Dear My Mom,

Just when I think you’ve undermined my parental authority to the furthest extent humanly possible, you surpass yourself flying mid-air. Let me just explain some things you might have missed during our recent conversations. I’ll try to be brief, as I’m sure you have my kids to coddle, make excuses for, buy things for, pick up, drive around, challenge my authority with, baby, and feed (because apparently there is no food in my house). Aren’t you sick of this yet? I sure am.

Here are a few points I would like you to take in- just take them in and let them move around inside you for awhile until you become aware of their existence. Then you might begin to think about something other than pleasing your husband, God and everyone else – with the exception of me of course, which I’ve not come to understand yet. I’ll work on that next, when I’m done fighting you off my kids.

  • There are reasons we aren’t close, many of which you have not ever begun to consider
  • You are NOT my kids mom, that’s me, remember?
  • Your opinion of anything does not supersede mine, I don’t give a rats ass how old you are, you sure haven’t lived long
  • I’m in charge of my daughter and son, you’re in charge of church and yourself
  • When you tell my daughter my opinion, rules, approach, and really all that I am – is wrong and you actually ignore me and do what you want for and/or with my daughter, you’re creating an impossible situation for us all. I believe it’s called “Triangulation”.
  • If you continue to rescue my daughter from her rules at my house, she will be living at your house, permanently
  • You are teaching her how to manipulate and underhandedly cheat in relationships. Not okay.
  • YOU fucking need boundaries
  • YOU fucking need self-awareness
  • YOU fucking need a life

 

mom)

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Liebster Blog Award!

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I am so surprised and honored that I was nominated for a Liebster award today from a like-minded mamma – extrememom.net – how exciting!  The rules for this one state that you answer the 11 questions asked of you by the Blogger who gave you this award. Then you pick blogs you want to nominate (under 200 followers) and ask them your own 11 questions.  These would be Extrememom’s ’ questions for me.

I really appreciate your nomination – Thank you very much!!!

The questions for me were: 

1. If you had to be an Old Maid card, which one would it be? (make something up, like…  Valerie Vodka or Shopaholic Shannon)

Macabre Mommy – ha – just the first thing that came to mind.

2. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done? Just ONE please.

Wow, just one?  I suppose overall, just not trusted my intuition. 

3. If you could live anywhere on earth, where would it be?

I can’t say one place because I haven’t been to enough.  I suppose it would be somewhere north-west with mountains and ocean.  Mmmmmm…

4. What was your favorite childhood toy?

I had about 20 matchbox cars that I played with – they were actually people – named and all, not cars with people in them.  I played with them for hours, creating my own soap opera of sorts.  

5. Are you a dog or cat person? DOG!!!

6. If you could spend the day with any celebrity, who would it be? Why?

Audrey Hepburn – mostly because she’s dead and I’m really curious about that experience.  Plus she’s cool.  

7. What three words best describe your blog?

Honest. Raw. Authentic. 

8. Name something currently on your ‘bucket list’.

I don’t have a bucket list, but I want to be able to learn acceptance and letting go well enough to actually be able to do it.  

9. Who’s your favorite author?

Right now, Gillian Flynn

10. Describe your strangest dream.

Repeatedly being killed by my aunt’s ex husband – and the dream was in red. 

11.  An interesting fact about you…

I love goats?  I’m really not interesting at all.  

And I nominate the following 5 (because I don’t have time to find more that I love, these are the 5 under 200 that I love) – please note if you have more than 200 followers this is not meant as an insult, only my mistake.

1) The Diary of Dave Cameron http://thediaryofdavidcameron.wordpress.com/

2) Wine and Cheese  http://wineandcheesedoodles.wordpress.com/

3) Why is She so Stroppy  http://whyishersostroppy.wordpress.com/

4) Cold  http://victoriadougherty.wordpress.com/

5) Mother Outlaw  http://motheroutlaw.wordpress.com/

6) Vultures and Butterflies  http://vulturesandbutterflies.wordpress.com/

7)  Candid Coma  http://candidcoma.wordpress.com/

8) Finding Amy http://findingamymarsden.wordpress.com/

AND Your Questions Are (answer long or short, one word or fifty, I don’t care)…

1)What was the last thing you said?

2) What are you doing after 5pm today?

3) What would you do for a profession (anything)  if you knew you would succeed?

4) Favorite quote?

5) Do you search forever to find a close parking spot or just park and walk?

6) What’s you’re remedy for cleaning your stove top?

6) How do you deal with anger?

7) Have you ever had shark?

8) Organic or who cares?

9) What is your primary responsibility?

10) What’s one thing you want to know about me (not that I’ll answer)?

11) If you believe in a “higher power”, how do you define it and/or what do you call it?

liebsteraward

It’s Definitely Not Sunday Again

Monday morning starts off with my alarm working perfectly.  Apparently I am not.  Never heard a sound from 5:45 am when the alarm began it’s attempts to arouse me, until I actually woke up (primarily because it was so damn bright in my bedroom) at 8:30 am.

As I rush around to make coffee and gather my wits, my non-working or going to school 17 year old, (who will be working by Tuesday, AND enrolled in an online program or she’ll be lacking a house and food) strolls out of her room in a perky mood, looking beautiful and well refreshed, asking if she may have some coffee while humming a tune.  Why does this make me hate her more than I already do?  One can infer, I have my own reasons.

Now it’s 11:45 am and I’m still attempting to ingest enough coffee to lose the puffy eyes and co-workers are microwaving their lunch, making the whole place smell like food – yuck!  Half my day is missing and I’m trying to catch the hell up.  And write about it.  Because writing about it helps.  And takes up more time.  And I work better under pressure.

My Two Heads

It just struck me how ironic it is that on my way into work I was planning out what to “steal” from my daughters room in order to make her feel a similar rage I felt this morning when I couldn’t find my blush or eye shadow (“Hmmmm, I said to myself, I wonder where it could be” –  not really, that’s not at all what I said).  And now I sit at my computer getting ready to respond to an email from a colleague about a “working moms support group” and how I can help support their mission of being perfect, loving, doting parents as well as world renowned academics.

That’s Just About Enough

I’ve had it up to here, where ever that is.  My blood has been replaced with searing rage and is coursing through my veins at a pace that is near dangerous, though to whom I’m not sure.  I’m always surprised when I can move from one emotion to another – on the opposite end of the spectrum – in 8 hours.  Sleep does a body good, or puts loved ones in danger – it’s yet to be determined.

I actually felt compassion for my daughter last night when she said she was too sad to go to work or school and needed my support.  I almost regretted that I told her she had to go apply for jobs all day at the mall while I was at work instead of sitting on the couch watching movies, eating food and texting me that there was no food.  That is until the C-word was used in reference to my expectations of her which were “insane”.  Enough.  I’m done.  I have no empathy or room for your mouth, needs, wants or sadness anymore.  Let me explain that when you are supporting yourself there is no place for “depression”, being too sad and upset to “do life”.  And I don’t give a rats ass anymore.  You work or you die.  I will no longer be intervening.  Simple as that.  I know about depression and sadness, I really do.  It sucks and it makes life questionable.  But honey, there are times it’s a luxury to be depressed and now is not one of those for you.  E. Nough.

Thirty-Five

It’s interesting how birthday’s lose their luster after a certain age.  Thirty-five is a good number, I’m glad I’ve made it here.  Still, it’s just a day.  I remember waiting months for the big day and so looking forward to the party with family and friends.  Wanting to get older and excited  for the age.   I felt very important and special, which I think was the point.  I’m not in a reflective place – looking at the past seems fairly pointless.  I’m going to look to the future today; amazed that I’ve come this far, grateful for the blessings I’ve incurred and ready to move on, accepting that I am right where I’m supposed to be.

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Dear Kids,

You’re fucked.  Both of you.  Seriously.  I’d really like to know what you’re little broken brains are thinking, if that’s what they are even doing. Are you able to imagine what life will be like for you in five minutes after this meal is over and you don’t have means or a plan for getting the next?  You have no idea how hard it is out there just to live, pay rent, buy food, put gas in the car (if you’re lucky enough to have a car).  The way I want to help you is to teach you how to work hard, but that’s backfired and you hate me.

I know, I’m mostly to blame for most all your issues, and I accept that with little to no argument otherwise.  I’ve been an ass.  A mean awful mother at times.  I imagine this is some kind of revenge, and although you have no idea, it’s about the worst kind.  Ouch.  When you are both falling flat on your face it’s hard to look in the mirror.  Though you forget, I also took care of you, fed you, clothed you, read to you and loved you in the best way I could and knew how.

Now I’ve read books, taken classes, gotten degrees and work in the field of families for Christ’s sake, but none of that changes history.  None of that can change my history.  We are all right where we are.  Past and present.  Fortunately our future is not yet determined.  Fortunately for you.  I’m going to attempt to regroup somehow, work on how to lovingly detach and give detached love.  Right now that looks like me spewing anger and impossible questions your way, but I’ll work on it.  That’s all I can do.

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