Time for some brutal honesty, here.
I love my husband.
I do not love some of my family’s decisions.
Now, I know that everybody’s family has a certain level of fuckery that goes on. It’s totally normal. No one is perfect and shouldn’t be expected to be perfect. I live my life in a disabled world and I LOVE it. Why? Because even the smallest of successes are celebrated. You got your dinner plate and sat at the table with only hearing “dinner’s ready”? AWESOME. You’re starting to type words on a keyboard and make sentences? AMAZING. You made eye contact with me and cracked a smile? SUPER DOPE.
I think working with this population gives me close to zero tolerance for other people. I asked Kevin last night: Is it worse to do something bad and not know it’s bad OR to do something bad even though you KNOW it’s bad? We both immediately said the latter.
Which brings me to my opening statement. So, Kevin & I were planning a trip to Nashville – both to see my sister and so I could attend a conference. I was on a waiting list for this conference, so we weren’t sure of our departure date but I talked with my sister with plenty of advance notice…. long story short, I was accepted to the conference, told my sister and then she responded with, “Sorry, we are going on a vacation.”
Now, at this point, everyone I have relayed this story to asked the same exact question: So, can you just stay at your sister’s house while they’re away?
The answer: No.
However, she is incapable of straight out saying, “No, you cannot stay here.” Her response is along the lines of, “Sorry your trip didn’t work out.” My Mom talked with her and asked her, “Well from the way you’re talking, it doesn’t even sound like you’d let me stay either. Would you let me stay at your house?” She replied, “Honestly? No.”
Additionally, Kevin’s brother & wife and her sister & husband were ALSO going to be in Nashville during that time. We were planning on spending some QT with my sister/hubs and then with his brother/wife. It was going to be an adult family fun time – which never happens, ever. My SIL posted on FB asking for suggestions on what they should do while in Nashville. I had commented earlier on her status and, if you have FB, you know you get the subsequent comment notifications. Which I did. So I looked. I saw my sister commented on her status…. which means she is friends with my SIL.
A point of note here is: My sister is not friends with me on facebook by her choice. She does not want to be publicly associated with me, my husband or anything that we do. She is friends with my Mom, Dad, and, apparently, my sister in law… but not me.
This is my real life, guys. True story.
Of course my Mom, being the wonderful person she is, continues to come to my sister’s defense. Even though she is well aware that, as her mother, SHE isn’t even welcome in their home. I asked her, “Doesn’t that offend you? Aren’t you offended by that? YOU’RE HER MOTHER.” She said No. But I know my Mom. I know her face. Her face said everything. Her face said: I really wish you two would get along. I wish my other daughter didn’t say ‘No.’ I wish my brother and I got along, too.
THAT makes me sad. THAT makes me upset. I am more upset over what this does to my Mom than it does to me. All my Mom has ever wanted from us as siblings was to be the best of sister friends… which we clearly will never be. It took us YEARS to even just be on cordial terms and be able to share space for a few days. We’re never besties. It’s just not the nature of our personalities and relationship, which is OK. That’s fine.
BUT. You can’t purposefully choose to keep people out of your life and expect things to be all honky-dory fine and dandy. It doesn’t work that way.
I don’t hold any of our parent’s actions against her in any way. But I will hold her accountable for her own actions. Now, my Dad – he makes some not great decisions when it comes to relationships but I get it. I know how he grew up, I know his 10 siblings all have similar issues, and I know that he’s going to do what he thinks is ok… even when it’s totally not. BUT my Dad, I can tell him – hey, I really don’t like when you do this shit, this shit and this shit and he’ll go…. oh, fuck, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do that. I appreciate that. I can work with that. He’s my weirdo Dad and I love him for it. He tries.
Conversely, my sister knows full well what she is doing. She is hyper aware of her actions…. and still does them. I don’t appreciate that. I can’t work with that. So I don’t and I won’t.
I have enough stress and anxiety in my life with my mom, my kids and my self that I don’t need that additional source of stress.
We’re all adults and we make our own choices. We have one life to live and it’s full of the results of our choices. I choose not to carry around negativity or hard feelings – which is something my handsome husband doesn’t quite understand. He gets upset for me in these situations. I appreciate that because it shows how much he cares about me, my feelings and my well-being. For me, it’s like.. if you want to be shitty about something, you go right on ahead and be shitty over there in your area. I’ll be chillin’ over here not effected. Same with arguments. I don’t get mad. It drives my Mom and Kevin insane. They’ll be dialed up to 11 and I’m hangin’ out at a 1, maybe 2.
Anyway. I just….don’t put any energy in to it, I guess. It’s clear how people feel and who deserves energy and who doesn’t. With this whole recent incident, my Mom even said, “You need to pick your battles. You should be grateful she picked the battle to come to your wedding.” Of course, my response was: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I SHOULD BE GRATEFUL THAT MY SISTER DECIDED TO ARGUE WITH HER HUSBAND ABOUT COMING TO MY WEDDING? Then she told me to stop being shitty. Yes, *I* was being shitty because I got upset that I should be grateful she chose to argue about coming to my wedding. Yeah, ok. I love my Mom, but cripes. C’mon now.
If it’s her husband that’s the issue well, then, that’s a whole different conversation.
Either way, like I said – we’re adults and we all make our choices. Our lives are the results of those choices.
Me? I choose to surround myself with people who I love and love me back. Who aren’t afraid of who I am as a person. Who support me in my endeavors and enrich my life in one way or another. Who teach me – about their knowledge, about their interests, about my self, about everything I don’t know* (*and was afraid to ask). Who love me whether I’m talking about pole, pot or psychotic breakdowns (and let’s be real, I don’t talk much about the first two on that list, but it makes for decent alliteration – which we know I’m a fan of). I choose to surround myself with people who make me feel appreciated, good enough, and worth their time and energy. I’m really hoping other people can say the same about me.
I’d really hope people would tell me if I was being shitty. Well, actually, they do. They really do. I have a solid crew of people who will call me out on my bullshit and I love them all the more for it. I have people that I can lay it all out to and they’ll bring me back to Earth. Good people, they are. I’m a very fortunate person. While you can’t choose your family, you can always choose your friends – they become your tribe.
I feel better getting that out of my system. That’s been occurring over the past few days with last night being kind of the final straw. Considering the dreams I had last night, I knew I needed to get it out of my system. Can’t carry that shit around, man. It’s bad for your body. This is why I make the choices I do – for a healthier me. I’m doin’ the damn thing.
Anywhos. Other than that whole hot mess of a situation – its pi day! It’s also the day that, ironically, Stephen Hawking passed away. It’s also Kevin’s and my dating anniversary (because we’re neeeerrrrddsss).
At my lady doctor appointment, she was doing her bewbie exam and saw the tattoo I have on my rib cage under my left bewb. It’s the molecular structure of sugar with a heart as the center O. She got REALLY excited and goes, “OH WHAT’S THAT??” (makes sense that a Doctor would get excited over a molecular structure tattoo). I told her that’s the molecular structure for sugar. My husband always calls me “sugar”. The heart is for sweetheart. And it’s close to my heart. She got THE biggest, cheesiest, shit eating grin on her face and said excitedly, “I LOVE IT. That’s so sweet, I love it!”
Then I told her about the one he has and she laughed. I told her that Kevin and I love to play cribbage, because we’re old people. In cribbage, if you lose by a certain number of points, it’s called getting “skunked.” If you lose by even more points, it’s called getting “double skunked.” So, my husband has a double skunk – it’s a single body with two heads (a lady head and a man head) and a split tail that makes a heart. She kept on smiling and said, “I really like that, that’s wonderful. I love it.” Her enjoyment of our nerd love made me all squishy because our love makes me warm and squishy…. like my lady parts. I suppose that means our love is like a vagina.
That transitive property doesn’t always make the most sense. ; )
Ok, enough of that. I think I’m going to rest a little before starting to work on things. My brain feels tired and my body feels not great. I hope you all get to celebrate Pi day in some way today. I also hope that you show someone kindness today. Just a little bit of kindness. It goes a long way.
Thanks for stopping by.
I am glad you exist.