Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Today
Writing about this is so hard.
I'd like to write about how the sun
is shining today
or how I feel a little better
than yesterday
Or how some of my fingers hurt
and I feel like my shirt is too wrinkly
and I'm supposed to be going to the
doctor
but I may skip it because I'm too tired
to drive out to Richmond on little to no sleep
and what I really want to do is
get my car registered
and then go get some Pho.
Yup, my standards are so high.
I also have a decent book
or two
or ten
to read so that makes me
happy.
But
I've been looking through
various and sundry areas of the internet
and I've notice
that there are prolific amounts of resources and
reading material for domestic violence victims and survivors
off all kinds
men abused by women
women abused by men
women abused by women
men abused by men
and children abused by parents.
however
there is very minimal help
for parents abused by their children.
Which is an odd situation,
I know
but what
about
them?
and
what
about their siblings?
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Early Mother's Day Post
I am going wedding dress shopping tomorrow with my mom. Words cannot even express how excited I am, especially for the sushi afterward.
I was talking to my mom in the car on the way home from the root canal about my wedding and the conclusion I came to was interesting so I thought I'd share it with you.
Anyway, we were just talking about how stressed out I was about the wedding and which parts I was stressed out about. (And from now on this is going to be in present tense and generified because I don't want to be all he said, she said.) The idea of having a wedding in three months does stress me out, but the general overall conclusion is that I've had twins! I carried them for 8 months, I had a c- section and I recovered. And now I have a full time job taking care of two babies. And that shit stresses me out like crazy! So...I guess a wedding isn't the most stressful thing I've ever had to deal with. if stuff messes up, I'll deal. I am not Kate Middleton, nor do I have any desire to be.
Right now, the kindest thing my mom has ever done for me (and she has done a lot of kind things) is right after the biggest fight I can ever remember us having, was going and pulling out her old wedding dresses. I couldn't believe it. We had had a terrible day and she called me to her room, telling me, "You aren't in trouble." My jaw dropped, because I was having such a hard time getting past everything that happened that day and she just took my hand and we got past it.
I love you mom. Happy mother's day.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Day Three- To My Parents
Dear Parents,
A new era has arrived, kind of. I am the daughter and the soon to be mother and for the first time, I see us turning into friends. Adult-y friend. That is, by far, the best present I could ever hope for while being in this house. I love that I can ask you for help or talk to you about whatever pops into my mind and not feel embarrassed, or even when I DO feel embarrassed, to get past it, because it has led to some amazing conversations.
Mom, you show me what a good mother-daughter relationship looks like. It involves fights, good books, the occasional movie, tears, dates, talks about boys, hand holding, cuddling, laughing hysterically, therapy, church and respect. Parental perfection is NOT included, but no one cares, because it’s too much fun anyway. I love that I can walk into your office and you make time for me. I love that you support my relationship with my fiancé even when it’s hard to and you always give me the mommy perspective that I need. You have taught me how to cook (I swear, I know more than just noodles) and you share your clothes with me now that I’m all pregnant and whatnot. You don’t make fun of my fat feet and you held my hand during my first ultrasound. I laugh like crazy when I’m around you. I love sharing my favorite books with you because I know you’ll enjoy them as much as I have. You taught me how to slice a mango the right way, how to make the best chamomile tea and that curly hair is ALWAYS better then straight hair. You gave me your tool box. I didn’t inherit your organizational skills, but you help me out with them anyway. I always remember that if your around, my situation become 100% less stressful. I learned to love my body from you. I learned to use contacts instead of glasses from you. I learned to play nice with my little brother from you and I guarantee that the first time I ‘mama bear’ at someone, I’ll have learned it from you.
Dad, you taught me how to sing. My funniest memory of us is me putting my hand over your mouth. I had so much fun driving to school with you my junior and senior year. We’ve had fun exchanging music and Stephen King books. I love how we have a mutual affection for Constantine and Hellboy. Thanks for permanently spawning a lifelong hatred of talk radio in my early years and for teaching me to research and read about politics, not just settle for what the general media tells me. I can’t wait to see you rock my boys to sleep and I can’t wait to go and get my CHL with you when I turn 21. I love how you converted to Catholicism and how that makes you a stronger Catholic. I love how we can get together and bitch and feel better because of it. I love how you gave me my sense of humor, albeit a somewhat morbid one and my ability to defend myself and my love of a good creepy novel.
I love you
A new era has arrived, kind of. I am the daughter and the soon to be mother and for the first time, I see us turning into friends. Adult-y friend. That is, by far, the best present I could ever hope for while being in this house. I love that I can ask you for help or talk to you about whatever pops into my mind and not feel embarrassed, or even when I DO feel embarrassed, to get past it, because it has led to some amazing conversations.
Mom, you show me what a good mother-daughter relationship looks like. It involves fights, good books, the occasional movie, tears, dates, talks about boys, hand holding, cuddling, laughing hysterically, therapy, church and respect. Parental perfection is NOT included, but no one cares, because it’s too much fun anyway. I love that I can walk into your office and you make time for me. I love that you support my relationship with my fiancé even when it’s hard to and you always give me the mommy perspective that I need. You have taught me how to cook (I swear, I know more than just noodles) and you share your clothes with me now that I’m all pregnant and whatnot. You don’t make fun of my fat feet and you held my hand during my first ultrasound. I laugh like crazy when I’m around you. I love sharing my favorite books with you because I know you’ll enjoy them as much as I have. You taught me how to slice a mango the right way, how to make the best chamomile tea and that curly hair is ALWAYS better then straight hair. You gave me your tool box. I didn’t inherit your organizational skills, but you help me out with them anyway. I always remember that if your around, my situation become 100% less stressful. I learned to love my body from you. I learned to use contacts instead of glasses from you. I learned to play nice with my little brother from you and I guarantee that the first time I ‘mama bear’ at someone, I’ll have learned it from you.
Dad, you taught me how to sing. My funniest memory of us is me putting my hand over your mouth. I had so much fun driving to school with you my junior and senior year. We’ve had fun exchanging music and Stephen King books. I love how we have a mutual affection for Constantine and Hellboy. Thanks for permanently spawning a lifelong hatred of talk radio in my early years and for teaching me to research and read about politics, not just settle for what the general media tells me. I can’t wait to see you rock my boys to sleep and I can’t wait to go and get my CHL with you when I turn 21. I love how you converted to Catholicism and how that makes you a stronger Catholic. I love how we can get together and bitch and feel better because of it. I love how you gave me my sense of humor, albeit a somewhat morbid one and my ability to defend myself and my love of a good creepy novel.
I love you
Thursday, July 8, 2010
What I've Learned So Far
I am terrible at waiting for anything. Especially phone calls for jobs. Those could made me even crazier than I’ve ever been.
The sound of a fiddle, violin and bagpipes can still make me tear up.
Standing in the pouring rain is like going to confession. I feel cold and wet and clean at the end of both. Better than a two hour shower. And my hair smells like rain for hours after.
I miss my animals like crazy. Especially my cat. I want kitten kisses, dammit!
I still sing in the shower. Loudly. And my range is getting back to normal. I need to start swimming more regularly or singing more regularly. Something to improve my breathing.
Ground beef and potatoes are the still the best damn comfort food ever. Ravioli takes a close second, which I never would have guessed in a million years, but OH MY GOD it is amazing. It comes with spicy sausage and freaking LOBSTER and mushrooms and it’s crazy that something can taste that good and be legal. Seriously.
I can still write, even without my infamous red journal. And my “sexy” pen. God, that is the stupidest phrase ever, but it sticks. It was one of the first that ever stuck in my head.
I can only make people laugh when they want to laugh. If they insist on a stoic silence, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. And that isn’t my fault. My ability to laugh easily simply does not affect some people. And that’s okay. I can still make people smile, and do on a daily basis.
Even when you love a person, they can still irritate the fuck out of you if you see them on a daily basis. Which actually explains why my parents, my brother and I clash. So, I’ve got to remember this when I go back to my house. And be more forgiving. And also while I’m at this house. To be less touchy and more forgiving.
I still find helping people an honorable career. I would rather drop dead than do some jobs, but I still think it’s cool that people can work in banks or anywhere they need to. It’s hard being picking in this economy. But what the hell, helping people, being a servant doesn’t go out of style. Ever.
Julia Child was a beast. End of story.
If you can gross out your best guy friend with two words, be proud. It’s been four years and I have learned well.
Anastasia still has a badass soundtrack. It never gets old and that’s just kind of mind blowing.
A friend is NOT a friend when all he does is want what’s best for him. He’s a jackass. And that’s okay, if you want to put up with it, but it’s up to you to deal. So you can either choose to deal or you can kill it.
Alone time with my mom is a precious gift. But not one I should beat up my brother for, probably. But seriously, that fifteen minutes that we get where we are on the phone or just hanging out a little bit, especially this day-date I’m going on with her tomorrow and we make each other laugh are what keeps me going in the midst of intense stress. And I feel so blessed that we have that. It’s special and taking it for granted would be such a mistake.
Also, always knock before going to the restroom.
The sound of a fiddle, violin and bagpipes can still make me tear up.
Standing in the pouring rain is like going to confession. I feel cold and wet and clean at the end of both. Better than a two hour shower. And my hair smells like rain for hours after.
I miss my animals like crazy. Especially my cat. I want kitten kisses, dammit!
I still sing in the shower. Loudly. And my range is getting back to normal. I need to start swimming more regularly or singing more regularly. Something to improve my breathing.
Ground beef and potatoes are the still the best damn comfort food ever. Ravioli takes a close second, which I never would have guessed in a million years, but OH MY GOD it is amazing. It comes with spicy sausage and freaking LOBSTER and mushrooms and it’s crazy that something can taste that good and be legal. Seriously.
I can still write, even without my infamous red journal. And my “sexy” pen. God, that is the stupidest phrase ever, but it sticks. It was one of the first that ever stuck in my head.
I can only make people laugh when they want to laugh. If they insist on a stoic silence, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. And that isn’t my fault. My ability to laugh easily simply does not affect some people. And that’s okay. I can still make people smile, and do on a daily basis.
Even when you love a person, they can still irritate the fuck out of you if you see them on a daily basis. Which actually explains why my parents, my brother and I clash. So, I’ve got to remember this when I go back to my house. And be more forgiving. And also while I’m at this house. To be less touchy and more forgiving.
I still find helping people an honorable career. I would rather drop dead than do some jobs, but I still think it’s cool that people can work in banks or anywhere they need to. It’s hard being picking in this economy. But what the hell, helping people, being a servant doesn’t go out of style. Ever.
Julia Child was a beast. End of story.
If you can gross out your best guy friend with two words, be proud. It’s been four years and I have learned well.
Anastasia still has a badass soundtrack. It never gets old and that’s just kind of mind blowing.
A friend is NOT a friend when all he does is want what’s best for him. He’s a jackass. And that’s okay, if you want to put up with it, but it’s up to you to deal. So you can either choose to deal or you can kill it.
Alone time with my mom is a precious gift. But not one I should beat up my brother for, probably. But seriously, that fifteen minutes that we get where we are on the phone or just hanging out a little bit, especially this day-date I’m going on with her tomorrow and we make each other laugh are what keeps me going in the midst of intense stress. And I feel so blessed that we have that. It’s special and taking it for granted would be such a mistake.
Also, always knock before going to the restroom.
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