invitation from the Bible study leader (the study I got kicked out of).  It upset me because none of them have spoken to me since November since they're all a bunch of self-righteous snobs who still judge me.  I was sitting there thinking I'm SO GLAD I never told them about Claudia.  They can hate me for yelling at them but I don't want them to hate me because of her.  So it set me off again hearing from that lady.

Six Word Saturday (8/17/13)

One Week of School is Done

The potluck with my Catholic friends went great and they loved the pie.  They have a certain order to those meetings:  eat and chat with each other and then do a five decade rosary.  I feel so comfortable around those people and it's very calming.

My daughter had been wanting to get her ear holes stretched (!!) all summer, but Monday she said she'd rather just have a second hole in each ear instead so we went to the mall to have that done.  We also stopped at Chik-Fil-A.

 

My kids started school Wednesday.  On the one hand, I was really happy to start getting the house to myself all day again, but on the other hand I was very nervous that they wouldn't like school or wouldn't find friends, etc.  I spent a bit of time at counseling talking about it.  I feel helpless because I can't protect them.  I feel scared because I don't want them to have the same experience with school that I had.  When I picked them up after school, they were both very happy, especially my daughter who was excited that her new math teacher actually seemed like he was going to help her this year.  

I had put a pot of water on for spaghetti for dinner and my husband came home and said I looked tired.  He turned off the stove and took everyone to Wendy's!  That was pretty cool.

I don't know if it was lack of sleep or the fact he had to carry around 50 lbs. of school supplies Wednesday, but my son stayed home Thursday complaining of stomach pain and he rested all day.  I knew it was legit because my son never misses school on purpose!  Hopefully next week they can get into the routine.

Six Word Saturday (8/10/13)

He's Mad at Me Again (Shock)

I don't even know how to start this because it's like reporting about dealing with a six foot tall toddler.  

He got mad at me Monday because I yelped in pain when he shoved my arm away while I was rubbing his feet.  (Yes, you read that right:  HE got mad at ME for MY shoulder hurting.)

He got mad at me again because he was sleeping in the dark with all the dogs (Monday night) and I walked in the room and the Yorkie we were dog-sitting barked at me and woke him up.

 

So, of course, Tuesday he left for work without speaking to me and wasn't speaking to me when he got home.  Well, he did yell at me that he has to do EVERYTHING for me and he's sick of it.

Wednesday was slightly better, but then Thursday he was going to take our youngest son to get a physical for school and he started yelling at me that I didn't write down the doctor's name or the time (and I have told him every day for a week).  He was acting very rushed and I was screaming for him to wait and was frantically trying to find a pen and a paper.  It really upset me because I was already nervous and scared for my son (knowing he was going to get shots, plus I don't like doctors anyway).

Friday he took the kids to play laser tag for a few hours so I didn't really spend much time with him.  I was mostly thinking all day about what exactly I ever need help with and praying that I will have the knowledge and strength to do "EVERYTHING" so that he doesn't throw a stupid fit again like a pouting toddler.

But of course I ruined it because this morning I asked if he would take me to Village Inn to pick up a pie for my retreat luncheon this afternoon.  The street is torn up from construction, otherwise I would've went on my own.  He left without me.  He put the pie in the refrigerator when he came back, and I said "Thank you" all cheerfully, and he yelled at me to leave him alone.  And I started feeling horrible because in hindsight I could have taken one of the kids with me to help navigate the road construction and detours.

I guess I'm upset the most because I love helping people but this pig I'm married to never asks me to help with anything.  Then on top of that, he obviously doesn't love helping people and resents when I do ask for help.  So I want to be extra cautious from now on not to ask that jerk for anything.

Doesn't seem like much of a relationship and it's terrifying wondering why he even wants me around.

To end this on a good note, Wednesday I was out walking and a lady on the other side of the street asked if she could bring her dog over to say hi.  He was a large dog.  She said he was half-Husky and likes to pull things, which I thought was pretty funny, because he was pulling her while they walked.  His name is Cooper and she's training him to be a helper dog.  She got him eight months ago.  Her daughter passed away 10 years ago from Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma which made her depressed, so she told me she wished she would've gotten Cooper a long time ago.  Anyway, I've been keeping my eyes peeled for her and Cooper but I haven't seen them since then.  She told me where they lived though.  It made my whole week seeing them.

Six Word Saturday (8/3/13)

I Read Mary Beth Chapman's Book

I had heard a lot about the book "Choosing To See" already but I went ahead and actually read it on vacation last month.  Not only did it discuss the accident and aftermath of their adopted daughter Maria Sue's death but she also had a few vignettes about her growing up years and her meeting and marrying the singer Steven Curtis Chapman.

One thing that surprised me is that she admitted she wasn't all pure and innocent when they got married (but it was from some other guy - a "predator," in her words).  I'm wondering if the self-righteous Baptists who love her husband's music so much would still think she was such a wonderful person if they knew this about her.  I'm also conflicted about her use of the word "predator" because if it was the teenage sex experience she hinted at then she needs to own up to her part in it.  Then again, if she was date-raped (like being tricked into doing it with no way of escape, like my experience), "predator" would be the word to use.  I guess I would have liked to have learned more details about it.  Also it would have shown me and others who read her book that you actually aren't considered a disgusting piece of unwanted trash to others and God if that ever happened to you.

I knew most of the details of the accident because they had already been discussed in interviews and articles. I don't know if this is typical of someone who has lost a child (whether it be through abortion like me or some other death), but I was very curious about the accident that killed Maria Sue. One thing I didn't know is that Will Franklin (who accidentally hit her with his car) is allowed to grieve for her and miss her!  I wish I had that freedom with Claudia.  Mary Beth wrote about him at first wanting to wear his blood-soaked shirt to show everyone it was his fault that Maria Sue was killed.  His brother wrestled it away from him and threw it in a lake.  Nobody is ever mad at him for what happened and he could mourn for her just like they were doing, as if she had been killed by someone else.  I absolutely love that.  I also cried when Steven Curtis yelled "I love you!" to Will Franklin out his car window on the way to the hospital.  I almost can't put my head around it that Will Franklin can do something horrible (even though for sure it wasn't intentional in this case) and his father still could say he loved him.  I wish my parents, other family members, and Baptists (ha!) could be that way towards me.

Another thing she wrote that struck me is how she dreads the 21st of every month.  It's like a little "anniversary" reminder of the date of the accident.  Of course, this book was written quite soon after the accident and maybe she feels indifferent about it now three years later.  As for me, I don't have a problem with the 15th of the month unless it's January.

At any rate, I liked this book a lot and hopefully she will write an updated one about the new stages of grief she's going through.  I think that would be helpful to a lot of people.

Six Word Saturday (7/28/13)

There Really Isn't Much Going On

It rained three different days this week!  We really needed it too.  It made my walks a little challenging from all the puddles though.  This picture doesn't show it but early in the morning the entire width of the path was underwater from big puddles all the way down to the end.

My daughter took this picture with her phone when she got up five hours after I went walking, so she was really teasing me about the "huge" puddles (which had evaporated a lot by then!).

I swear my kids are like vampires because they stay up all night playing video games and texting friends, and then the next day they sleep in and I don't see them till way after I have lunch.  I'm a little worried how they're going to adjust in a couple weeks when they start school.  Maybe next week I should wake them up (or keep them up) at 8 so then the next week it won't be so bad when they have to get up at 7 for school.

And that's all I have this time!

Six Word Saturday (7/20/13)

Donuts, Risking Things, and Ending Friendship

Monday the 15th my daughter and I went to Starbucks for the first time ever.  Now I know what all the hype is about.  I had a mocha frappuccino and she had this complicated iced tea drink (I know two of the flavors were green tea and peach).  We went to Wal-Mart and I got her the "As Seen On TV" earwax vacuum.  She used it for about 15 seconds when we got home and said it wasn't helping (exasperating!).  Later that day she came over to me and said she was able to hear for about a minute and now it was clogged up again.  I was so relieved because I knew at that point that her ear would get better.

Dunkin' Donuts actually opened on the 16th.  My husband and kids went after dinner the next night and picked up some donuts.  It was kind of disappointing because instead of boston cream filled, the chocolate frosted donuts had lemon filling in them.  I think the store made a mistake and they didn't taste good.

Wednesday at therapy we talked about taking risks with people (to see if they want to be friends, etc., and specifically my current situation of trying to repair a relationship).  I realized that I could risk someone rejecting me because I do have a "safety net" of sorts:  my therapist would still be there caring about me.  I've known him for a few years now so I don't have any reason to doubt him.  What happened Friday really solidified my trust in him though.

For the past couple weeks my therapist had been supporting me in composing a response to my "friend" who I had problems with (I was excluded from her wedding, for starters).  He told me I should write her some of my background and then explain how it affects me in the present time, thinking that would help.  I told her her to give me some more time to finish a response, and I finally sent it yesterday.  She wrote back within two hours.  Since it was so fast, I thought she was just being a brat and writing to me requesting more time (like I did to her).  So the long email I got from her totally knocked me down.  She was blaming, she was preaching, and she didn't make much effort to understand where I was coming from.  I wasn't expecting it at all and it hurt excruciatingly.  I jumped up from my computer and my first inclination was to go break some dishes, like that would help the pain in my chest.  I remembered I had felt that same pain and wanting to break things on the 25th anniversary of my abortion in 2010, and I felt that way because my parents and sister were having an ordinary day and I was having a painful one and they don't ever acknowledge I'm upset.

The pain was excruciating and desperate, like I was sinking in quicksand, and I literally screamed "God!" (like how you'd scream to him for help one last time before your head goes under).  And I actually felt instantly pulled out, and I felt protected and rescued, and it felt amazing.  I said "Oh that's right, you're with me."  Isn't that weird how you don't even think about him being with you 24/7 until something bad happens and then it feels like a surprise to find out he's right there.  Anyway, it felt like I was on autopilot (or another pilot) because I was calm but knew I should hurry and send her email to my therapist before he left for the day.  Just knowing he would be aware that she wrote me back would make me feel more comfortable.  Although she did make a few good points and she did embarrass me a lot, the need for him to know about the hurtful things she said outweighed him possibly taking her side or thinking I was an idiot.  Then I texted him to say I sent it so he'd check email before shutting off his computer.  I felt a little pain because I also texted him that I wanted someone to care and I was scared he'd take her side, but then I felt peaceful again.  He texted me back immediately "I care" and that he'd get back to me soon.  The phenomenal thing about this happening is that I'm not fantasizing about retaliating in a violent way or obsessing/ruminating about her.  Last night I slept fine.  If anything, I'm proud (if that's the word) of God that he's helping me keep from thinking about her and how much it hurts.  I told my therapist when I forwarded her email that I don't want friends anymore, ever, and he wrote me back that it's perfectly understandable.  I feel listened to and cared about and I feel peaceful and not panicked that I can't make it till my next session.  I confidently feel like I'll be okay.  It's awesome.