life, apparently

seen first at timna's

Labels: wastin' time

go read this

Labels: politics

I think I'm going to make an offer on a house today. It has a gigantic in-ground pool that is newly renovated and beautiful by all accounts. A rare luxury in NewCity.

Problem: I don't swim.

My father's birthday was last week and I didn't acknowledge it.

Here's the story. My parents were married very young (age 15 & 18) and purposefully had children two years after they were married. [My mom's 30th birthday was quite a production and I remember every detail because I was in high school. Isn't that crazy? I turned 30 a year after my son's birth and almost no one noticed.] They divorced when I was 5 and my mom left custody to my dad because he had a reliable job (she had never had a job) and a house (which I assume she didn't think or want to fight for in court). She still feels guilty about this decision. My father was abusive. My mother didn't know or didn't recognize his behavior as abuse (which is not surprising given her own father, after all my sister and I never required medical care unlike her and her sisters). My father was (and still is as far as I know) an alcoholic and drug addict and dealer. It is not the physical abuse that haunts me. I without any question received the vast majority of abuse (in fact, I'm not so sure my sister would claim to have been abused herself) but I always viewed it as 1) protecting my sister and step-sisters and 2) as his problem - I had a keen awareness that I (all of us really) were quite good children and that he must be so angry for reasons unrelated to us. What haunts me is the abandonment. In 6th grade I ran away (all the way across the street) and decided that I wanted to move it with my mother (who was just about to get remarried and had what appeared to be a stable life finally). As it turns out I ran away on Father's Day and my father told me that day that if I left, he'd never speak to me again. He also demanded a reason. I told him it was the drug abuse and he denied using drugs. So I told him it was because I didn't like my step-mom (which was actually true but not reason enough to move out). He did speak to me again. My sister moved with me but not because she wanted to, really, but because she didn't want to be alone (she was always a daddy's girl). We did the every-other-weekend thing for a while but soon after the move I was banned from returning because I was too mouthy. They went on vacation without me, celebrated holidays, etc. I can't exactly remember how long my sister continued visitation but I think it was pretty much until she had her first serious high school sweetheart and decided that weekends were for boyfriends instead of dads.

My dad had a sort of interesting approach to keeping in contact with me after the move. He sometimes sent birthday and Christmas cards and/or gifts. He sometimes didn't. He sometimes sent these for my sister (her birthday is less than a month after mine) but not me. I can't tell you how many holidays ended with a good long cry wondering why I wasn't important enough for my own father to remember.

Before my wedding (almost 5 years ago) I spent many sleepless nights wondering what I'd do if my father failed to show up at my wedding. I decided not to invite him and I sent him a letter (a year in advance) informing him why and telling him that he had a choice. He could continue his behavior as is or he could chose to perform the bare minimum duties of fatherhood and contact me on holidays and even (gasp!) on an occasional non-holiday. We talked on the phone after I sent him the letter and I could tell that he was upset about it. He apologized and explained that this was how he thought a father should behave, it was what his father taught him. His philosophy was that he sent me into he world prepared for anything and I would contact him if I needed anything. (In fact, he was always eager to respond to a request for anything (usually money) a fact my sister took full advantage of. I do have this semi-bizarre sense that my father would do anything I asked of him except just being a father and or a grandfather.) His behavior did not change and I did not invite him to my wedding.

That was really a life changing event for me. I (for the most part) lost my guilt over not being the perfect daughter and lost some sense of embarrassment/shame/? that I wasn't good enough for my own father to love (though not all of it). Until my son was born. Then I felt some obligation to try to allow him to be a grandfather. I sent pictures and notes. He sent cards and money the first year. Nothing the second year and then this year he sent via overnight mail so it arrived in time, a birthday card, note, temporary tatoos, and money. And a Christmas card and money. I never responded. I thought about it but I don't want to play games anymore. I told him pre-wedding that he has to be in or out of my life I can't take anything in the middle. So Christmas passed with no card or call and his birthday passed with a twinge of guilt but no card or call. I worry that when he dies I will not recover from a surge of guilt, shame, sadness, etc. but I push that away for now and focus on ensuring that my son knows that I love him endlessly with no reservations (despite the fact that he is of the .05% of toddlers who clearly and unquestionably prefer their father to their mother for any and every event in life*).

*no I'm not bitter or jealous, why do you ask?

Labels: Thursday Confessions

(in the car on the way home)

TheKid: Tell me wha-chou need mama.*

apparently: I don't need anything TheKid. I'm good, thanks!

TheKid: You need da popcorn mama?

TheKid: Here, here da popcorn fo you mama [handing me imaginary popcorn].

apparently: mmm, that is good popcorn! I did need that! Thank you TheKid!



*don't ask me where this came from

Labels: cuteness is genetic, parenting awards

During the past 2 weeks, TheKid has adopted all sorts of new sayings. He has started declaring things he loves and things he does not love. His inaugural profession of love for the one who lugged him around in utero with 5 months of "morning" sickness and 4 months of 24-hour heartburn went like this:

TheKid: I wuv mama

apparently: speechless while reveling in the adorableness of this sweet sweet child, total time of 0.045 seconds

TheKid: I wuv my backet ball whoop

Labels: cuteness is genetic, parenting awards

I've had so much to say the past week or so that I've said nothing because I don't know where to start. Today is apparently mow the lawn and cut the trees day. It took me about an hour to drive to my office, weaving around various lawn mowing companies with 20-something boys smoking cigarettes while standing next to big trucks, fail to find a parking space without a 'do not park here' sign, and return back home. And so, I am annoyed and resort to blogging rather than anything requiring thought and/or effort.

• Visit to FriendWithKids was eventFUL. Turns out our kids don't play together so well. OldestBlondeBoy was happy to share as long as toys being shared were chosen by him and played with as directed. TheKid is not so good at following directions, especially those given by a 3 yr old and of course only wanted to play with toys OBB had in his hand. Instead TheKid decided to steal from, push, and maybe even step on TallBabyBoy. TBB on the other hand was a perfect angel. If TheKid was so well behaved at 11 months I would have had 2 more by now.
• FriendWithRestlessLeg had remarkably restful legs and I must say is a brave soul. I would surely have lost my mind if I spent days with other peoples misbeavin' kids.
• Father of TBB and OBB is a saint. He voluntarily spent the entire day with all 3 kids so us girls could go to TheBigCity. I have to say it was a pretty great, if a bit cold, day (for us, not so much for him).
• Flight home was cancelled with no announcement. When we checked-in the board said 'on time'. We found food, found the gate, and hung out until I got nervous when there was no plane, no gate agents, and the sign said some destination other than home, at 10 minutes til departure. I went to investigate (expecting a gate change) and found out that our flight was cancelled. They tried all kinds of crazy re-routing including taking a taxi to other airport and flying home, taking a taxi to yet a different airport and flying directly to GradSchool, waiting until tomorrow, etc. I had made the mistake of truthfully informing ticketing agent that TheKid was 2. After 30 minutes of trying to put me in a taxi or a hotel, a supervisor came over, pushed a few buttons, and said to me "He [TheKid] is under 2, right?" to which I enthusiastically responded "YES" and we were on the next flight home. I wasn't exactly thrilled about holding a sleeping, grouchy, dirty* kid on my lap for the flight home but I was happy that I'd still catch my flight to GradSchool.
• My connection was now too close to walk out exchange Kid for computer and re-enter through security so the wonderful ticketing people at America West arranged for TheHusband to get a gate pass (who knew this was even possible post 9-11? really, who knew?). We met at the gate and like Superman I removed one child, one backpack, and one coat handed them to TheHusband, spun around, and accepted one computer and one carryon then dashed off for my other flight.
  
• Of course that flight (which was originally delayed 1.5 hours) was now delayed another 1.5 hours. When I arrived at the gate, many angry people were talking to the gate agent and I learned that there was no pilot and no flight attendants, thus the delay. Early morning flight was full but mid afternoon flight had seats. I decided that I could not spend any more time in any airport, called TheHusband before he left, and exchanged my ticket for afternoon flight.
  
• Luckily (?) TheKid's luggage was lost so TheHusband hadn't left because he was still waiting for it to come flying down the ramp.
  
• We filed a lost luggage form and went home.
  
• As soon as we arrived, TheHusband called airline and they confirmed me on early morning flight (rather than afternoon flight) and booked me a taxi.
  
• Flight to GradSchool was fine** (shortened) trip was great.
• Return flight, as you might have guessed by now, was delayed 3.5 hours. I had 2 gigantic margaritas (what else to do?) and caught up on some blog reading.
  

*TheKid and 5 yr old MilesfromNewState were the best of friends at the airport. They played a game where MfNS rolled (most of the time anyway) a ball to TheKid, then ran down to retrieve the ball before TheKid could, and handed it to TheKid. TheKid then rolled (and/or threw) the ball to MfNS's end of the airport with a 50% chance of hitting an innocent bystander before MfNS had time to run back to his station at the other end of the airport and retrieve the ball. Some people were not happy. At all. Especially when they were hit in the head with the ball. It was foam, so I wasn't too worried. No one actually complained to me, so I pretended not to notice. I figured being hit in the head by a foam ball was better than listening to a 2yr old scream and throw himself to the ground. Maybe some people disagreed, I don't know and honestly I don't care.

**Although when I arrived at the airport they announced that they needed 5 people to volunteer to be bumped (of a 30 person flight) and that our flight crew was not present and we would be delayed. I nearly freaked out. Somehow everything magically resolved itself when I went to the restroom and though we took off late, we actually arrived early.

Labels: airports, whining