More Fired Up Than I Thought

Something’s been bothering me since Thanksgiving and I didn’t realize it until today that I’m still bothered by it.  Do you ever have someone say something to you and then you mull it over for a few days and wish you’d said something back?  I can’t be the only one who does that.  I’m usually pretty quick, but I can definitely come back with something good after a week.

I’ve been disowned three times in my life.  Once by my gma when she realized I moved out of my house to live with a boy at 18.  Once by my dad when I moved to Colorado and then out of his house to live with same boy at 19.  (there seems to be a pattern forming) And once more by my gma when I got married to new boy, aka The Monkey.  Nothing mends fences like a baby, though, and once Sunshine was born I was back in the family!  Yay!

Yes, I have terrible taste in boys, but disown me?  Disown your own family?  I’ve never understood conditional love, ever.  And trust me when I say, there are additional disowning stories to tell from my family, but they’re not mine to tell so you’ll just have to hear about me.

So short recap for my new reader, my parents divorced when I was about 2, he remarried and moved to another state when I was about 8, and I didn’t really have a relationship with him until I was 19, post-disowning.  Also, I am my mother.  I don’t hold grudges.  And just know that if we don’t talk anymore, it’s because of you, because there’s almost nothing you can do to me for me to stop talking to you.  So call me or something, geez.

Anyway, my dad and I had a rocky relationship.

In 1991, post-disowning.

I realize now that he probably did the best he could with the skills he had, maybe we all do.  He sure loved those grandkids though, but he moved to another state when Sunshine was 5 and Tenderheart was still baking so he was around fun grandkids, not opinionated, snotty, moody, yet awesome teenage grandkids. Then he died in 2008.

Okay, the mood is set, let’s slow forward to Thanksgiving when I’m talking to my step-mom. I’m going to tread lightly because in my 2.5 readers are people who know my step-mom.  Just know that I love my step-mom.  She was amazing to us when my dad died and was a pillar of strength.  And if only she wouldn’t continue to tell me about THEIR (hers and my dad’s) biggest disappointment in me from 1989, we might have a better relationship, but I consider our relationship to be pretty good anyway because I don’t hold a grudge and I let her just tell me how disappointed they were in 1989 when I didn’t go to the college they wanted me to.

And guess what?  I’m pretty disappointed in myself too.  In fact, nothing you can say to me can make me feel any worse about it because I already feel the worst I possibly can, trust me.  That goes for several events in my life.  And guess what else? I can’t change a damn thing, so let’s move on, shall we?

And I’m sorry, I haven’t even made it to Thanksgiving yet.  So on Thanksgiving, I called my step-mom to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving as people are wont to do, and we hadn’t talked in a while so I was filling her in on things we’d been doing, etc.  I mentioned that Moonshine was doing better and that she got a pretty good report card so I let her get her nose pierced.  Heavy sigh.” I regretted it the minute I said it, but it’s what we’d been doing and I don’t keep secrets well and if she doesn’t want to know things, don’t ask.  She’s eventually going to see her and why wouldn’t I mention it, we’re not ashamed of anything.

So my step-mom, who I need to give a name, sighed heavily and said in a disappointed tone, you know the one, “It’s times like this when I just think, What would your dad say?”  And I paused and then laughed it off and said something about Moonshine’s nose piercing being really small and it was cute and blah, blah, blah, filler, filler, filler, Happy Thanksgiving, talk to you soon.  I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for my friend Heather (holla!) and her family, played a little Rock Band, and went to see Breaking Dawn part 2, all of which you’ll hear about another time.

But then it was there in the back of my head.  “What would your dad say?”  Well, I’d like to think my dad would say, I love you no matter what.  In a perfect world where my dad is STILL ALIVE, he might say, Thanks, kids, for never being on Dr. Phil, I’m so blessed to have amazing grandkids like you guys.  And when he watches daytime television and NEVER sees Sunshine asking, Who’s the baby daddy? on Maury, I’d like to think he would thank God that he got such an amazing bunch.  That’s what I wish I would have said to her.

The worst feeling in the world for me is to feel like I’m being judged.  I hate it more than anything.  And when someone who doesn’t have kids says, “I’d never let my kids do…..”, I say, “GOOD LUCK!” in all caps with an exclamation point.  Because you know what, good luck to you.  And what pisses me off is no matter how much I complain about them, my kids are really good.  Who cares if Moonshine wants to dye her hair red and get a little nose piercing?  You don’t want that for your kid?  Good for you.  No really, good for you.  I’m picking my battles. I’m not going to fight with you over something that can be easily fixed, I’m saving my battles for the big stuff, which thank God I haven’t had to deal with yet.  And when I see some 16 year-old girl on Dr. Phil who’s been expelled from school for fighting and arrested for breaking some chick’s head open, I look around and think, I wish you could just see how amazing these girls are.  And I’m not normally a bragger because they drive me nuts, but I love those little suckers.

Hey, that cute little chubby-cheeked girl is going to grow up and have a nose piercing and red highlights and I’m going to love her no matter what.

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5 Comments

  1. oh, girl…we could commiserate for days and not cover all we have in common…not that it would be helpful to either of us, but we might feel better for a moment.

  2. Whitney

    I’m always proud of you for how you raise your girls! You are doing a great job. Yes you do have to pick your battles. Even when our kids do things we wished they wouldn’t do we do still love them UNCONDITIONALLY!! It sucks to feel judged but in the end, if you’re ok with your decisions that’s what counts! Being a parent is a learning experience and we do the best we can with each circumstance that arises with our kids.

    • You’re so sweet, Whitney. Thank you for your nice comments!!

  3. Gah. Families. Nobody can break your heart better than they can.

  4. Heidi

    My dad died in 2000, and I like to think of him the way I WISHED him to be…maybe I’m in denial, but I figure he can’t disprove me this way. I do still have moments that I wish I could just pick up the phone and call him though.

    Your kids will be fine; just look at all the horrible parents out there, and some of them seem to produce productive members of society…with or without nose piercings and red hair! And again, I am thankful to have sons; they never want to get their noses pierced. lol

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