Parenting the Parent

I've heard massively destructive stories about children and adult children who are actually the parents. I am slightly horrified to admit that I am in that particular situation.

My mother becomes terribly distraught with any kind of criticism or sarcasm. She does not know how to retort and she does not know how to defend herself with words. I've known this since I figured out what a come-back was. Ever since the infamous Dave Park, I learned more than my fellow elementary school mates could teach me. Good job pickin' guys, Ma.

This "Day After Xmas", I arranged for a gift exchange. Yes, I admit, many items were things that I happened to have for some years that I always meant to gift, but just never did. It was a perfect opportunity to get the stuff outta my home. Aunt Susan called me out in front of the fam. Lovely.

At the beginning of the day, I realized my condition was going to be more horrendous than I had thought the night before. Ladies, you know what I am talking about. Perfect timing.

I finally got my butt outta bed at 9:30, when I had actually intended to get up at 8-8:30am. I did not answer my phone until... ehmmm... about whenever my cell phone won't tell me. Great. I hate Blackberrys for that reason. Mom had called or I called her and she sounded exhausted, out of breath, etc. She was in the verge of guilt tripping me into hurrying up.  Got snappy after she started complaining about her self-inflicted aches and pains and my grandmother's age-induced exhaustion. Given that it was about 10:30 then, and that we more than likely would not be having anyone arrive until about 3:30 (it always ends up being about an hour later), we ha plenty of time.

I snapped at my mom. I did not have time to explain how bad I was hurting too - damn Aunt Flo. I also did not have time to explain that the longer she kept me on the phone complaining about her nonsense, the longer I would be stuck at home. So I snapped at her.

I got there. I was not in the greatest mood. I hadn't eaten anything at all. I didn't eat anything until the Amicons came and that had to have been after 3:30. I had been moving non-stop attempting to squelch any possible "lazy" comments that might come out of my mom. I froze my butt going outside without my coat which I had left in the car in my hurry to get in the door. I swept the porch. The porch is cluttered with exercise equipment that my mother and grandmother probably never use. The leaves were a royal pain to get out from behind the bag which contains the old gazebo, I am sure. Eck, and the dogs pee on the concrete front porch, usually aiming for the flower pots.

So, Mom got me some boxes to put the items I brought in. I stuff the boxes, wrapped a couple of items that couldn't fit in the boxes. All the while, I tried to burn a DVD of the slide show I had made all in one evening a few nights before. It didn't work on the CDs that I had burned. I almost got it to work on my grandmother's t.v. but the darn thing wouldn't work for me.

The other day, Mom posted a status message saying she really liked the item that didn't make it into the gift game. I said, "You're welcome. Glad we all played by the rules. :-P Hah!" I meant it slightly sarcastically. I did not mean for her to become offended by it. So, through various FB messages, I explained away about four issues that Mom is concerned about. After the last one, I just decided to block her from my friends list.

I really do not need the hassle of her commenting on several of my posts. She has made a competition out of threads on my photos about who I look the most like. Mom got defensive when a cousin said I looked like Dad... which I am none too thrilled with. I don't think I look like my mother either. I had stated on my photos that I look more like both my grandmothers than anyone else in the family. That seemed to suffice, but I think more so when I deleted the photos.

Mom started dating a guy who ended up not being a hundred percent good for her. For the past six months or so, she attempted to break it off and she got suckered several times. Only after forfeiting much of her pride did she finally let him go in that sense. She feels some sense of duty toward him that I used to feel toward some of my exes.

Why am I learning these lessons so much easier than my mother? And BEFORE she learns them herself?!

There's all kinds of nonsense that my mother has put family through. There's a few instances of nonsense I've put my family through. However, I can point out several ways in which I have never worried my folks in which my mom worried hers. I'd say I am doing pretty good. Pretty darn good. Did I mention her counselor (number 15) has gotten aggitated with her periodically because she doesn't stick to any decisions? Dang it. That's where I get it from.

Competition

I find it extremely interesting that my mother is being so damn competitive about whom I look like. Do I look like the Liebers or do I look like the Tibbs family. Who friggin' cares?? I've posted pictures in the recent past; two of them were flat-ironed hair pics.

My cousin had commented that I look so much like the Tibbs family; more specifically, she said I looked like my dad. *gag* Of course, considering the family, considering the internet and privacy, and considering I don't wanna create some stupidity (like my mom did), I did not say what I really wanted to. Instead, my mom comments after my cousin and the two of them went back and forth for a rather long thread. I finally ended it by saying that I look most like my grandmothers. Not my mom or my dad/sperm donor.

To resolve the whole darn thing, I went ahead and deleted the photos and the threads. It was getting on my nerves.

Tonight, she commented on my profile pic of Gramma and I at the COMAR luau. Mom said something about me having many features of both sides so I deleted it. I don't care who thinks what. I don't care if I accidentally do facial expressions like my dad. I don't care if I crack jokes like either of my grandmothers. I don't care if I have space-out moments like my dad. I am me and no one is allowed to friggin' comment on it anymore!!!! DAMnit!

E.T. Phone Home

Shut up. It's not funny.

Okay, so maybe it is. I got that a lot when I was a kid. E.T. came out either the year before or the year after I was born. Curses.

I got a brand new Blackberry a few days ago. I'm so overly thrilled with it. It's not one of the newest models. I wouldn't be able to afford it. It's a 8330 model. I'd been dying for one ever since may days of volunteering. Tha's when I REALLY could have used a Blackberry. Why didn't I get a friggin' Blackberry when I still had student loans?

Speaking of student loans (and I know that the MLA folks frown on ending one paragraph by eluding to the topic of the next, but they can screw themselves), I have to pay my student loans back. The first will begin shortly. Because of my lack of financial security, I'll need to defer. Friggin' A.

Back to the phone I adore. I went to an authorized agent in the area. The guy had just started up from a chain of other stores. His inventory was suffering when I called, as it turns out. I waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, about a week after I'd originally called the turd who fills stores' orders decided to fill his order.

The stupid part is that I had agreed to borrow a Pearl for the time being. I needed a wireless solution for my email pretty quickly because while I am... where I tutor (my mother warns me about giving my location away)... I cannot pick up the WIFI signal on my laptop. Why? I don't know. IT figured out a solution, but the moment I disconnected from the connection - POOF!

I put in some of my regular contact email addresses. Once I got my Curve, the guy at the agent's switched over my contacts. Oh, but here's the extra stupid part. I went to the store and there was a guy there whom I didn't know who - obviously - works there. He was told to switch me from the Pearl to the Curve. Easy enough, right? Nooope. Turns out Eroes was giving him fits because the entire Verizon network was giving fits. I had to be in... the town where I used to live... in an hour, so I had to go. STINKIN' *$#!

The next day is when I finally got my phone that had all my contacts in it. I couldn't used the Pearl at all because the connection had been knocked out of it. The original dude I'd talked to had a hell of a time trying to get my new Curve to link up to the network. It was because the Pearl and the Curve were in wireless limbo. I dunno how that works, but now I know.

So now, I am BBerried. I'm hooked on Crackberry. And there's no going back. Once you go Blackberry, you never go back. Biatch.

Simple Life of Dogs

Our dogs are laying about the house without a care in the world. Oh, to be a dog. Would it actually be that grand, however? Puppies held in the arms of owners so proud to purchase the rut of the litter, do they know what glee they bring to the household? The poor pups must go through a surgery which strips them of a natural drive. Dogs may go through such unfortunate diseases as Parvovirus or Dystemper. The dogs may starve if not for a human placing a bowl of enriched morsels on the floor. If not for a collar, a dog which wanders aimlessly across the street from his or her owner's yard may be lost until found. In about 12 to 15 short years, a dog may have to wag his tail one last time and his owner may be devistated. That is, until another puppy is introduced.

Are we the same way, to an extent? Does someone take pride in our existance - a brand new little being who is just learning how to roll over, crawl, walk, and, perhaps, eventually run away from all that is good and comfortable? Are we in a fight to protect each other and ourselves from our own possible calamity? Will we always be desparate for our government's currency in order to make a living, put food on our tables, and make sure that we do not die of something preventable? Will we have only 77.7 years to live on this Earth, or will our time become extended because we care enough, or are paranoid enough, to care for ourselves as we should, or think we should? Will we have someone say "how sad, how sad" when we cease to exist? Is "how sad, how sad" honorable? Or should those whom we love, dislike, and/or respect feel free to say "s/he led a good life. Let's have a party in his/her honor!"

Inglorious or glorious? Or both at the same time?

Churchill lays upon his mat with his head resting on his green blanket. Churchill became sick with Parvovirus and was nursed to health, an bill which deserves no recognition. This dog's life was saved because of love, not money. Li'l Bit lays next to his dearest owner who wishes she had taken more pictures and videos of him when he was but a baby. Sure, he does not listen when called. In fact, he wanders the completely opposite direction. But the little snaggly teeth, the shiny black bottom lip and the little Zorro mask make it all not matter.

Oh, to be a dog.

Wondering Why...

For the past few months, and really, the past couple years, I have wondered why things at my 'old church' had gone sour. I think I convinced myself as to why, but were they foolish reasons?

Maybe I am overreacting, but I feel very left out of many things that I probably would be part of still had it not been for how I felt about the church and its people. Two or more years ago, I was under the spell of cynicism that was cast by my own vision and that of a young man whom I was desparate to fall in love with.

The people at the church seemed very closed minded. I am not talking about anything regarding 'experiences' of any carnal nature. That is not for me to judge about. What I mean is, folks seemed very clique-oriented. I think I began to feel this way the most when some friends started pointing it out and when I finally began to feel out-of-the-loop. I had not attended occasionally and when I would come back (when work would allow), everyone was building new memories and laughing at jokes that I didn't get. All because work was too demanding, I didn't attend.

I regret letting work take over my life as it did. I was miserable. The girls I worked with were great sometimes, but the overall experience was enough to make me cry - frequently. I wish I had insisted that I have the later half of the day on Sundays off. I wish I had had enough integrity to leave from work and go straight to the church instead of falling to the 'I'm too tired' route.

Maybe then I would be attending my old friends' or would-have-been friends' weddings. I don't know what those are like for them, and all I see are pictures. I don't know if I will get to know what it is like considering who I am with and his experiences.

Perhaps I am overreacting, as I mentioned before. Perhaps I will find some new folks to mingle with where I am. Maybe I'll be with the 'IN crowd' again.

It's funny, I like to think of myself as so much of an independent-minded person, as do many people, but we all need friends. I am at a time in my life where I should be cheering on my friends as they meet their significant other at the end of the aisle, say their vows, and make their parents cry.

Individuality Running Rampant... or Just Running

I've set up this concert, thinking the best and hoping to help meet a goal for the organization. I feel good about the initial setup. I don't feel good about the process.

Initially, I thought that media would be a snap. Just contact the right people and get it done. I had the right people at my fingertips, but I wanted to include various people, one whom I knew I could trust. The problem is, I think the one doesn't feel she can trust me as she once did because of the various things that went down with the organization. On one hand, it's totally understandable. On the other hand, I don't know.

I always want to be the one who understands the reason for circumstances. I am the empathizer. I feel the instinct to jump into the other person's shoes - no matter how distorted the size or structure - and run through possible scenarios. Feelings, words, actions; everything.

This gets me in trouble. Not in the criminal sense or the mentally disturbed sense - or any other way that could be incriminating to my character - but in the sense that I dig myself into a whole. Various people have pointed out this personality quirk and I am attempting to work on it with some people.

One of these people is the most difficult. If she reads this then maybe this will give a little more insight as to why my personality phenotypes itself out the way it does.

I feel like I've explained myself to me, but explaining doesn't seem to come out of me easily. I cannot put some things into words 'in the moment'. For example, the reason I react the way I do when I hit a wall in a difficult situation. I cannot explain for the life of me why I feel... stuck. I suppose that's precisely the word for it.

My brain is somewhat like a computer on XP running on Internet Explorer or something. There are certain moments that a computer will just say, "overload! I can't process this chunk of information so I will just nod my head and grin and act as if I am placated." Re-booting occurs, I think, when someone tells me to snap the **** out of it. Or a least when my brain brings up the Task Manager and permits a termination of a program to 'get on with it'.

I tend to get hung up on stupid things. I don't like it when someone doesn't like me, no matter the circumstances and mostly when it comes to someone that I am very close to. I can't develop the 'I could care less' attitude too easily. Nuture? Maybe. I had to think about that one for a moment. I don't think I am nearly as dysfunctional in that sense as my family is.

My interestingly intellectual boyfriend tells me that, despite the fact my family is... nuts, I turned out pretty darn well. I agree. I don't have the tendencies that my mother has, and if in fact do have any of those tendencies, they are minimal in comparison. This I am proud of.

My degree is something to be proud of too. I hate the fact that this quarter has been rather mediocre, but it's almost over. I can honestly say that I will pass everything. I need to find out many things before the actual graduation ceremony, but I have no clue who to go to for it.

I think that was my problem all through high school when everyone else was planning their college careers or vocations. I didn't know the significance of the people who were at the school leading these kids in whatever direction. If I can't visualize it, I guess I just don't understand it. Draw me a diagram!!!

Thank GOD for Liz Weiss. Professor extraordinaire! She is making Statistics MUCH easier than ever before. I am REALLY thankful for her.

I talked to Heather Odendahl at MRDD. She said the work that I have been doing for the organization is a great resume builder. The boyfriend said that all I ever talk about is putting this or that on my resume. He said as soon as the resume gets me a 'kickass' job, I am given full permission to "kick" him "in the face". He has interesting ways of putting things.

I can't think anymore. :-)

No Currency in Good Intentions

Just listening to a familiar song by a familiar artist. It reminds me that my hands are full. My brain is full and my heart is aching.

This past week, it was a fiasco.

I attempted to pull off a meeting. Didn't quite work. One mom was asked to pull together an agenda. I had my own - with not a lot on it, because I didn't have much to say - but majority of what was discussed was on the mom's agenda. I was duped, I suppose. I didn't realize it, and I don't know if I even realize it right now.

The discussion tonight between the person who should have been able to attend the meeting but couldn't really left me tired and anxious. I don't know how to be assertive with this person and when it seems as though, from the way she brought up what had happened on Monday, I was an egomaniacal sponge for the praise I was plastered with on Monday, I took it personally. I don't know how NOT to take it personally.

Somehow, though I was supposedly duped, I feel like this person distrusts our friendship because of this past week. I didn't want the responsibility of this past week, I stated it and I felt like something was going to go wrong. Something did get out of hand and it made the person who is supposed to be in charge of this whole thing look bad, which was not my intention, and I feel like it's caused irreparable damage.

I don't know if it actually is irreparable, but it seems that it is. As soon as this play is finished, I'll feel better. I said it in an IM that best friends shouldn't work together, and wow, is it ever true.

I think part of the problem is that I am still reflecting on the little 6th grader versus 9th grader scenario that happened so long ago. The dominitive personality versus the passive personality. 12 years of this and then working together is a test that I feel like I have failed more than once because I cannot speak up at the proper time, in the appropriate way. I don't know how to with this one person because I feel bad when something might need pointed out. I know that it is the friend's role to point out the tough stuff, but I haven't done so. I don't want to. I want to be the supporter. If someone else wants to point out things, go right ahead. I'll keep to myself.

I'm not an egomaniacal person. I was horribly uncomfortable at that meeting. I should have said more in favor of Meg, but I suppose that I felt that it had already been said so much and they WEREN'T GETTING IT! Or they did and wouldn't acknowledge it. Bastards.