xogsmommy

The Needs Merry Go Round

2007-12-02T02:10:00.000-05:00

Can you tell I'm still pissed? I tried to have a conversation with his majesty the king. Psssh. It's like talking to a brick wall. Humans have needs. I get that. It would be nice if he'd share them with me. He likes to act like I'm not meeting his needs. I might not be for all I know. How can I know? He won't say. Maybe that's a control thing. Maybe he needs to be miserable, he wouldn't be the first person on the planet like that.

Here's the thing. I have needs to. Where I ask him what they are, only to be met with a refusal to say, he doesn't even ask me. He just doesn't care. All he thinks about is himself. It's like he needs to be a martyr, poor him, with his horrible wife. He doesn't like me to meet his friends, they will get to know me and realize that I'm not the harpy he says I am. True, I am probably nastier to him than I am to anyone else, but I'm not horrible.

He's so stupid! I have this urge to repeatedly punch him in the head, right in the nose. He's not happy, I'm not happy, yet he doesn't want to have any kind of meaningful conversation. Stupid ass.

Yet what can I do? In the end, I still love him. I do want to work on things. I don't want to be unhappy and I don't want him to be unhappy. You hear of or know these great couples, but are they really that great? Are they living lives of quiet desperation or are they truly a happy team? Are great marriages something that Hollywood sells us or is it a possibility? Are we all so damaged that what we take for happiness is really just some nasty form of co-dependence? Maybe. Who knows.

We are a nation of adults that were raised by single parents. (not across the board, I'm just making a point) So what do we even know of relationships? Promiscuous male celebrities are praised but when the celebrity is a female, she's a whore. What is right?

Where do we go from here?

Tired

2007-12-02T01:37:00.000-05:00

I am so tired of double standards. My husband has certain expectations of me, but god forbid if I have expectations from him. Sure, I could keep the house cleaner. Sure, I could workout more. What he wants isn't exactly out in left field. Except that he doesn't feel that I have a right to put any demands on him. I am so pissed off right now.

His majesty the fucking king wants me to loose weight. He's right, I weigh an unhealthy amount. However, he couldn't be bothered to be supportive. Support isn't nitpicking, criticizing, or basically harassment. Who the hell is he that he can act like this, but have a damn heart attack if I ask him to do something for me. Like pick up his fucking socks???

That brings up another thing. He expects me to keep the house perfectly clean. Not such a bad demand on the surface, but he's a slob. Too lazy to go to the damn bathroom, the man pees in jugs, milk gallons, and bowls. It's foul and I refuse to dump them. No, they don't sit around in the living room, he usually sleeps in the attic. To sleep, he needs a movie and food. I can't sleep like that, so he has his "man room". The cat peed on the futon cover and he never washed it. I'm not welcome in that room, so I don't clean it. The cat peed on it years ago, and continues to pee on it. Add the cat pee to rotting bowls of food and bowls and jugs of pee. Yeah, who the hell is he to bitch about a small mess?

Can you tell he got home from work tonight in a mood? We went through a really rough patch over the summer. I owned up to my mistakes in the marriage but he's not man enough to do the same thing. The ass can't take responsibility for his own mistakes, everything must be my fault.

He's bitching that he's stuck home tonight. Not my fault that he never kept in contact with his friends and the only one who still talks to him is too tired to go out. Not my fault, nor my problem. While my social life isn't as active as I'd like it, for the time being there's nothing I can do about it. So why complain about something that in the immediate time I can't change? I swear, the man's middle name is whiner. I've never met anyone who complains as much as he does. Quite frankly, I'm tired of it.

If you aren't living in the solution, you are living in the problem. That's a little gem I picked up from Alanon. It's a glorious bit of wisdom. He'd never listen to it, everyone else is the cause of his issues. Strike that, I am the cause of his issues. I ruined his life. I caused his misery. Whatever.

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

2007-10-10T11:41:00.000-05:00

Ah, what is that sound? Could it be a plumbing leak? Or did my home come with a waterfall. Oh, no waterfall feature, just a waterfall from the bathroom.

Damn.

I finished my bathroom floor a bit ago and then the entire sewer line decided that after 117 years of faithful service, it was time to retire. Why couldn't it have done that BEFORE settlement?

I took a billion pics, here are the highlights:

Cast iron sewer line.

The mess they made while cutting the ceiling out to get at the leak.

Oh, yeah, the bathtub drain was leaking, too, and there was a floor joist in the way, so this was their solution. Honestly, these guys were very professional and this was truly the only option that didn't involve cutting the joist. It reminds me of that old windows screen saver with the moving pipes.

The final picture of the damage. We have to let the ceiling dry out before we replace it. That's fine, we just spent a bazillion dollars on plumbing work!

It's Been A Busy Month

2007-10-01T09:35:00.000-05:00

Oops, it's October already. How did that happen? School started, boxes were unpacked, and life went on. I really meant to update this thing with some sort of regularity. Ah, such is life.

Two weeks ago I was finally able to get an evaluation for my oldest son, Xavier. He's a delightful child who is hyper as all hell, defiant, and at times, obnoxious. There are two sides to him, the sweet side and the devil side. He is eight, and I've struggled parenting him since day one. He's always needed more, more of my time and energy. He was diagnosed ADHD and ODD, which is oppositional defiant disorder. No one who knows him well was surprised. NO ONE. I did a happy dance in the parking lot of the mental health office. I finally have answers, and with answers, comes help.

The hubby, Bob, rode in a charity bike ride on Saturday. I'm so proud of him. I couldn't pedal 80 miles! Hell, I don't think I could go one.

In other news, I finished my bathroom floor. The ugly cream and green checker asbestos tiles are gone, replaced with shiny white ceramic tile. I have repaired the toilet about five times, including pulling the whole damn thing up three times. Gotta love home ownership!

Actually, I'm in love with this house. I still walk around and giggle to myself, we own a home! It's ours!

Today of the First Day of the Rest of the Year

2007-08-27T10:42:00.000-05:00

Hear that sound? The whining and feet dragging? That would be my beloved children going back to school. New teachers. A new routine. This has been a crazy summer and I don't have enough words to say how relieved I am that school is back in session.

I am trying to come up with a decent routine for school. I am not a morning person, as my sister can attest to. Coming up with something that suits four people, only one of which is an early riser, is challenging.

Getting the baby to bed is the biggest challenge. I almost feel like nothing else will get done until he's asleep. For now, I sit next to his bed until he falls asleep. He rolls around. He asks to brush his teeth again. He lists every last person he knows and asks what they are doing. Sigh. He doesn't nap anymore, so getting a good night's sleep is really important.

In other news, I spent the better part of three days in the most god awful heat, digging holes. When we moved in, there was a single clothesline. I don't own a dryer, and I don't intend on ever owning one. The clothesline broke. Not the line part, the pole part. It just wasn't fixable. Hubby got a new one, and I put them in the old holes. There wasn't any concrete, so I thought it would be ok.

They fell over.

Ok, off to Home Depot. I got quick setting concrete, thinking, surely this will do the trick. I'm not Bob Vila, but I AM pretty handy. The kids and I had a good time digging the holes. I poured the concrete and thought that was a job well done.

They fell over.

Back to Home Depot I go. I talk with some random employee walking by, and at his suggestion, get two bags of concrete. I am to redig the holes, going down in a v shape for the old concrete ball, then wider, for the new concrete.

The heat index was 110. I ran out, dug a bit, and ran back in to sit in front of the fan. That kind of heat is just illegal, or should be, anyway.

Finally, Saturday evening, the clothesline was put back up. Sunday I really needed to do laundry. We were out of almost all of the clothes, except the ones that rarely get worn.

The load of laundry finished. I stood in the yard, eyeing the line warily. I was so afraid that it would fall down again, but we were about to totally run out of clothes. Tenatively, I began hanging up my laundry.

It held.

Huzzah!

ssssPAckle

2007-08-22T22:57:00.000-05:00

Yes, say it outloud, just like that. ssssPAckle. It's kind of fun. Can you guess what I've been doing the last few days? The attic is my husband's "man" room, and it needs a lot of spackle. I like to spackle, it's kind of soothing in a way. Then again, I also like watching laundry in a washer.

We are really settling in. I began the process of tiling the bathroom floor. The old floor was cream and green checker board in ancient linoleum tile. It looked lovely. This house is odd, the previous owner kept everything in good repair except the bathroom and kitchen floors. It's all good, I'm beyond happy to be in my own space, that we own. That is ours. OURS.

Except that I irritated my shoulder spackling. A lot of the cracks and dings were over my head, so my arm was up in the air. Ten years ago or so I was wrestling with my younger brother. My younger brother who has been taller than me since I was 14. He tackled me into a wicker couch that was up against a wall. I didn't dislocate my shoulder, but it hasn't been right since. Right now it hurts.

I'm still glad to be in my own home, sore shoulder and all.

Captain, My Captain

2007-08-14T09:59:00.000-05:00

I took a carbon output test to see how environmentally friendly we are. My family scored a 348. I couldn't seem to find whether that is average, high, or low. I know we could score better. For instance, we don't have all halogen bulbs, just some. They are expensive, so as bulbs burn out, we replace them with halogen. So that one will get better.

As we settle in, I'm thinking more green. Growing up, we had rotating chores. One of the chores was the light captain. This person was responsible for going around to rooms and making sure the lights were out. I am going to do that here. That would help our green rating, besides saving on electricity.

I wonder what the average family can do to be more green without spending a ton of money?

That Tricky Air

2007-08-13T09:28:00.001-05:00

My sister called yesterday. She is an amazing person, one of the smartest people I know. I seemed to get all of the clumsiness in the family, she got the looks and the brains. However, I was reminded that, while I fall all of the time and she rarely does, she tends to get hurt in spectacular ways.

She got chicken pox first. I can barely stand on skis, she falls once and gets knocked out, complete with a ride down the mountain in an ambulance. I've only had stitches once, not counting the epesiotomy stitches, she's been sewed up twice. I've broken my arm and most of my fingers and toes, and as far as I know, she's never broken a bone, so she's one up on that.

On Sunday, she was leaving a friend's house and turned around while walking down the sidewalk to wave bye. There was a lumpy, bumpy pile of AIR in her way, and being turned around, she didn't see it. She tripped and fell, royally banging up her right knee and severely spraining her left ankle. My poor sister.

I'm sending her good healing vibes. She was supposed to start a new job today, but she can't drive. Her car is a stick shift.

Feel better soon, Sissy!

Yummy, Delicious Blood

2007-08-12T14:53:00.000-05:00

The neighbors two yards over have a blow up swimming pool. It's filled with what looks like fetid swamp water. When the wind is just right, the smell is horrible. Now I've discovered that it's a breeding ground for skeeters.

My oldest, X, is covered in giant mosquito bites. They are swollen and larger than a silver dollar. Gross. He's like me, mosquitos just love our blood.

In unpacking news, we're about 75% unpacked. It's awesome. Of course, the bulk of what's left is books and movies. The bookcase didn't survive the move, so I'm waiting until we have the money to buy another one. I can't wait to unpack my "friends".

Yes, I know I'm a nerd, why do you ask?

I Hear the Secrets That You Keep, When You're Talking In Your Sleep

2007-08-09T09:44:00.000-05:00

Any given morning, I will wake up to one or more children sleeping in my bed. Usually with their pointy toes lodged in my back. Sometimes even a foot jammed against my chin. As much as I like having my space, I think that as long as they are sleeping, I'm not going to be picky as to where.

Last night, I crawled into bed way too late. X was already sleeping in my bed, but whatever, he was asleep. He's eight, and somehow had gotten the idea that he gets to have an opinion about everything. He's adhd and the sweetest boy in the world.

When I flopped down, I shifted him. He rolled over, and through half mast eyes, he said, "Tell O to go around the other way." O being his six year old sister. I said, oh, the other way? He nodded and said, "Find a way to make it happen." I had to smother a snicker, sometimes he sounds like 45 year old man.

My sister also talks in her sleep. You can actually carry on a conversation with her until you wake her up and piss her off. I don't talk in my sleep, but my husband does. So far, X and O talk in their sleep, but not G, my two year old boy.

Apparently I'm Five

2007-08-07T12:08:00.000-05:00

I am sick. The kind of sick where I want to curl up in bed and ignore the world. I have an ear infection. The pain is amazing. Here I am, very close to 30, and I have a kid's illness.

I hate being this close to 30. I don't care how old other people are, but in my mind, I'm much closer to 20 than to 30. Why is that? Could it be our society's obsession with youth? I truly have no idea. I just know that when I look in the mirror, I see an old lady. An old lady who somehow has developed acne and gets kid's illnesses.

I have a picture of myself taken at age 20. It's a professional portrait and I look amazing. When I showed the kids, they didn't know who it was. Have I changed that much? That picture was 50 pounds, three kids, and nearly 10 years ago. What happened to me?

How do I recapture my youthfulness without looking pathetic?

Done and Done

2007-08-05T23:02:00.000-05:00

The move went off without a hitch...

Oh, who am I kidding? True, it went as well as I expected. Later than expected, but all in all, not to bad.

It was a strange day. Bob had to meet with the realtor for a final walk through. For whatever reason, we didn't know about this until the day before. We altered our plans to include this, which made things really rushed.

When we went to pick up the uhaul, I got a nasty surprise. My license was expired. Not just recently expired, but January expired. Shit. I honestly had no idea. The lady was nice enough to ignore it. Bob is really twitchy in the morning, so she must have figured that I was better to drive it.

My mother in law was a gem that day. She wound really tightly and she's very nervous. We don't always get along but we really bonded that day. She even bought us lunch.

At about 2 pm we hear sirens. We all run outside, and holy moly, there's an actual fire. Billowing smoke, firefighters hooking hoses up to hydrants, the whole nine yards. A 14 year old boy was left in charge of four younger siblings, all boys, and somehow the fire started. It was insane. No one was hurt, but it broke my heart to see a firefighter carrying out a sooty kitty.

So we are now slowly getting settled in. Hooray for a home that is ours!

Musings on Moving

2007-07-30T18:46:00.000-05:00

To the person who gave us the entertainment center even though we said we didn't want it. I hate you. Not only did it take five strong men to move it in, you had to take the top of it off.

To the person who built the ugly thing, I hate you. Were nails every two inches not enough? Was that why you used screws, too? Apparently, the screws didn't quite do it, you glued it, too. It took me eight hours to tear the thing apart.

Tomorrow we move into our first house. We are so excited! We haven't moved in five years, so it's interesting packing. Those two boxes taking up my closet shelf? Junk. I have also realized that Bob has, literally, four times as many clothes as I do. Yet he seems to wear the same four or five outfits.

It also feels like I've been packing forever. And I will BE packing forever. Blah.

Murphy's Law has been in full force. I've been packing for three or four weeks now. What movie do I get in the mood to watch? Oh, yes, the one I packed in the first box. My period has been coming every six to eight weeks for ever now, and even if it were on a normal schedule, I shouldn't bleed until next week. What shows up last night? Why it's good old Aunt Flow. Hooray! So far, it's been minor stuff, so knock on wood for me and wish us luck.

Here's to the new house and a new chapter in our lives!

Spaghetti and Children

2007-07-23T22:44:00.000-05:00

Say you are making spaghetti. Child X will only eat angel hair pasta. Child O will only eat pasta shapes. Since it's no big deal to make two pots, you do. So which one does Child G eat?

Answer: the one you made less of.

It figures, doesn't it.

Co-dependency and Mormonism

2006-06-22T13:04:00.000-05:00

My best friend has discovered that she is co-dependent. It's been a painful realization for her. I think that most people have some degree of this issue. It's almost a human condition to want to be helpful and giving. The issue is when you don't put up any boundaries and people take advantage. Even mentally healthy people will take and take and take. Hey, free is free.

It got me thinking. Mormonism sets people up, mostly women, to give and give and give. Since the church is an unpaid ministry and tithing is 10% (and pretty much required), they never stop asking the members to give. They have fired the cleaning crews and cleaning is now required of the members. The callings can amount to a full time job. Yet they still manage to ask for more time. It's pretty much a sin to turn down a calling.

I am thankful to be out of the church with all of the demands. It's interesting, Utah has the largest concentration of mormons. It also has the highest sugar consumption, highest antidepressant prescriptions, and highest bankruptcy rate.

Of Pride and Prejudice

2006-04-25T10:07:00.000-05:00

One of the insidious facets of the Mormon Church is the pride of the members. They are taught that they are God's elect people, saved and chosen for these last days before Christ returns to earth. There is extreme pride that goes along with that. "We" are chosen, "We" are God's elect, ie: "We" are better than the rest of the human population.

Children don't like to feel different from their peers. This is difficult for children growing up in an area with a low Mormon population. I lived in Utah from the time I was one until I was nine. I again lived there for a year when I was fourteen. Utah is a different country. There is a herd mentality. The church itself has said that when the "Prophet" (the head of the church) speaks, all thinking has been done. So to then live in Pennsylvania, where the Mormon population is low, was difficult.

Adding to that difficulty is the inherent superiority complex taught by the church. Top it off with the sexism and racism of the church, and living outside of Utah is a nightmare. Church members are discouraged from associating with non-members. So what to do when you know larger numbers of non-members? You end up lonely, and estranged from both.

Along with the superiority complex comes the judgements. I was raised by a courageous single mother. Since the church teaches "eternal" marriages are required for salvation, what then of us? Well, the wonderful church has an answer: polygamy. In order to obtain the highest eschelon of heaven, which the Mormons call the Celestial Kingdom, men will have more than one wife. So my wonderful mother was to be relegated to second or twelfth wife? Why do women need a man to obtain salvation in the first place? Why was my mother second rate without a husband?

I'm sorry this was a bit disjointed, I'm more thinking outloud. And I'm angry. I spent my life in this cult that calls itself a church and I feel that I will struggle with this brainwashing for the rest of my life. After years of being inactive I tried to go back. I studied the Book of Mormon, I met with the missionaries, and I attended church meetings regularly. I was still shunned, as I had committed the cardinal sin of marrying a non-member. The efforts of friendshipping me and bringing me back to the fold actually centered on fellowshipping my husband in the hopes that he would join the church. Because having a penis is of uber importance. More important than simply being a human being with needs. Thanks to growing up with the brainwashing of the cult, somewhere in the back of my head there is this voice that whispers, "Without a man, you are nothing."

girls' camp experiences

2006-04-23T00:38:00.000-05:00

i was reading on a message board for exmormons and there was a post about girls' camp. about how the "spiritual activities" are really manipulations. the board isn't accepting any new posts and i feel that i need to share.

yes, there were many faith promoting activities. i've blocked out most of them, i honestly can't remember much of girls' camp. however, i do remember my first time there. i was a beehive (they call each class a silly name) and twelve and a half. it was the last night there and my bunk mates and i went to bed early because there was a sunrise fireside testimonial meeting the next day. apparently, unknown to us, that was also the night for the older girls to prank the beehives. so we get the wake-up call before dawn and we rush out to hike to the meeting area. half way there we realize, to our horror, we had been pranked. we each had some sort of soap in our hair and charcoal on our faces. the fireside lasted over two hours long. dried soap in your hair for that long is hell. when we got back to our cabin to pack up to go home we found cut up onions in our sleeping bags.

the sad thing is, i do love to camp. i don't mind bugs and hiking and cooking over a fire. one year it poured the entire week and it was our first year in actual tents, and my feet were wet the whole week. not even my skin peeling on my feet bothered me as much as manipulation wrapped in the pretty bow of "faith promoting" experiences.