I'm as good at frequent blogging as I am at frequent journaling. Or frequent window-washing. Bah. I've really been trying to stay positive about life in general, not just about family stuff, but it's difficult with financial stresses and all, too. I'm still not in the Christmas mood, which is unusual for me. I usually can hardly wait for Christmas beginning with the day after Thanksgiving, but I'm a bit of a scrooge this year. A few weeks ago on our way to church, I turned the radio off because I was just not ready to hear Christmas music. Not yet. I think it was the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Christina loves listening to the Christmas music, though, and trying to sing along. So we listen to it at home. And in the car. And it's usually playing in the different grocery stores we frequent. I think the only place I have been able to escape the reminders of Christmas - Christmas music, decorations, lights, etc - is at Paul's grandma's house. This has changed, because she now has her tree, decorations, and lights up. No Christmas music yet.
I'm hoping that something changes soon. We are trying to sell a car, which would help with some financial issues, and would also allow us to give a different caliber of Christmas gift this year. Not "better," I guess, because any gift given from the heart is a good gift, but *different* gifts. For most of the years we've been married, Paul & I have given hand-made cookies/candies/breads for Christmas gifts. I can only think of one year when we bought gifts instead of making them. It just sounds more fun right now to go to a store and pick out individual gifts for individual people.
Maybe it sounds more fun right now because my body has been aching for the last few weeks or so. A dr appt earlier this month affirmed that the RA meds are not working as effectively as they were when I first began swallowing them. So now I have more pills to swallow, and hopefully that will kick everything into high gear. If it doesn't, then the dr suggests biologics, which doesn't sound very fun or economical. Paul says if that's what it takes to fix me, though, then that's what we should do. I don't like being a physical or financial burden, though. And I know I'm not really a burden and no one sees me as a burden, but when I can't do EVERYTHING for myself, I start seeing myself as needy, pathetic, and incapable. Harsh, eh?
And I've been really bummed lately that it's not safe to have another baby for a while. If increasing my existing meds and adding a new med is all it takes to beat the RA into submission - I mean remission - I'll still have to be on the meds until Sept 2012, at least, and then we have to wait for at least 3 months before planning another baby. I did the math the other night - another sleepless, restless night. Christina would be 5 and Hope would be 3 at the YOUNGEST before we could hold another little bundle in our arms. And that's assuming that these meds work, I *only* have to be on them until Sept (this was the dr's original guess, before the medicine started not treating me as effectively), and we conceive right away. Gah. It's just another thing I try not to think about, but when my mind can't shut down at night, I just can't help but remember. The positive aspect of this, though, is that Hope would likely be potty-trained and Christina would be more independent - able to entertain herself by reading, writing, coloring, etc. Maybe it's a blessing that we have to wait for a while?
On the positive side, I have been having fun making apple rings lately. Christina absolutely loves them, and Paul & I enjoy them quite a bit too. So far I've been drying them plain - no cinnamon or nutmeg or anything like that. We've used Gala, Golden Delicious, Red Delicious, and Fuji apples so far. Maybe Honeycrisp, too. Paul's grandma picked them up from the orchard for us. We have discovered that Christina prefers them thicker and chewier, while Paul really enjoys them thin and crunchy. I like them both ways. Quite convenient, 'cause then I have access to more deliciousness! :) I tried giving Hope a few tiny pieces, but she choked/gagged on them, so I think we'll have to wait until she gets molars.
I also dehydrated some venison and made venison jerky. I think it's quite tasty. Paul likes the taste but thought it was a bit dry. I'm planning to make some beef jerky soon, too. I may sprinkle some cinnamon on some apple rings and give that a try this week, for a little variety. Later today I will bake my first whole turkey ever! That should be exciting. I'm planning to carve the breast off after baking and slice for sandwiches. I'm hoping we'll have lots to freeze for sandwiches in January and February, too. We all like turkey sandwiches pretty well, and I've got lots and lots of homemade pickles to enjoy with them. Turkey sandwiches will be a nice change from peanut butter & jelly/honey and "cheese-cheese" sandwiches. The dark meat we will eat with traditional "Thanksgiving" foods. I am looking forward to the following dinner tomorrow night: turkey, squash, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, corn, and apple rings. I may even go crazy and bake Paul an apple pie. Shh. Don't tell him. Just in case it doesn't happen. Yes, we will have lots of food to eat; if anyone wants to come over, let me know. :)
Oh! Also last week I tried making elderberry jelly, but it hasn't set up yet. Did I just try one batch to see if it worked? Oh, no. No, not me. I made 5 batches and yep! None of it has set. So I'll be re-doing it later this week or early next week. It's mostly fun, though. Only about 10% frustrating. All-in-all I've really enjoyed home-preserving this year. It's been wonderful to see my pantry and freezers fill up with food. And a special blessing to know that if worse came to worse, we may grow weary of eating the same food over and over again, but we would definitely not be hungry for a long time.
My post began crabby and depressing, but has ended a bit more positively. I think I've vented most of my frustrations now, so I'll head back to bed soon and see if I can sleep.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Picking again
It's just one of those nights cause it's just been one of those weeks. And now I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep because I reached for the caffeine pick-me-up too late in the day so I'm all jittery. Today - well, yesterday, really - was my dad's birthday. It's been almost 2 years now since I've seen him. Sometimes I wish dates didn't stick with me so well; I doubt I'll ever forget the date I last saw all of my family. But on the positive side of the whole 'numbers-sticking-with-me' thing, I remember positive dates, too, such as Paul's & my first date 10 years ago. The anniversary was Wednesday.
So, anyway, I find myself awake at an unfortunate hour, rehashing, rereading messages, reliving pain, and unable to stop the whirlwind exploding in my mind. I'm hoping that writing this all out will help the voices to die down. I'm feeling hurt, as I'm sure everyone in this situation feels. I guess my pain only seems more real, more tangible, more immense because I, obviously, experience it first-hand, instead of trying to empathize with the other parties involved.
I was looking forward to the holidays coming up; not Halloween so much. I don't really care for Halloween, but I do enjoy Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Over the last few weeks I had been feeling really positive - generally speaking - about life. We've paid off some debt, I've been canning Grandma King's garden abundance, Paul just killed a deer a few days ago, Christina is printing T, H, and I, Hope is starting to talk a bit more, and trying to take a few steps here and there. We have much to be thankful for this year. And it hit me tonight that I'll likely not see my family again this year. And that makes me sad. I guess by now it's a mutual decision. I'm fairly certain my parents won't be changing their stance on things, and I'm not changing mine, so we're at a bit of a standstill. It is what it is, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.
We have church in the morning, thank goodness. Church usually helps me gain perspective again and realize that I really am blessed, even when I'm feeling surrounded by darkness. Here's hoping a happy attitude returns with the morning light.
So, anyway, I find myself awake at an unfortunate hour, rehashing, rereading messages, reliving pain, and unable to stop the whirlwind exploding in my mind. I'm hoping that writing this all out will help the voices to die down. I'm feeling hurt, as I'm sure everyone in this situation feels. I guess my pain only seems more real, more tangible, more immense because I, obviously, experience it first-hand, instead of trying to empathize with the other parties involved.
I was looking forward to the holidays coming up; not Halloween so much. I don't really care for Halloween, but I do enjoy Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Over the last few weeks I had been feeling really positive - generally speaking - about life. We've paid off some debt, I've been canning Grandma King's garden abundance, Paul just killed a deer a few days ago, Christina is printing T, H, and I, Hope is starting to talk a bit more, and trying to take a few steps here and there. We have much to be thankful for this year. And it hit me tonight that I'll likely not see my family again this year. And that makes me sad. I guess by now it's a mutual decision. I'm fairly certain my parents won't be changing their stance on things, and I'm not changing mine, so we're at a bit of a standstill. It is what it is, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.
We have church in the morning, thank goodness. Church usually helps me gain perspective again and realize that I really am blessed, even when I'm feeling surrounded by darkness. Here's hoping a happy attitude returns with the morning light.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Sheesh. I haven't blogged since the end of July? Yowza. I'd like to say it's because everything is finally resolved, I have reconnected with my family, the pain has melted away, and all is right with the world. However, I'm embracing truth, and the truth is that life is not always so easy. Life is messy, and though there is forgiveness, there also exists fallout. Fallout for right actions and fallout for wrong actions. Karma. Consequences. Whatever you want to term it, that's what I'd say I'm living right now. I think about this often, forgiveness and consequences and fallout and aftermath. Think about insanity and indecisiveness, pain and confusion. Feeling lost.
Thankfully most nights I can cast away these thoughts and just be lost in God's comfort and promises. Tonight, however, is one where I simply cannot get my mind to switch off. No matter how hard I try (and that is probably the problem - that I am *trying*) I simply cannot call off thoughts awhile. Cannot give comfort rootroom. Bleh. I keep replaying conversations, situations, scenarios. Keep imagining responses to possible confrontations that will likely not happen within the next year. I suppose in a way it's funny, but I'm not seeing the humor at the moment.
On a positive note, I have started some Rx treatment for the RA that was a pain in just about every joint of my body. AND the Rx seem to be working. I can fit into my wedding rings again; I hadn't been able to wear them since around Christmastime last year because they would cut off the circulation in my finger, causing it to go numb. So, I am very happy to be able to don the oftentimes only jewelry items I wear. However, taking the Rx means that I had to wean Hope, which was so much more painful - emotionally AND physically - than I remembered it being when I weaned Christina. I guess I blocked that pain just as effectively as I blocked labor pains. And I think weaning Christina was probably less emotionally difficult because it was a much more gradual process, instead of cold-turkey. I imagine it was physically less painful because I simply transitioned from breastfeeding to being pregnant, so everything was tender, anyway. And now that my body has almost gotten the point that it does not need to produce milk anymore, I am left with two very empty-looking breasts. I never thought I would be one to lament breast size, but this has really been difficult for me. I told Paul the other day that I looked like a steamroller had run over me. He responded by reminding me of the Ron White joke about the old biker chick. NOT helpful, though he was just trying to make me laugh, I know. I'm not even sure why I'm blabbering along about this, other than a blatant attempt to get someone to say, "it's okay, Chrystal. Size doesn't matter. Be happy that you nursed your babies" and all that. And I am very happy that I nursed my babies; I knew going into this that my body would change and things would shift around, blah, blah, blah. It's just not very comforting to tell myself "I told you this would happen, why are you all upset about it now?" Paul reminds me that the RA has been pretty hard on my body, too, and I've dropped A LOT of weight, so my body fat percentage is probably all out of whack and as I continue to get healthier, I'll probably put the weight on and feel better about myself. Maybe he is right, and maybe I just need to go invest in some nice padded push-up bras.
That was all probably an over-share.
Another positive note is that I've been canning again this year. I started canning during the fall of '07, I believe it was. And I canned at least a little - salsa, tomatoes, spaghetti sauce, pickles - every year since then, except I didn't can AT ALL last year. I was simply exhausted carrying Hope around in my tummy 24/7, and chasing Christina around during the waking hours. But Kellie, my wonderful MIL canned quite a few jars of tomatoes and tomato juice for us, which was so thoughtful and helped stretch the food budget a bit this past year. So far this year my canning activity has included the following: tomatoes, grape jelly that probably will need to be reprocessed as it still has not jelled, apple halves and slices, applesauce (which tastes SO much better than the store-bought stuff, even if running it through the food mill did wreak havoc on my shoulder - I DO NOT like peels in my applesauce), apricot sauce, and juice base (I canned the liquid that I boiled the apples and apricots in - Paul's aunt says it makes an excellent foundation for party punch, so I figured it's better than letting it go to waste). Tomorrow we will tackle tomato soup as well as another batch or two of tomatoes. Later this week we will probably tackle peaches, too. Next year I may grow a little garden of my own - probably a few tomato plants, fresh herbs, and maybe green beans - so I'm not just limited to relative's garden surpluses.
Anyhow, if anyone out in blogger-land was wondering where I've been, for a while the RA was too severe and typing on the computer for any length of time was quite painful, so I neglected my poor, lonely blog. Within the last few weeks I've been feeling much better and have been much busier than previously simply because I am feeling SO MUCH BETTER, so again my blog went neglected. Tonight's insomnia was too insistent for me to lie in bed hopelessly awake, so I decided to search for coupon deals on the interwebs and post an update . Happy October, everyone. :)
Thankfully most nights I can cast away these thoughts and just be lost in God's comfort and promises. Tonight, however, is one where I simply cannot get my mind to switch off. No matter how hard I try (and that is probably the problem - that I am *trying*) I simply cannot call off thoughts awhile. Cannot give comfort rootroom. Bleh. I keep replaying conversations, situations, scenarios. Keep imagining responses to possible confrontations that will likely not happen within the next year. I suppose in a way it's funny, but I'm not seeing the humor at the moment.
On a positive note, I have started some Rx treatment for the RA that was a pain in just about every joint of my body. AND the Rx seem to be working. I can fit into my wedding rings again; I hadn't been able to wear them since around Christmastime last year because they would cut off the circulation in my finger, causing it to go numb. So, I am very happy to be able to don the oftentimes only jewelry items I wear. However, taking the Rx means that I had to wean Hope, which was so much more painful - emotionally AND physically - than I remembered it being when I weaned Christina. I guess I blocked that pain just as effectively as I blocked labor pains. And I think weaning Christina was probably less emotionally difficult because it was a much more gradual process, instead of cold-turkey. I imagine it was physically less painful because I simply transitioned from breastfeeding to being pregnant, so everything was tender, anyway. And now that my body has almost gotten the point that it does not need to produce milk anymore, I am left with two very empty-looking breasts. I never thought I would be one to lament breast size, but this has really been difficult for me. I told Paul the other day that I looked like a steamroller had run over me. He responded by reminding me of the Ron White joke about the old biker chick. NOT helpful, though he was just trying to make me laugh, I know. I'm not even sure why I'm blabbering along about this, other than a blatant attempt to get someone to say, "it's okay, Chrystal. Size doesn't matter. Be happy that you nursed your babies" and all that. And I am very happy that I nursed my babies; I knew going into this that my body would change and things would shift around, blah, blah, blah. It's just not very comforting to tell myself "I told you this would happen, why are you all upset about it now?" Paul reminds me that the RA has been pretty hard on my body, too, and I've dropped A LOT of weight, so my body fat percentage is probably all out of whack and as I continue to get healthier, I'll probably put the weight on and feel better about myself. Maybe he is right, and maybe I just need to go invest in some nice padded push-up bras.
That was all probably an over-share.
Another positive note is that I've been canning again this year. I started canning during the fall of '07, I believe it was. And I canned at least a little - salsa, tomatoes, spaghetti sauce, pickles - every year since then, except I didn't can AT ALL last year. I was simply exhausted carrying Hope around in my tummy 24/7, and chasing Christina around during the waking hours. But Kellie, my wonderful MIL canned quite a few jars of tomatoes and tomato juice for us, which was so thoughtful and helped stretch the food budget a bit this past year. So far this year my canning activity has included the following: tomatoes, grape jelly that probably will need to be reprocessed as it still has not jelled, apple halves and slices, applesauce (which tastes SO much better than the store-bought stuff, even if running it through the food mill did wreak havoc on my shoulder - I DO NOT like peels in my applesauce), apricot sauce, and juice base (I canned the liquid that I boiled the apples and apricots in - Paul's aunt says it makes an excellent foundation for party punch, so I figured it's better than letting it go to waste). Tomorrow we will tackle tomato soup as well as another batch or two of tomatoes. Later this week we will probably tackle peaches, too. Next year I may grow a little garden of my own - probably a few tomato plants, fresh herbs, and maybe green beans - so I'm not just limited to relative's garden surpluses.
Anyhow, if anyone out in blogger-land was wondering where I've been, for a while the RA was too severe and typing on the computer for any length of time was quite painful, so I neglected my poor, lonely blog. Within the last few weeks I've been feeling much better and have been much busier than previously simply because I am feeling SO MUCH BETTER, so again my blog went neglected. Tonight's insomnia was too insistent for me to lie in bed hopelessly awake, so I decided to search for coupon deals on the interwebs and post an update . Happy October, everyone. :)
Friday, July 29, 2011
Giving Up
I just realized I need to give up something. I pick at things. Peeling paint. Scabs. My scalp when I'm nervous or stressed. Actually, Paul has pointed this out several times, especially picking at myself when I'm nervous/stressed. However, I just realized I also tend to pick at my emotions. I re-live unpleasant conversations/situations and the way I felt about them. Not just once or twice. Repeatedly for years after.
If anyone else has noticed a struggle with similar issues, how have you dealt with it? What has helped or is helping you?
If anyone else has noticed a struggle with similar issues, how have you dealt with it? What has helped or is helping you?
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Playing Dress-up
Am I the only woman who remembers playing dress-up? Christina loves to play dress-up; she'll sneak into the clean laundry and put on one of Paul's or my shirts and prance around in her "gown" (she thinks she's one of the Disney princesses). She's been obsessed with shoes - particularly mine - since she figured out how to walk, and loves clopping around the house in my abandoned heels. As she struts around she beams at me, "Mommy, I'm a PRINcess!" It's delightful. I love the sparkle in her eye; I love that she feels beautiful and knows Mommy agrees she's beautiful.
A couple days ago I celebrated, if you can really call it that, the second anniversary of my 25th birthday. This summer will be 10 years since my relationship with Paul began. I have two beautiful daughters. And I feel like I'm still playing dress-up
Twenty-seven *shudder* just sounds so old. Life certainly isn't what I thought it would be by the time I was in my late 20's. For one thing, I figured I'd have another child or two by now. I thought I'd have my college loans all paid back (keep in mind, a lot of these "thought I'd have"s are from my blissfully idealogical teenage years). I just assumed I'd own my own home by the time my 30s were approaching. I guess I just thought I'd be more "put together" than I currently feel.
I look in the mirror and notice a few wrinkles around my eyes. I haven't found any gray hairs yet, but that could be due to the wonderful job my hairstylist does with highlights. I see the ever-present dark circles cradling my eyes. But as I look at this tired reflection, I feel like if I passed myself in the grocery store, I'd never guess I had two kids. Or that I'd been married almost 7 years. In some ways, I suppose, I still see myself as an care-free teenager. I remember when I was almost finished with college and bought a couple nice business suits for the interviews that were sure to follow. I felt like I was playing dress-up. Like I was some little girl posing as a powerful businesswoman. Today I feel like a little girl pretending she's a good mommy.
A couple days ago I celebrated, if you can really call it that, the second anniversary of my 25th birthday. This summer will be 10 years since my relationship with Paul began. I have two beautiful daughters. And I feel like I'm still playing dress-up
Twenty-seven *shudder* just sounds so old. Life certainly isn't what I thought it would be by the time I was in my late 20's. For one thing, I figured I'd have another child or two by now. I thought I'd have my college loans all paid back (keep in mind, a lot of these "thought I'd have"s are from my blissfully idealogical teenage years). I just assumed I'd own my own home by the time my 30s were approaching. I guess I just thought I'd be more "put together" than I currently feel.
I look in the mirror and notice a few wrinkles around my eyes. I haven't found any gray hairs yet, but that could be due to the wonderful job my hairstylist does with highlights. I see the ever-present dark circles cradling my eyes. But as I look at this tired reflection, I feel like if I passed myself in the grocery store, I'd never guess I had two kids. Or that I'd been married almost 7 years. In some ways, I suppose, I still see myself as an care-free teenager. I remember when I was almost finished with college and bought a couple nice business suits for the interviews that were sure to follow. I felt like I was playing dress-up. Like I was some little girl posing as a powerful businesswoman. Today I feel like a little girl pretending she's a good mommy.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Calloused, or Steadfast?
Oh, it's been a while since I've posted here. Besides the busy-ness of family life, we've had a death, a graduation, a birthday celebration, and a Mother's day celebration. These are not much of an excuse, though, since they actually all happened within about 2 weeks of each other. Oh, my. By the time life seems to settle down, I think I'll be well into my 70s or so.
I've been thinking lately about my decisions regarding my family - not having contact with them. To me, I feel like I am being steadfast in doing what I believe is best for me, my children, and my husband. But to the outsider looking in, I wonder if I appear cold and calloused. We do not invite my parents or siblings to our family get-togethers. I'd really prefer that they actually don't know where I live right now. I trusted my mom to not give my mailing address to the guy who molested me, and within a couple weeks of her promising she had not given it to him, I received mail from him. I cannot trust her to keep her promises (this is not the only time she has defaulted on her word to me) so I feel it's saner for me to just not tell her where I am living.
I get sick of people preaching tolerance for immorality. I've heard time and time again that I ought to forgive my offender because Jesus loves him and Jesus will forgive him if only he asks and repents. This is true. I believe that God has the power to forgive anyone of any sin if that person is truly repentant. I also believe, however, that there are still consequences of our sin. I don't believe that God just hands us cherry-flavored lollipops all day long, no matter what we do or don't do. I think we screw up and we have to deal with the outcomes.
Paul & I were discussing something along these lines over brunch yesterday. Specifically, that Jesus did preach to adulterers, tax collectors, Samaritans, those people that were not fit for the leaders of the synagogue, and whoever all else, to talk to. But he called them to change, to cast down their nets and follow him. He didn't tarry in the bad parts of town. He might stop and preach a bit, maybe heal a person or two, but he kept on the move. He was very nomadic.
It's a complicated idea, I guess; how God loves us just as we are, but at the same time calls us to change our ways and turn away from our sinful nature. I don't believe that we should surround ourselves with immoral people, or people who surround themselves with immoral people. Iron sharpens iron; like dissolves like. I still feel like I am doing right for my family - my kids and my husband - I just wonder how it appears to the outsider looking in on my life, who maybe doesn't have all the facts. It doesn't really matter, I guess, since if I KNOW I am doing what God has lead me to, all other opinions fall to the wayside. But still, I'm curious. Like a cat. It's why my friends call me whiskers. ;)
I've been thinking lately about my decisions regarding my family - not having contact with them. To me, I feel like I am being steadfast in doing what I believe is best for me, my children, and my husband. But to the outsider looking in, I wonder if I appear cold and calloused. We do not invite my parents or siblings to our family get-togethers. I'd really prefer that they actually don't know where I live right now. I trusted my mom to not give my mailing address to the guy who molested me, and within a couple weeks of her promising she had not given it to him, I received mail from him. I cannot trust her to keep her promises (this is not the only time she has defaulted on her word to me) so I feel it's saner for me to just not tell her where I am living.
I get sick of people preaching tolerance for immorality. I've heard time and time again that I ought to forgive my offender because Jesus loves him and Jesus will forgive him if only he asks and repents. This is true. I believe that God has the power to forgive anyone of any sin if that person is truly repentant. I also believe, however, that there are still consequences of our sin. I don't believe that God just hands us cherry-flavored lollipops all day long, no matter what we do or don't do. I think we screw up and we have to deal with the outcomes.
Paul & I were discussing something along these lines over brunch yesterday. Specifically, that Jesus did preach to adulterers, tax collectors, Samaritans, those people that were not fit for the leaders of the synagogue, and whoever all else, to talk to. But he called them to change, to cast down their nets and follow him. He didn't tarry in the bad parts of town. He might stop and preach a bit, maybe heal a person or two, but he kept on the move. He was very nomadic.
It's a complicated idea, I guess; how God loves us just as we are, but at the same time calls us to change our ways and turn away from our sinful nature. I don't believe that we should surround ourselves with immoral people, or people who surround themselves with immoral people. Iron sharpens iron; like dissolves like. I still feel like I am doing right for my family - my kids and my husband - I just wonder how it appears to the outsider looking in on my life, who maybe doesn't have all the facts. It doesn't really matter, I guess, since if I KNOW I am doing what God has lead me to, all other opinions fall to the wayside. But still, I'm curious. Like a cat. It's why my friends call me whiskers. ;)
Monday, March 21, 2011
Fantasy and Reality
After weeks of thinking about my last post, I've decided I really need to provide some clarification. I said I miss my parents and wonder if they miss me. What I *really* miss is the idea of parents, if that makes any sense to cyberworld. I miss an ideological, fantasy version of our relationship; I don't miss the actuality of our relationship.
It would be great if my kids could know my side of the family and if they could have a close relationship with my parents/grandparents/brothers/aunts/uncles/cousins. It'd be great for my family, too; they really are missing out on some pretty amazing kiddos. Christina's not even 3 years old yet, and she's learning to read and write. I think that's pretty amazing, even if I am a little bit biased.
Yeah, it would be wonderful if we lived in a perfect world and my kids could know all of their grandparents, uncles, etc. But I don't live in a perfect world. And I'm choosing not to live in a fantasy world, where I just ignore problems and pretend like everything is okay. I'm living in reality - the reality that my parents showed no signs of caring that I was abused for the foundational years of my childhood. And the reality that they continue to pursue a relationship with my abuser. No, I really don't expect them to cut the guy out of their lives. I did expect, however, that they would show at least a tiny bit of concern for my feelings; a tiny bit of respect for my decisions. I hoped that they wouldn't just toss aside and ignore something that is core to who I am and how I view the world these days.
Maybe people think I'm cold-hearted or stubborn. Heck, some people would probably even say I'm wrong or I'm selfish. But when I look at reality - the words that were actually said and the situations that really took place - and when I let go of the fantastical relationship I wish I had with my parents, I'm better off - and my kids are better off - leaving that behind. We don't need the disrespect, the pain, or the emotional trauma.
I still wish I had that fantastical relationship with my parents, where they could come over for dinner, birthday parties, Christmas. But I'm accepting that this is only a wish and is certainly not the reality I've been given.
It would be great if my kids could know my side of the family and if they could have a close relationship with my parents/grandparents/brothers/aunts/uncles/cousins. It'd be great for my family, too; they really are missing out on some pretty amazing kiddos. Christina's not even 3 years old yet, and she's learning to read and write. I think that's pretty amazing, even if I am a little bit biased.
Yeah, it would be wonderful if we lived in a perfect world and my kids could know all of their grandparents, uncles, etc. But I don't live in a perfect world. And I'm choosing not to live in a fantasy world, where I just ignore problems and pretend like everything is okay. I'm living in reality - the reality that my parents showed no signs of caring that I was abused for the foundational years of my childhood. And the reality that they continue to pursue a relationship with my abuser. No, I really don't expect them to cut the guy out of their lives. I did expect, however, that they would show at least a tiny bit of concern for my feelings; a tiny bit of respect for my decisions. I hoped that they wouldn't just toss aside and ignore something that is core to who I am and how I view the world these days.
Maybe people think I'm cold-hearted or stubborn. Heck, some people would probably even say I'm wrong or I'm selfish. But when I look at reality - the words that were actually said and the situations that really took place - and when I let go of the fantastical relationship I wish I had with my parents, I'm better off - and my kids are better off - leaving that behind. We don't need the disrespect, the pain, or the emotional trauma.
I still wish I had that fantastical relationship with my parents, where they could come over for dinner, birthday parties, Christmas. But I'm accepting that this is only a wish and is certainly not the reality I've been given.
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