Six Word Saturday (9/28/13)

Unglued, Surprise Visit, and Eating Out

Unglued

I finished Lysa TerKeurst's book a couple days ago.  I'm familiar with her from her contributing posts on incourage.me, and her writing style sometimes takes away from my interest in what she's saying.  Even in her book, she used a lot of sentence fragments.  Like this.  And it drives me nuts.  She also uses words like "Google," "blog," "You know what I'm saying?," etc., that aren't going to hold over for eternity.  It's a shame because I loved her book otherwise!  This actually is one of those books that you're looking for when you feel frustrated, crying, and hopeless and are thinking to yourself, "I wish I knew what to do!"  This book was so helpful to me in that regard.  The only thing that disappointed me (besides her writing style) is I'm familiar with her back story and she didn't mention a single word about her abortion, so all the self-righteous Baptists who read her book are thinking she's one of them (you know, sinless).  It's one thing to give helpful instruction for not coming unglued when you're coming from a place of "for the most part I'm a pretty good person" but another thing to give instruction when you come from a constant place of "Of COURSE I'm a bad person!"  As I said though, despite her writing style and not mentioning her abortion, this was a wonderfully helpful book.

Surprise Visit

My daughter has been bossy and borderline abusive to my youngest son virtually since the day he was born, and once he got older he started fighting back.  It scares me to death.  My oldest son used to help me get things back in control but he hasn't been around for three years, so they're fighting bad again.  My youngest son has a habit of disengaging from a fight but then sitting in his room screaming and crying like he's being murdered.  He won't tell me how I can help, and my daughter pretty much just stokes the fire and yells at him some more.  I have been bringing up in counseling about every other month how they treat each other.  Well, typing that, I just realized that it wouldn't sound like an emergency if it was that infrequent.  At any rate, Tuesday they fought again, my youngest son screamed and cried and refused to go to school.  (Their school is cracking down on absenteeism and I don't want to get in trouble because he's already missed three days of school and they started only a month ago, so I was very frustrated.)  So I typed up an email to my therapist demanding to know why he wasn't helping me with their fighting.  He said he'd get back to me (which upset me).  Then two hours later he wrote me again saying that he was coming over so be ready, and he showed up at my house.  By then, my son had calmed down and was talking to my therapist like a normal person.  From that surprise session, we determined that I could tell my daughter to give us 10 minutes and then I could go into my son's room and shut/lock the door and listen to what's bothering him when he's upset like that.  Then I could go into my daughter's room, shut/lock the door and listen to her (since it's her big thing to complain that I'm "always" on my son's side, and it probably does look that way since she doesn't get equal time with me, her yelling doesn't count).

Although I was EXTREMELY grateful that my therapist finally believed me for once that things are bad around here and was proactive in helping me out, when he left I realized what my house must have looked like to him.  It's a f***king mess and it smells, and I've been to his house before and they are neat freaks.  I had a session with him at his office by myself the next day and I mentioned being ashamed about the condition of my house, and he said something about it being an underlying problem but that as soon as I get the bigger issues dealt with that it wouldn't be such a problem.  It hit me the wrong way that he kept saying "problem" and when I got home I started cleaning things up.  I told  him I want to be as shallow and fake as he and his friends are.  Everyone in this stupid town has a neater house than me.  I'm no hoarder and the Health Department wouldn't say anything about how we live, but I sure feel worthless now.  I don't have an excuse for living like this because when I was married to my second husband he demanded everything be perfect, and it was, so I can do it because I did it back then.  I guess I just need to make being fake, shallow and neat a priority.  Little by little, I'll get there.

Eating Out

Me and the younger two kids met up with my oldest son and his wife at Texas Roadhouse on Thursday night and had dinner with them.  My kids didn't really say much.  I don't have the words to describe the anguish I feel deep inside myself about them moving so far away.  Anyway, my husband's parents are coming down on Sunday, and possibly we'll be having dinner with everyone so they can say goodbye to my oldest son and his wife too.  My husband is vicious and hates my oldest son and won't talk to him but probably will be compliant if his dad wants us to go.

Six Word Saturday (9/21/13)

 Emotions Are All Over The Place

My new job is actually pretty hard.  There are a lot of medical terms and drug names that I keep having to look up the spellings for, and it slows me down.  Also the audio isn't the best (recordings of doctors' appointments) and some accents are really difficult to understand.  I feel kind of discouraged.  I had visions of saving up all this money and actually contributing to the family by paying off some bills or paying for a vacation, but I'm not really sure $5 a document (average) is worth the stress and aggravation and dings on my self-worth for being so slow.  And, of course, now I feel guilty because it's like I let God down if something happens to this job or I quit. My husband, for some oddball reason (I'm thinking alien abduction) actually told me I didn't need this job OR the other job and that I didn't need to work at all.  He thought I just wanted to work as something to do.

I didn't get done working till 3 a.m. on Friday and then I went to bed.  I got up leisurely around 9:00 and was in the middle of making some toast and getting ready to read a book while I ate breakfast when the doorbell rang.  I thought it was going to be the neighbor kid so I took my sweet old time answering the door, still in PJ's and messy hair, and ... it was my oldest son!  Oh my gosh, I was so happy!  I felt a little ashamed that the house was such a mess but he knows that's how we live so it wasn't too bad.  The coolest part was that my younger two kids didn't have school that day due to parent-teacher conferences so they got to see him too!  He goes to Italy on the 1st.  He and his wife are supposed to have dinner with me and the kids some night before he takes off.  And he didn't sign on for two years; they're going to be there for four.  I don't want it to sink in because this huge cloud of depression is just going to kill me.

My father's having another minor heart procedure (pacemaker) on the 8th.  I know this is awful to say but I worry about him dying during it for the sole reason he'll get to see Claudia in heaven before I get to.  I've repeatedly told my parents I don't want to outlive them but I don't think they know the actual reason why.

Due to my new job being so time consuming and tiring, I haven't finished reading "Unglued."  I'm about two thirds done and think it's surprisingly good.  Maybe next weekend I can give a report.

Six Word Saturday (9/14/13)

Guess What?  I Got Another Job!

God answered my prayers that I've basically been saying since my birthday back in July.  I applied at two places online in the last couple months, and the first place contacted me on 9/11 and offered me a job.  So far I've only done one five-minute audio for them (and have two more small ones to do this weekend).  But I'm thrilled and ever-thankful!  Now I can make a little more money and feel a little more needed.

The only other thing going on this week is that my mother told me that my oldest son and his wife were driving to my brother's house in Kansas, and my parents were meeting up with them there.  And, surprise-surprise, my sister was bragging on Facebook that she was in Kansas for the weekend too!  My mother claimed that my son told her that they were probably coming here (since his wife's family lives here too).  But technically I haven't talked to him since Mother's Day.  It doesn't help that my husband doesn't like him so I don't blame them if they skip us when they're in town.  But he has a younger brother and sister here, and then my oldest son and wife get sent to Italy for two years.  I always feel like I'm not going to live long enough to see them when they get back.

In other news, I bought Lysa TerKerst's book "Unglued" and it's pretty good so far and I'll probably talk about it next Saturday.

Six Word Saturday (9/7/13)

Five Wishes and The General's Daughter

It feels like my therapist is reading my blog because Wednesday he gave me an assignment to remove my "filter" (he thinks I don't pay attention to people's compliments of me) and observe how many times people do say I'm a good mom.  Weird, huh?  So hi Mark if you read this today.

Five Wishes by Gay Hendricks

My sister had been recommending this book to me for quite some time and I finally ordered it and finished reading it.  Basically, this man tells a story of going to a party and having some guy ask him to imagine the end of his life on his deathbed and answer the question "Did you have a successful life?"  Then the author goes through his own personal five answers ("My life was successful because/my life wasn't successful because ...") and shows how he turned the answers into positive workable goals, so that when he really does lay on his deathbed, he can answer yes to that question.  There was a worksheet where you can plot your own deathbed answers.  Here are mine:

My life was not a success because ...

1.  I didn't make my own decisions.

2.  I didn't have a job all the time that I loved.

3.  I didn't live somewhere comfortable and healthy for me.

4.  I didn't invest much time in my family (husband and kids).

5.  I didn't act friendly to everyone even if they weren't my friend.

(My action plan)  My life is now a success because ...

1.  I make decisions even if people hate me for it.

2.  I'm typing things for fun while waiting for my dream job to come along.

3.  I'm careful to keep my body comfortable no matter the weather conditions.

4.  I'm slowly and consistently finding things to do with/for my kids and husband to show love.

5.  I am friendly to everyone I see.

The General's Daughter

My sister let me stream this movie Wednesday afternoon.  It's from 1999 and has John Travolta in it.  He plays an investigator of the murder of an army general's daughter (hence the title).  There are flashback scenes and interviews with different people in her life (specifically her psychiatrist).  ****spoiler**** The psychiatrist mentioned that she told him her father visited her in the hospital after the first brutal rape.  It showed a flashback of the scene.  Her father bent over her and whispered, "It [the rape] ... never ... happened."  He knew if it got out that his daughter was raped at West Point then the controversy would probably cost him any promotions.

How sick is that?

And, of course, it triggered me greatly.  My parents and sister have never talked about my abortion, and I've felt all along that they go on with their lives like nothing ever happened.

Anyway, John Travolta's character solves the murder and you surmise the general pretty much gets to go on with his life worry-free as if his daughter didn't even exist.  ****end spoiler****

To end this for this week, I'm a good mother because ...

*  I made a promise to my daughter on Tuesday to take her to the gas station to get a Slushee and Wednesday I did it.

*  Thursday one of my dogs was really sick and I took care of/cleaned up after her.  (I know that I'm not a dog's mother but I'm still counting it.)

*  Thursday I gave the kids a little surprise (a glass of Cherry Coke) for eating dinner at the table with me.

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.