The house is quiet.
For now.
It likely will only last about an hour, but I'll take it over the meltdowns that have happened daily since Hopper broke her leg. It's been a long 4 weeks since that happened.
I'm not complaining. At least I don't mean to be. I can't express how very thankful I am that she's doing so much better. And for the most part, I can handle the meltdowns. They mean she's getting back to her normal self, who absolutely hates being confined to a wheelchair and the frustration it brings. In ways, I'm thankful she's frustrated. It means she's not happy being stuck where she is, and she won't be comfortable staying in the wheelchair forever. She's got such an easy going spirit overall, that one could get the idea that she is fine with things never changing or with a lack of healing/growth on her part.
But I am honestly fatigued by the meltdowns. They wear on me. And while yesterday and today haven't been too bad, the last few weeks have been horrendous.
Bugster and Bubster had their wedding over the weekend, and I'm not sure, if it's a lack of sleep on the girls' part, (Let me break in here by saying the quiet was so quiet that I couldn't keep my eyes open, and we all took a much needed nap! Now...back to your regularly scheduled post...), or what, but the meltdowns have been plentiful. Saturday, the day of the wedding, Hopper probably had at least a dozen meltdowns throughout the day before the wedding. She had a couple more when we were at the park to break the pinata and then again at the ceremony.
Her meltdowns can be a bit contagious. And although Scooter hasn't has as many meltdowns as Hopper, Hopper's have triggered them. Sadly, Hubster and I are not immune. We normally have the patience to deal with a meltdown here or a meltdown there, but we've had no space between them in which to recover, and we've snapped a few times.
Hubby had his parents come over for a visit on Sunday while I was out with my sister and mom for a few hours. He wanted to give me a break, and he thought maybe it would be easier on me to have them over while I was gone, and I was all for both the break and not being here when they were seeing the house and all it hoards. However, it was a bit much for him to handle alone, and he said that he exploded out of pure frustration at Hopper. He didn't hit her. He didn't call her names. But he did yell at her. And he's got a big voice. It's not something that happens with any frequency. We try very hard not to yell at the girls, but we're human, and sometimes, when we've had no break from the stress, when there is no relief in sight, we've been known to yell. And while neither of us want to yell at the girls, we'd rather it come out as something loud rather than something hard like a fist.
And so, when I was away from the house, and Hubster was here alone with the girls, their moods, and their grandparents, he snapped. And his dad, in all his infinite wisdom, encouraged Hubster that maybe we needed to do it more often. After all, it caused her to stop her meltdown.
:::insert extra large eye roll here::::
Hubster put the girls to bed and then talked with his parents, who have never once showed an ounce of understanding for what goes on with the girls, either for us as parents or for our beautiful daughters. And how he didn't totally explode at his parents is beyond me. Instead, he asked a hypothetical question. He asked, "What would you have done, if I was out of control, and yelling didn't snap me out of it? Would you hit me? What if you couldn't or wouldn't hit me for whatever reason? What would you do then?"
His dad didn't have any answers.
He explained that every single day, grown people throw fits. That sometimes, "when Judy hurts my sensitive little feelings, I give her the silent treatment". That other times when an adult is going through a rough divorce, they end up murdering their entire families. And while these are only examples of fits that people throw, that adults with a normal mental capacity still have the ability to pull themselves into check and realize what they're doing. They can typically reason with themselves and stop throwing their fits.
However, the girls aren't typical. They feel the emotions that they feel when they feel them. They don't stuff them. The love, anger, sadness, happiness and joy they feel are more real than what most people feel, simply because they have no way of faking it. So when they're feeling overwhelmed, scared, sad and angry, it comes out in the form of a meltdown. And all we can do is allow them to feel it, even when they sometimes feel those deep emotions when it's not convenient to us.
So his mom asked, if we'd considered taking her to a psychiatrist. Had we considered drugs?
::::insert monumentally HUGE eye roll here::::
I know. Maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt. She seriously could have just been brain storming and trying to help find a solution. So Hubster explained again that we had gone the route of the psychiatrist. That he'd put her on medication, and that when the medication didn't seem to be quite enough according to the psychiatrist that he upped the dose, and then she started getting physical. It was infrequent at first. She would only have full-blown meltdowns once a month. We figured it had to do with her hormones, but it wasn't long before she was having meltdowns more than once a week. By the time we realized the meds were the culprit in her uncontrolled rages, Hopper was getting physical with me 3 and 4 days out of the week, and each day consisted of 3 to 4 altercations with her trying to beat me up. She was on the medicine for 2 full years before we realized that it was the cause of the problems. So yeah. We tried a psychiatrist. And we tried drugs.
Yeah. They didn't work.
It was obvious at the wedding the night before that they both felt that the girls are not disciplined, and if we only (fill in the blank) that they'd behave better in public. The thing is, they're two of the most well behaved kids you'd ever meet. I'm fairly certain the inlaws came to our house thinking the same thing when they visited our home when Hubster was taking care of the girls while I was gone. I think they may have left with a totally different understanding of their son's family and the life we live.
Hubster wondered, if maybe, somewhere, they might get that we know how to handle the girls, that we might actually know what we're doing after all these years. After all, Hopper is weeks away from being 21. Only time will tell, if they took anything out of the conversation.
When Hubster told me everything that happened, I told him that he'd never been sexier to me. He shows me on a daily basis what we mean to him. We never lack for love. Ever. But for him to go so far as to explain things to his parents regardless of any sort of backlash, it speaks volumes about what he feels for us.
I just hope that his parents finally see it.
Showing posts with label inlaws. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inlaws. Show all posts
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
The good, the bad and the ugly.
Woke up from a nightmare this morning. Heart racing. Palms sweating.
We were apparently staying with the in-laws, but they decided in the middle of our stay to go out of town, and we had the house to ourselves. I got out of the hot tub (they don't have one, so I'm thinking that came in to the picture from the stiffness in my body over the weekend), and went into the kitchen to fix something for everyone to eat, but when I went in there, I couldn't believe the mess.
The dishes were piled high everywhere. There was trash that hadn't been thrown in the garbage can and was sitting precariously perched here and there. My heart sunk. I walked through the other rooms of the house, and I couldn't believe what a mess it was. There were clothes strewn everywhere. There floor was covered. I couldn't even find the swimsuit I'd taken off when I got out of the hot tub for the clutter.
My heart sank.
It was then I realized we'd been in town for several days and hadn't even taken the time to visit my brother, and we had to leave in the next few days. I woke up to the realization that it was going to take at least 2 full days of cleaning to get the house in order.
What a rough way to wake up. I've got a knot in the pit of my stomach. I am sure the stress of not being able to accomplish much of anything since we got home a little over 2 weeks ago. I am motivated, however, to kick some major butt today in the house!
We woke up Saturday morning feeling much better, and we were able to meet Bugster to go wedding dress shopping. She looked amazing! We were also able to find something for Hopper and me to wear to the wedding. We've had Scooter's outfit for over a year, but I'd been stressing over the rest of us. Hopper hates dressing up even more than her dad, which says a lot, but we settled on a colorful ankle-length broomstick skirt and blouse that matched one of the colors. She was happy with it, and because she sees Scooter wear skirts like that all the time, we figured she'd be comfortable wearing it.
What a relief!
Seriously! A huge relief! Things will go so much more smoothly, if Hopper is comfortable in what she's wearing and doesn't freak out. She wore a shorter skirt when we took Hubster out yesterday for Father's Day, and she freaked a little. She doesn't like the attention that wearing new clothes brings, so it was a rough start to an otherwise great day out, and by the time we were halfway through dinner, she was talking about how cute her outfit was. It was worth getting the stress out of the way now, even though it did put a bit of a damper on the celebration to start.
We were able to pick up a pair of black jeans the hubby will be wearing for the wedding and got them washed and hung to dry, so they don't fade. He won't take any chances by wearing them before the big day. We still have to find a dress shirt for Hubster and get some shoes for us girls, but otherwise we're set. I am so relieved! It's weighed on my mind a lot, and it's just one more big thing off The List.
Another big one marked off? I finally finished the paperwork that had me so stressed out since we got home from vacation. It was dropped in the mailbox at the post office last night. Thankfully, it's just being mailed here in town, so it shouldn't take long for it to get there, and hopefully everything will get straightened out in short order.
I've got entirely too much to do, but I'm hoping I get enough done today I'm not dreaming stressful dreams about the inlaws and the house again.
I'll be starting in the refrigerator. Found out the hard way that it's not a good idea to lay an opened bottle of sparkling apple cider on it's side, even if the cap is back on as tight as it will go.
:::sigh:::
We were apparently staying with the in-laws, but they decided in the middle of our stay to go out of town, and we had the house to ourselves. I got out of the hot tub (they don't have one, so I'm thinking that came in to the picture from the stiffness in my body over the weekend), and went into the kitchen to fix something for everyone to eat, but when I went in there, I couldn't believe the mess.
The dishes were piled high everywhere. There was trash that hadn't been thrown in the garbage can and was sitting precariously perched here and there. My heart sunk. I walked through the other rooms of the house, and I couldn't believe what a mess it was. There were clothes strewn everywhere. There floor was covered. I couldn't even find the swimsuit I'd taken off when I got out of the hot tub for the clutter.
My heart sank.
It was then I realized we'd been in town for several days and hadn't even taken the time to visit my brother, and we had to leave in the next few days. I woke up to the realization that it was going to take at least 2 full days of cleaning to get the house in order.
What a rough way to wake up. I've got a knot in the pit of my stomach. I am sure the stress of not being able to accomplish much of anything since we got home a little over 2 weeks ago. I am motivated, however, to kick some major butt today in the house!
We woke up Saturday morning feeling much better, and we were able to meet Bugster to go wedding dress shopping. She looked amazing! We were also able to find something for Hopper and me to wear to the wedding. We've had Scooter's outfit for over a year, but I'd been stressing over the rest of us. Hopper hates dressing up even more than her dad, which says a lot, but we settled on a colorful ankle-length broomstick skirt and blouse that matched one of the colors. She was happy with it, and because she sees Scooter wear skirts like that all the time, we figured she'd be comfortable wearing it.
What a relief!
Seriously! A huge relief! Things will go so much more smoothly, if Hopper is comfortable in what she's wearing and doesn't freak out. She wore a shorter skirt when we took Hubster out yesterday for Father's Day, and she freaked a little. She doesn't like the attention that wearing new clothes brings, so it was a rough start to an otherwise great day out, and by the time we were halfway through dinner, she was talking about how cute her outfit was. It was worth getting the stress out of the way now, even though it did put a bit of a damper on the celebration to start.
We were able to pick up a pair of black jeans the hubby will be wearing for the wedding and got them washed and hung to dry, so they don't fade. He won't take any chances by wearing them before the big day. We still have to find a dress shirt for Hubster and get some shoes for us girls, but otherwise we're set. I am so relieved! It's weighed on my mind a lot, and it's just one more big thing off The List.
Another big one marked off? I finally finished the paperwork that had me so stressed out since we got home from vacation. It was dropped in the mailbox at the post office last night. Thankfully, it's just being mailed here in town, so it shouldn't take long for it to get there, and hopefully everything will get straightened out in short order.
I've got entirely too much to do, but I'm hoping I get enough done today I'm not dreaming stressful dreams about the inlaws and the house again.
I'll be starting in the refrigerator. Found out the hard way that it's not a good idea to lay an opened bottle of sparkling apple cider on it's side, even if the cap is back on as tight as it will go.
:::sigh:::
Monday, May 16, 2011
A bitter pill to swallow.
I've been up to my elbows in pinata juice today. We were busy over the weekend finishing up the raised garden bed The Hubster made me for Mother's Day. Everything's been planted, and I couldn't be happier! Still. Working on it made me forsake my pinata making duties, and I need to get this thing finished, so it's ready in time for the wedding.
Normally, I love painting, sewing or making pinatas, because they give me time alone to think and reflect on things. It's a good thing, unless I start going over and over the same thing in my mind and second guessing myself and wondering, if I'm overreacting to a situation or whatnot. I hate obsessing about things, and I usually don't do it, but I find myself doing it more often, when I'm alone with my thoughts.
Today has been no exception.
I've been obsessing over The Inlaws.
It all started when I noticed that Bugster became friends with her cousins and aunts and uncles on her dad's side on Facebook. I just wasn't expecting it. It took me off guard, and before I knew it, my stomach was in knots. My stomach was doing flips like it was competing for the gold medal in the Olympics.
The thing is, I want Bugster to keep in touch with her cousins on both sides of her family. I think it's wonderful that she is in contact with them, and I hope she can get to know them better than she does right now. But something about seeing my husband's brother and his wife totally threw me off.
I don't like them.
I used to like them, but then I got to know them.
I didn't like what I saw when I saw the way they treated our girls, and now I can't even stand the sight of them. I get angry when they happen to cross my mind, and I hate it. I am afraid I'm becoming bitter toward them, and I don't want that to happen. I don't like feeling like this at all, but they hurt my little girls' feelings, and I have no use for them anymore.
Several years ago, we attended Hubster's family reunion. It was small. It consisted of his parents, our family and the families of his two brothers. So it was decided we would all go to the mall to go shopping together at a gigantic mall in Scottsdale. We'd have much rather spent the time visiting than shopping, but we went along, since that was what was on the schedule.
The plan was to go shopping and all meet back in the food court of the mall at a certain time. While all this was being discussed, Scooter had walked up to her Aunt Kay and started holding her hand. It was Scooter's way of saying that she liked Kay, and that she liked hanging out with her. While Kay smiled and acknowledged Scooter's presence when she walked up and took her hand, she simply let go of Scooter's hand and walked off without a word to our little girl. Scooter was absolutely crushed. She clearly understood that Kay didn't feel the same way about Scooter as she did about her.
And as much as this incident made us want toscratch and claw her eyes out write Kay off for good, we somehow maintained our composure. It's probably a good thing, or I think I'd have been arrested for handling the situation like I did in my head.
But wait! There's more!
During the same family reunion, Bugster was constantly quizzed by Kay, a former school teacher and now principal, about what she'd learned, read, and whether or not she ever got out of the house to socialize with other kids. Poor Bugster couldn't relax and have a good time while she was there, because she felt there was always a pop quiz right around the corner. And while I can understand a question here or there about Bugster's homeschool experience asked as a result of genuine interest, the real reason Kay was probing had to do with her feeling of superiority. In her mind, the only way a child can learn is from a teacher, and I was not a teacher.
Ugh.
A few years later, we had yet another family reunion. We'd met in a small ski town to spend the day having dinner, shopping and whatever else deemed fun. It was decided that after we ate we'd hang out and go shopping. However, The Hubster was invited to ride around the mountains a bit with his dad, brothers and nephews. Hopper asked, if she could go with them. She can never seem to get enough time with her daddy, and she wanted more time with him as well as getting some time alone with the guys in the family. We stood there stunned, as we saw her grandfather shaking his head vigorously and making sure we knew that she was not welcome.
Talk about a blow. This time, Hopper was crushed, and Hubster was absolutely devastated. He couldn't believe his dad had done that. We would have totally understood, if they'd have taken us aside earlier and explained that they were hoping for some man time, But the public manner in which it was done, right out there on the sidewalk in front of the cafe where little Hopper could witness it was almost too much to bear. She was absolutely crestfallen.
Being the stand up guy and adoring father that he is, Hubster chose to spend the time with his girls instead of going riding with the guys.
But wait! There's more!
Not only did the guys make it perfectly clear that our girls were not welcome to spend time with them, but his mom made it clear she didn't want the girls shopping with her, either. As we were getting ready to follow her into the store, she turned and told me that she thought the stores were too small for Hopper and Scooter to shop in, because they might break something, so they'd catch us later. It didn't matter that Hopper and Scooter are good shoppers and don't maul the stuff on shelves. She just didn't want them around. Fighting back tears, I just tried to explain to the girls why they couldn't shop with their aunts, cousins and grandmother and tried to heal their wounded hearts.
But wait! (Are you sensing a theme yet?) There's more!
Everyone had agreed to meet in one spot about 5:00. It was just up the street from where we'd been shopping, so we knew it would take no time to get there. So when Hubster, Hopper, Scooter and I all came out of one of the little shops around 4:30 and saw his parents in one car and his brother's family right behind them headed back towards home some 50 miles away, we were taken a bit off guard. His parents slowed down a little, told us they were heading home, and they'd see us for supper.
Poor Hubster. Talk about being slammed with reality, (and a sucky one at that), over and over and over again for the day. It was very obvious that we were not wanted. We were not good enough to be in their presence. He was totally devastated.
I mean, seriously. Who does that?
He told his parents not to expect us, but he wanted to tell them something else entirely, and it wasn't pretty. So our little family came together that night. Bugster had already finished shopping with her cousins and, thankfully, was oblivious to all that had transpired, met up with us, and we spent the evening together as a family - enjoying each other's company, a skate board competition held downtown, ice cream at the local ice cream shop, and just hanging out. We made it through together as a family.
His parents came through town a few years ago. They wanted to take us to lunch. I asked, if they could let us know when they'd get to town, so we knew whether or not to send the girls to school, or if we should pick them up instead. I was stunned when they told us they didn't want us to bring the girls. They told us to leave them in school. They only wanted to spend time with us, because as adults, we "don't get out for adult conversation enough."
They hadn't seen their granddaughters in 2 years.
And while I allowed myself to be bullied, (by them...never by Hubster), into going without the girls, I will never, ever again meet them anywhere without the girls. In fact, I could kick myself for meeting them in the first place.
They can suck my big toe.
All of this has been running through my mind today. And I just get angry when I think about it. This is why my stomach started training for the Olympics when I saw their pictures this morning. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with Bugster and Bubster's upcoming nuptials. Although I know my mother and father-in-law will be here for the celebration, I'm really hoping that his older brother and Kay don't make it. We can tolerate his parents one on one, but when the older brother's family is around they're even worse.
And while all of this is running through my mind, I wonder, if I'm blowing things out of proportion. Should I be trying harder to stay in touch with them? Should I be encouraging Hubster to try and strengthen his family bonds? Am I overreacting, or am I justified in my feelings? Am I just becoming the bitter sister/daughter-in-law? I know I don't feel very Christian toward them at all. In fact, I've had many decidedly un-Christian thoughts toward them.
I told Bugster of my concerns this morning. She said, "Yeah, but Mom, maybe they don't know how to handle the pink elephants in the room" that are her little sisters. "Maybe they just don't know how to react, and so they react poorly".
And all I could think of is that pink elephants have feelings, too. And when our little pink elephants' hearts were crushed, when their countenance was fallen, our family of 5 banded together, huddled around them, and protected them.
Our herd may be small, but it is mighty.
Normally, I love painting, sewing or making pinatas, because they give me time alone to think and reflect on things. It's a good thing, unless I start going over and over the same thing in my mind and second guessing myself and wondering, if I'm overreacting to a situation or whatnot. I hate obsessing about things, and I usually don't do it, but I find myself doing it more often, when I'm alone with my thoughts.
Today has been no exception.
I've been obsessing over The Inlaws.
It all started when I noticed that Bugster became friends with her cousins and aunts and uncles on her dad's side on Facebook. I just wasn't expecting it. It took me off guard, and before I knew it, my stomach was in knots. My stomach was doing flips like it was competing for the gold medal in the Olympics.
The thing is, I want Bugster to keep in touch with her cousins on both sides of her family. I think it's wonderful that she is in contact with them, and I hope she can get to know them better than she does right now. But something about seeing my husband's brother and his wife totally threw me off.
I don't like them.
I used to like them, but then I got to know them.
I didn't like what I saw when I saw the way they treated our girls, and now I can't even stand the sight of them. I get angry when they happen to cross my mind, and I hate it. I am afraid I'm becoming bitter toward them, and I don't want that to happen. I don't like feeling like this at all, but they hurt my little girls' feelings, and I have no use for them anymore.
Several years ago, we attended Hubster's family reunion. It was small. It consisted of his parents, our family and the families of his two brothers. So it was decided we would all go to the mall to go shopping together at a gigantic mall in Scottsdale. We'd have much rather spent the time visiting than shopping, but we went along, since that was what was on the schedule.
The plan was to go shopping and all meet back in the food court of the mall at a certain time. While all this was being discussed, Scooter had walked up to her Aunt Kay and started holding her hand. It was Scooter's way of saying that she liked Kay, and that she liked hanging out with her. While Kay smiled and acknowledged Scooter's presence when she walked up and took her hand, she simply let go of Scooter's hand and walked off without a word to our little girl. Scooter was absolutely crushed. She clearly understood that Kay didn't feel the same way about Scooter as she did about her.
And as much as this incident made us want to
But wait! There's more!
During the same family reunion, Bugster was constantly quizzed by Kay, a former school teacher and now principal, about what she'd learned, read, and whether or not she ever got out of the house to socialize with other kids. Poor Bugster couldn't relax and have a good time while she was there, because she felt there was always a pop quiz right around the corner. And while I can understand a question here or there about Bugster's homeschool experience asked as a result of genuine interest, the real reason Kay was probing had to do with her feeling of superiority. In her mind, the only way a child can learn is from a teacher, and I was not a teacher.
Ugh.
A few years later, we had yet another family reunion. We'd met in a small ski town to spend the day having dinner, shopping and whatever else deemed fun. It was decided that after we ate we'd hang out and go shopping. However, The Hubster was invited to ride around the mountains a bit with his dad, brothers and nephews. Hopper asked, if she could go with them. She can never seem to get enough time with her daddy, and she wanted more time with him as well as getting some time alone with the guys in the family. We stood there stunned, as we saw her grandfather shaking his head vigorously and making sure we knew that she was not welcome.
Talk about a blow. This time, Hopper was crushed, and Hubster was absolutely devastated. He couldn't believe his dad had done that. We would have totally understood, if they'd have taken us aside earlier and explained that they were hoping for some man time, But the public manner in which it was done, right out there on the sidewalk in front of the cafe where little Hopper could witness it was almost too much to bear. She was absolutely crestfallen.
Being the stand up guy and adoring father that he is, Hubster chose to spend the time with his girls instead of going riding with the guys.
But wait! There's more!
Not only did the guys make it perfectly clear that our girls were not welcome to spend time with them, but his mom made it clear she didn't want the girls shopping with her, either. As we were getting ready to follow her into the store, she turned and told me that she thought the stores were too small for Hopper and Scooter to shop in, because they might break something, so they'd catch us later. It didn't matter that Hopper and Scooter are good shoppers and don't maul the stuff on shelves. She just didn't want them around. Fighting back tears, I just tried to explain to the girls why they couldn't shop with their aunts, cousins and grandmother and tried to heal their wounded hearts.
But wait! (Are you sensing a theme yet?) There's more!
Everyone had agreed to meet in one spot about 5:00. It was just up the street from where we'd been shopping, so we knew it would take no time to get there. So when Hubster, Hopper, Scooter and I all came out of one of the little shops around 4:30 and saw his parents in one car and his brother's family right behind them headed back towards home some 50 miles away, we were taken a bit off guard. His parents slowed down a little, told us they were heading home, and they'd see us for supper.
Poor Hubster. Talk about being slammed with reality, (and a sucky one at that), over and over and over again for the day. It was very obvious that we were not wanted. We were not good enough to be in their presence. He was totally devastated.
I mean, seriously. Who does that?
He told his parents not to expect us, but he wanted to tell them something else entirely, and it wasn't pretty. So our little family came together that night. Bugster had already finished shopping with her cousins and, thankfully, was oblivious to all that had transpired, met up with us, and we spent the evening together as a family - enjoying each other's company, a skate board competition held downtown, ice cream at the local ice cream shop, and just hanging out. We made it through together as a family.
His parents came through town a few years ago. They wanted to take us to lunch. I asked, if they could let us know when they'd get to town, so we knew whether or not to send the girls to school, or if we should pick them up instead. I was stunned when they told us they didn't want us to bring the girls. They told us to leave them in school. They only wanted to spend time with us, because as adults, we "don't get out for adult conversation enough."
They hadn't seen their granddaughters in 2 years.
And while I allowed myself to be bullied, (by them...never by Hubster), into going without the girls, I will never, ever again meet them anywhere without the girls. In fact, I could kick myself for meeting them in the first place.
They can suck my big toe.
All of this has been running through my mind today. And I just get angry when I think about it. This is why my stomach started training for the Olympics when I saw their pictures this morning. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with Bugster and Bubster's upcoming nuptials. Although I know my mother and father-in-law will be here for the celebration, I'm really hoping that his older brother and Kay don't make it. We can tolerate his parents one on one, but when the older brother's family is around they're even worse.
And while all of this is running through my mind, I wonder, if I'm blowing things out of proportion. Should I be trying harder to stay in touch with them? Should I be encouraging Hubster to try and strengthen his family bonds? Am I overreacting, or am I justified in my feelings? Am I just becoming the bitter sister/daughter-in-law? I know I don't feel very Christian toward them at all. In fact, I've had many decidedly un-Christian thoughts toward them.
I told Bugster of my concerns this morning. She said, "Yeah, but Mom, maybe they don't know how to handle the pink elephants in the room" that are her little sisters. "Maybe they just don't know how to react, and so they react poorly".
And all I could think of is that pink elephants have feelings, too. And when our little pink elephants' hearts were crushed, when their countenance was fallen, our family of 5 banded together, huddled around them, and protected them.
Our herd may be small, but it is mighty.
Friday, July 9, 2010
TMI
The first time I met my father-in-law, he said something I've never been able to shake completely. I just found out today that it has affected my husband the same way. It still stings just a little every time we think of it.
We were going to a trade school that was just down the street from a convenience store. We didn't have much time for lunch, so when his dad said he wanted to meet me, we just met him at the convenience store, because we could grab lunch, have more time with him, and we didn't have to worry about being late getting back to class. We talked and laughed and joked for a few minutes, and out of the blue his dad started shaking his head and said, "I don't get it. How did you two get to know one another? You both talk so much I don't see how either of you got a word in edge-wise!"
We laughed, but I wanted to cry. I remember distinctly that I got that horrible lump in my throat that I get when I'm threatening to cry and trying to keep things under control. I believe I made some excuse about heading back to class, so I wouldn't be late, and we left together. I just remember choking back tears and feeling so very thankful that my future husband was by my side squeezing my hand in little spurts to let me know he knew I was hurting and that he was there for me.
My entire life, I've been told I talk too much. My first grade teacher remarked at her retirement party that her two favorite students in all of her years of teaching couldn't be more different. "One," she remarked, "I couldn't get to talk until halfway through the school year, and one I couldn't get to stop talking!" I was one of those students. My very, very shy younger brother was the other one. She retired many years after we had gone through her class, and she never once let on like either of our social styles bothered her in the least. She was an absolutely incredible teacher. She died several years ago, and I really miss her.
Later on I often got research papers and compositions returned to me in school with a minus after the letter grade, because it was too long. Yet I never knew exactly what I could cut out. It always seemed so important to me to include what I had included in the paper. And several years ago, a friend told me I was her 'most wordy friend'. Once again, it stung.
Today I was looking up information on a show called "I'm Pregnant And..." Each show is something different. I'm Pregnant And...Have Cancer, ...A Nudist, ...A Hoarder. Discovery Health is putting it out, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing the hoarder episode. I really hope that things have gone well for the woman, and I hope that she feels she can reach out, if she ever comes across my blog, but I digress...
While trying to find information on it, I stumbled across this article about hoarding on MyOptumHealth.com. For the most part it was stuff I'd already read before, but something struck me like a bolt of lightening in the list of symptoms in the article:
Symptoms common to hoarders include:
My husband then told me (as he has many times over the years) that he has so often wished he could stop himself from talking. That sometimes he feels powerless to do so. That he feels he has to finish his thought, or he'll look stupid, because what he said up to that point doesn't make any sense. I have so been there!
I was talking with Bugster about it, and she said she has had the same thing happen to her as well. And her entire life people have made comments about how much she talks or given her nicknames like, 'blabbermouth'.
I hate that. I really do. And I think of my throat catching that day when I met my future father-in-law, and I so wanted him to like me, and all he could do is comment about how much I talked. And how I felt belittled. And how I didn't want that for our girls, and yet he's done it to Bugster before, and he does it to Hopper every single time he sees her. And yet I don't know what to say about it.
For that matter, I don't know, if I could say anything over the lump that suddenly appears in my throat every time I hear it.
We were going to a trade school that was just down the street from a convenience store. We didn't have much time for lunch, so when his dad said he wanted to meet me, we just met him at the convenience store, because we could grab lunch, have more time with him, and we didn't have to worry about being late getting back to class. We talked and laughed and joked for a few minutes, and out of the blue his dad started shaking his head and said, "I don't get it. How did you two get to know one another? You both talk so much I don't see how either of you got a word in edge-wise!"
We laughed, but I wanted to cry. I remember distinctly that I got that horrible lump in my throat that I get when I'm threatening to cry and trying to keep things under control. I believe I made some excuse about heading back to class, so I wouldn't be late, and we left together. I just remember choking back tears and feeling so very thankful that my future husband was by my side squeezing my hand in little spurts to let me know he knew I was hurting and that he was there for me.
My entire life, I've been told I talk too much. My first grade teacher remarked at her retirement party that her two favorite students in all of her years of teaching couldn't be more different. "One," she remarked, "I couldn't get to talk until halfway through the school year, and one I couldn't get to stop talking!" I was one of those students. My very, very shy younger brother was the other one. She retired many years after we had gone through her class, and she never once let on like either of our social styles bothered her in the least. She was an absolutely incredible teacher. She died several years ago, and I really miss her.
Later on I often got research papers and compositions returned to me in school with a minus after the letter grade, because it was too long. Yet I never knew exactly what I could cut out. It always seemed so important to me to include what I had included in the paper. And several years ago, a friend told me I was her 'most wordy friend'. Once again, it stung.
Today I was looking up information on a show called "I'm Pregnant And..." Each show is something different. I'm Pregnant And...Have Cancer, ...A Nudist, ...A Hoarder. Discovery Health is putting it out, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing the hoarder episode. I really hope that things have gone well for the woman, and I hope that she feels she can reach out, if she ever comes across my blog, but I digress...
While trying to find information on it, I stumbled across this article about hoarding on MyOptumHealth.com. For the most part it was stuff I'd already read before, but something struck me like a bolt of lightening in the list of symptoms in the article:
Symptoms common to hoarders include:
- Indecision (e.g., whether to keep or save things)
- Fear about not having or losing something
- Distress about throwing things away or having them removed
- Perfectionism, which makes them avoid tasks and perform slowly
- Poor organizing skills
- Using too many details when talking
- Not letting people in their homes
- Anxiety
- Depression
My husband then told me (as he has many times over the years) that he has so often wished he could stop himself from talking. That sometimes he feels powerless to do so. That he feels he has to finish his thought, or he'll look stupid, because what he said up to that point doesn't make any sense. I have so been there!
I was talking with Bugster about it, and she said she has had the same thing happen to her as well. And her entire life people have made comments about how much she talks or given her nicknames like, 'blabbermouth'.
I hate that. I really do. And I think of my throat catching that day when I met my future father-in-law, and I so wanted him to like me, and all he could do is comment about how much I talked. And how I felt belittled. And how I didn't want that for our girls, and yet he's done it to Bugster before, and he does it to Hopper every single time he sees her. And yet I don't know what to say about it.
For that matter, I don't know, if I could say anything over the lump that suddenly appears in my throat every time I hear it.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Outlaws are wanted.
Sometimes I wonder why it's so much easier to forgive my parents/family for little things than it is for me to forgive my husband's family for little things. Although, I have to admit that the problems always seem bigger somehow with them.
I know that his parents love us. I do. But I never, ever feel good enough in their eyes. And I know my husband struggles with this as well. Because they're 'just' my inlaws and not my parents I don't think it affects me as much as it does my hubby, but it still affects me negatively. And when they are not supportive of my husband or my children it bothers me much more than when I'm on the receiving end. Maybe it's because I know I have the support from my own family and especially my husband.
My husband is out of town this weekend to see his parents and to attend a surprise birthday party for them. He said that when he walked through the door and they greeted him, the first thing out of his mom's mouth was, "Oh my god!" She was aghast at his beard. He has a beautiful white beard that he keeps neatly trimmed, (although to be honest, it does currently need a bit taken off the ends), and it suits him. Well.
The first several minutes of conversation were about his beard. He was told/asked (by his brothers, their wives and his parents):
1) It made him look 10 years older than he is.
2) They wondered what *I* thought of it, and thankfully, one of his sisters-in-law piped up and said she remembered having heard me say many times that I like it.
3) Doesn't his employer have a problem with it??
4) Doesn't he care what anyone else thinks about it or how he looks?
He hadn't seen his parents in 18 months, and he hadn't seen one brother in 3 years - the other in over 5, and he drove over 600 miles to see them yet this is how they greeted him. Not a single positive word about it except the one SIL saying that she knew I liked it. She also told him that he wouldn't want her trimming it, because she'd cut it off. She's a hairdresser. And I'm sure being as fashion conscious as she is, she couldn't stand the thought of it not being close shaven.
If it hadn't been his beard they picked to shreds, it would have been something else. Over the years they've done things that have hurt to the core. Things that I don't even want to think about, because I don't want to dwell on the feelings that they bring up. Things that would cause friendships to end and people to never speak to one another again.
I often marvel at how he is so different from his parents and wonder how they did such a good job raising him. Honestly, I can't fathom how they did it, because he is so kind-hearted. He would never, ever do the things that they have done over the years. He is mindful of the fact that actions and words can wound the spirit, and he doesn't want to do that to anyone else.
Given my hormones of late I'm glad we didn't go on the trip. I don't know, if I'd have been able to keep my mouth shut and not defended my husband. It's not that he needs defending. He can stick up for himself. But I'd be likely to put my 2 cents in to let them know that they were being rude and hurtful and to let him know I had his back. And yet they wonder why we don't spend much time at their house when we visit.
Today was hard on our middle daughter. She did end up finally having a meltdown, but it only lasted about 5 minutes or so, and she was done. I think things were just building for her, and she needed to let the stress out. Still, 5 minutes meltdowns are a vast improvement over 20 minute or 2 hour meltdowns.
Our youngest chimed in for a minute or so as well. They are very in tune with one another, and if one is upset the other one is as well. It is a rare thing when an aching heart doesn't spread from one to the other.
We are all looking forward to tomorrow. My wonderful husband, the kids' wonderful daddy will be home.
The hours won't pass quickly enough.
I know that his parents love us. I do. But I never, ever feel good enough in their eyes. And I know my husband struggles with this as well. Because they're 'just' my inlaws and not my parents I don't think it affects me as much as it does my hubby, but it still affects me negatively. And when they are not supportive of my husband or my children it bothers me much more than when I'm on the receiving end. Maybe it's because I know I have the support from my own family and especially my husband.
My husband is out of town this weekend to see his parents and to attend a surprise birthday party for them. He said that when he walked through the door and they greeted him, the first thing out of his mom's mouth was, "Oh my god!" She was aghast at his beard. He has a beautiful white beard that he keeps neatly trimmed, (although to be honest, it does currently need a bit taken off the ends), and it suits him. Well.
The first several minutes of conversation were about his beard. He was told/asked (by his brothers, their wives and his parents):
1) It made him look 10 years older than he is.
2) They wondered what *I* thought of it, and thankfully, one of his sisters-in-law piped up and said she remembered having heard me say many times that I like it.
3) Doesn't his employer have a problem with it??
4) Doesn't he care what anyone else thinks about it or how he looks?
He hadn't seen his parents in 18 months, and he hadn't seen one brother in 3 years - the other in over 5, and he drove over 600 miles to see them yet this is how they greeted him. Not a single positive word about it except the one SIL saying that she knew I liked it. She also told him that he wouldn't want her trimming it, because she'd cut it off. She's a hairdresser. And I'm sure being as fashion conscious as she is, she couldn't stand the thought of it not being close shaven.
If it hadn't been his beard they picked to shreds, it would have been something else. Over the years they've done things that have hurt to the core. Things that I don't even want to think about, because I don't want to dwell on the feelings that they bring up. Things that would cause friendships to end and people to never speak to one another again.
I often marvel at how he is so different from his parents and wonder how they did such a good job raising him. Honestly, I can't fathom how they did it, because he is so kind-hearted. He would never, ever do the things that they have done over the years. He is mindful of the fact that actions and words can wound the spirit, and he doesn't want to do that to anyone else.
Given my hormones of late I'm glad we didn't go on the trip. I don't know, if I'd have been able to keep my mouth shut and not defended my husband. It's not that he needs defending. He can stick up for himself. But I'd be likely to put my 2 cents in to let them know that they were being rude and hurtful and to let him know I had his back. And yet they wonder why we don't spend much time at their house when we visit.
Today was hard on our middle daughter. She did end up finally having a meltdown, but it only lasted about 5 minutes or so, and she was done. I think things were just building for her, and she needed to let the stress out. Still, 5 minutes meltdowns are a vast improvement over 20 minute or 2 hour meltdowns.
Our youngest chimed in for a minute or so as well. They are very in tune with one another, and if one is upset the other one is as well. It is a rare thing when an aching heart doesn't spread from one to the other.
We are all looking forward to tomorrow. My wonderful husband, the kids' wonderful daddy will be home.
The hours won't pass quickly enough.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
If I had my druthers...
The other day, my friend Susan asked me, if I'd rather be a hoarder or have a neat freak problem. I've been thinking about it ever since. Obviously, I'd rather not have either, but that wasn't the question. So..
Honestly? I'd rather having a hoarding problem, if I had to have either, although I sometimes think I have a combination of both. I at least have some of the OCD issues that a neat freak has, or I wouldn't alphabetize my spices or have to sort hangers. Yes. I alphabetize my spices. They're easier to find that way!
I don't mind my inlaws too much. I really don't. I've gotten to the point that I can disregard the majority of things that bother me about them. I hope they would do the same with me, but I think I bother them more than they bother me, but I digress. I've written before about my inlaws and how they don't exactly like me. I'm the complete opposite of them in so many ways, and I'm sure that has a lot to do with it.
My mother-in-law is a neat freak. No doubt in my mind. Everything has to be in it's place immediately after it's been used, which is fine and dandy and easy enough to do when it's just 2 of you in the household. (We have a really hard time implementing that one, though!) She never seems to relax when we're there. Even when she's sitting down, she looks around for whatever else it is she needs to clean and never seems to really be 'in the moment'.
I want to be able to live in the moment and actually enjoy my kids and my family. I want to be able to relax and be with them. And I do a fairly decent job at that. But I was also brought up knowing that I was supposed to get my chores done before I was supposed to go play. So even though I can relax a little more than my mother-in-law seems to, I too suffer from trying to figure out what I'll be tackling next on my ever growing to-do list as well. However, I can allow myself to just enjoy being with my family.
When my parents met my husband's parents, my father-in-law introduced his wife as 'the best housekeeper in the world'. Which is great. I'm glad he's proud of her. However, my dad always introduced my mom as his wonderful wife and talked about how she was the best mother us kids could have. Both Mom and Dad had experience with hoarding in their lives. Daddy collected little things that didn't take up as much room as what Mom collected, though. And both of them did a good job of keeping things neat, in spite of the fact that they had a lot of stuff. Still, when outsiders would blame anyone, they'd blame Mom for the boxes or the knick knacks that were displayed in the house.
Personally, I don't think it's anyone's business whether or not my parents had a lot of knick knacks or boxes stored in the house and garage. It was their lives and their home, and they had the right to do with their possessions as they saw fit. They loved each other and us kids with an intensity that is unrivaled. We were not well off, but I never knew it as a kid. Seriously. I didn't. My parents did an amazing job of making ends meet even when there was much more month than there was money. There was always room at Mom and Dad's for friends and loved ones who came in from out of town. They made room. And people felt welcome. And loved.
So if I use these the examples of neat freak and hoarder, I'll go with hoarder any day of the week. My husband doesn't introduce me as the best house keeper in the world, and I'm totally okay with that. But he does introduce me as the best mom and wife he or our kids could ask for. In spite of the hoarding and the clutter. And while people may be uncomfortable with the mess in our house, they know that, if they're in our home, that they're welcome. That they're loved.
For now, that's going to have to be good enough. Eventually, I hope to find my equilibrium and find a happy balance between hoarding and neat freak.
The scales are starting to tip, and I'm good with that.
Honestly? I'd rather having a hoarding problem, if I had to have either, although I sometimes think I have a combination of both. I at least have some of the OCD issues that a neat freak has, or I wouldn't alphabetize my spices or have to sort hangers. Yes. I alphabetize my spices. They're easier to find that way!
I don't mind my inlaws too much. I really don't. I've gotten to the point that I can disregard the majority of things that bother me about them. I hope they would do the same with me, but I think I bother them more than they bother me, but I digress. I've written before about my inlaws and how they don't exactly like me. I'm the complete opposite of them in so many ways, and I'm sure that has a lot to do with it.
My mother-in-law is a neat freak. No doubt in my mind. Everything has to be in it's place immediately after it's been used, which is fine and dandy and easy enough to do when it's just 2 of you in the household. (We have a really hard time implementing that one, though!) She never seems to relax when we're there. Even when she's sitting down, she looks around for whatever else it is she needs to clean and never seems to really be 'in the moment'.
I want to be able to live in the moment and actually enjoy my kids and my family. I want to be able to relax and be with them. And I do a fairly decent job at that. But I was also brought up knowing that I was supposed to get my chores done before I was supposed to go play. So even though I can relax a little more than my mother-in-law seems to, I too suffer from trying to figure out what I'll be tackling next on my ever growing to-do list as well. However, I can allow myself to just enjoy being with my family.
When my parents met my husband's parents, my father-in-law introduced his wife as 'the best housekeeper in the world'. Which is great. I'm glad he's proud of her. However, my dad always introduced my mom as his wonderful wife and talked about how she was the best mother us kids could have. Both Mom and Dad had experience with hoarding in their lives. Daddy collected little things that didn't take up as much room as what Mom collected, though. And both of them did a good job of keeping things neat, in spite of the fact that they had a lot of stuff. Still, when outsiders would blame anyone, they'd blame Mom for the boxes or the knick knacks that were displayed in the house.
Personally, I don't think it's anyone's business whether or not my parents had a lot of knick knacks or boxes stored in the house and garage. It was their lives and their home, and they had the right to do with their possessions as they saw fit. They loved each other and us kids with an intensity that is unrivaled. We were not well off, but I never knew it as a kid. Seriously. I didn't. My parents did an amazing job of making ends meet even when there was much more month than there was money. There was always room at Mom and Dad's for friends and loved ones who came in from out of town. They made room. And people felt welcome. And loved.
So if I use these the examples of neat freak and hoarder, I'll go with hoarder any day of the week. My husband doesn't introduce me as the best house keeper in the world, and I'm totally okay with that. But he does introduce me as the best mom and wife he or our kids could ask for. In spite of the hoarding and the clutter. And while people may be uncomfortable with the mess in our house, they know that, if they're in our home, that they're welcome. That they're loved.
For now, that's going to have to be good enough. Eventually, I hope to find my equilibrium and find a happy balance between hoarding and neat freak.
The scales are starting to tip, and I'm good with that.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Flip side of the same coin?
When I was a little girl, I was apparently a clean freak. Everything had to be in it's place. It had to be perfect. So it has been very frustrating to me that I can't seem to get away from this hoarding thing.
Still. It got me to thinking. Are they possibly opposite sides of the same coin?
My mother in law is a neat freak. It is fairly extreme, and it can be hard to feel comfortable when you're there. Like you're somehow infringing on a museum space. If you've been drinking a soda or a glass of water and get up to use the restroom, the glass is gone when you get back. It's either been washed and put away, or it's been rinsed and put in the dishwasher. No matter how many times it happens, you're never quite expecting it, and it always feels like you're not quite welcome.
And I know for a fact that the inlaws are not comfortable at our house. There's too much clutter for their taste, even when the house is clean. I understand that. I'm uncomfortable in my house sometimes, too. Certain times are worse than others, but I'm okay when I'm making headway in the dehoarding progress, or if there are rooms that are relatively clean but just a little messy. You know. Lived in.
I just can't help wondering, if they're the same disorder manifested in opposite ways.
It sure would explain how I now appear to be the polar opposite of a younger me.
Still. It got me to thinking. Are they possibly opposite sides of the same coin?
My mother in law is a neat freak. It is fairly extreme, and it can be hard to feel comfortable when you're there. Like you're somehow infringing on a museum space. If you've been drinking a soda or a glass of water and get up to use the restroom, the glass is gone when you get back. It's either been washed and put away, or it's been rinsed and put in the dishwasher. No matter how many times it happens, you're never quite expecting it, and it always feels like you're not quite welcome.
And I know for a fact that the inlaws are not comfortable at our house. There's too much clutter for their taste, even when the house is clean. I understand that. I'm uncomfortable in my house sometimes, too. Certain times are worse than others, but I'm okay when I'm making headway in the dehoarding progress, or if there are rooms that are relatively clean but just a little messy. You know. Lived in.
I just can't help wondering, if they're the same disorder manifested in opposite ways.
It sure would explain how I now appear to be the polar opposite of a younger me.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
I'm glad he's ours.
My husband and I have been married nearly 24 years. It's been a very good marriage, and we feel very blessed to have found one another. It's not often that you find someone who can tolerate your short comings so willingly and whose shortcomings you have a hard time seeing most days. We are best friends, and we are very thankful for one another.
That being said, I fear I fall quite short of the mark in his parents' eyes. I have for the last 25 years. I never have and never will measure up as far as they are concerned, and I am honestly okay with that. I am all my husband needs or wants, and that's really all that matters. Still, it hurts when they are judgmental or full of condemnation toward me.
The other night, they called my husband to say that they'd be driving through town. They live several hundred miles away from us, and they don't visit often. They wanted to come to our house to see how we were progressing on our basement projects after having been flooded last Spring. He said that he didn't want to put me in that sort of position, and that we could meet them somewhere for lunch, but he didn't want them coming to the house.
He said his mom started kind of going off on me. That she basically blamed me for the entire mess we're in, and that they knew he had nothing to do with it. He got a bit irritated and told her that it was NOT all my fault. There are 4 of us living in the house, and all 4 of us have our own hoarding or OCD issues and add to the mess, and it's not fair to put it all on my shoulders. While I was saddened that he had words with his mom, it made me feel so good knowing he has my back and always has.
Honestly, I'm not sure how he turned out to be such a wonderful person with the condemnation he had growing up. Instead of an 'atta boy' when he got good grades, he got an 'it's about time'. It didn't change after we got married, either. I have heard only one time from them in the almost 23 years we've been parents that we're doing a good job. Once.
Needless to say, I'm not going to be sharing this blog with them. I know that in their own odd way that they do love me, they love the kids, even though they don't like being around them for more than an hour or two, and they love my husband. But I also know that I can't handle the stress and/or condemnation that may come from it, and we'll invite them to our home when we're ready.
I'm just glad my husband is the man he is. They obviously did something right! He's an amazing person, and I'm glad he's ours!
That being said, I fear I fall quite short of the mark in his parents' eyes. I have for the last 25 years. I never have and never will measure up as far as they are concerned, and I am honestly okay with that. I am all my husband needs or wants, and that's really all that matters. Still, it hurts when they are judgmental or full of condemnation toward me.
The other night, they called my husband to say that they'd be driving through town. They live several hundred miles away from us, and they don't visit often. They wanted to come to our house to see how we were progressing on our basement projects after having been flooded last Spring. He said that he didn't want to put me in that sort of position, and that we could meet them somewhere for lunch, but he didn't want them coming to the house.
He said his mom started kind of going off on me. That she basically blamed me for the entire mess we're in, and that they knew he had nothing to do with it. He got a bit irritated and told her that it was NOT all my fault. There are 4 of us living in the house, and all 4 of us have our own hoarding or OCD issues and add to the mess, and it's not fair to put it all on my shoulders. While I was saddened that he had words with his mom, it made me feel so good knowing he has my back and always has.
Honestly, I'm not sure how he turned out to be such a wonderful person with the condemnation he had growing up. Instead of an 'atta boy' when he got good grades, he got an 'it's about time'. It didn't change after we got married, either. I have heard only one time from them in the almost 23 years we've been parents that we're doing a good job. Once.
Needless to say, I'm not going to be sharing this blog with them. I know that in their own odd way that they do love me, they love the kids, even though they don't like being around them for more than an hour or two, and they love my husband. But I also know that I can't handle the stress and/or condemnation that may come from it, and we'll invite them to our home when we're ready.
I'm just glad my husband is the man he is. They obviously did something right! He's an amazing person, and I'm glad he's ours!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)