I'm pretty sure this is at least the 4th time I've done this, and
that's probably why I have only 2 followers. Hehe. But I'm trying to
consolidate my email addresses, because job searching and school have
caused me to open more, and I just think 5 email addresses is ridiculous
for one person. Apparently, though, I never officially shut down my
previous blog accounts, and trying to switch this account to the email
address I want to keep isn't working because I've ended up with two
Google accounts somehow, and my other address is associated with the
other account. How annoying!! So I'm going to close this down in the
future.
Meanwhile I'm starting my blog over under the
other account, and will just leave this one up long enough for everyone
who peeks at this to find my new one here.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Saturday, June 22, 2013
D-I-V-O-R-C-E
Yesterday my attorney called to let me know the divorce had been finalized. She commented about my being able to go out and celebrate this weekend. It was a well-meant comment since I think she feels very sympathetic toward the problems I've been dealing with in the meantime. Still, even if I could afford a celebration (which I can't), nothing is further from my mind. It's just a necessary evil.
I married M. (may as well stop calling him D.H. now) for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death would us part. I meant it. And even though it was all worse and all sickness, I still figured I'd wait for death. Until his sickness began infecting the kids in a very obvious way. Then I figured we would just stay separated. I wasn't interested in "freedom." I just didn't want him being able to hurt us any more, emotionally or financially.
When he revealed that he was seeing another young man, however, I began to feel that not getting a divorce would just be pointless. He wasn't letting a marriage certificate stop him from doing anything; and it took about five minutes of reflection with this new puzzle piece to realize that he never had. At least two very strange and abnormal friendships suddenly made sense, as did his constant efforts to keep me out of his social circle at the most ridiculous costs.
I do not write this to make anyone who walked away under less horrendous circumstances feel bad. Please don't take it that way. I see now that I should have left long before. All I'm saying is that I don't feel any sense of elation over the finalization. Just a renewed grief at the loss of my dreams, combined with relief at the knowledge that he can no longer prevent my new dreams.
I have changed a lot in the year since he's been away. One year tomorrow, in fact. It was on this day last year that I finally gained my parents' support in refusing to go home or leave him alone with the children, and at 2AM the next morning he finally agreed to go to the hospital. Only because I refused to have sex with him unless he went. I felt so guilty for lying to him by implying that I would later, knowing that I was not about to let him come home. But I had to get him to a professional somehow.
Now I make plans and decisions without fear, without knowing deep down that he will somehow sabotage them, without wondering how he will make me look bad in front of someone this time when I can't follow through because of his selfishness.
On Tuesday, he walked out in front of a car and was hit. He's been in the ICU most of the week, no apparent permanent injuries but a cracked skull nevertheless. He was meeting his stepdad to get a crowbar for a "side job" that day. I have no doubt whatsoever that the side job involved breaking and entering. Evidently God had other ideas. I did not want to go to the hospital. I feel he does not deserve to take up any more of my life, and I am already struggling to keep pace with school and the kids. But I went anyway, that first day. I decided it was important for the kids to know that I had gone. They haven't seen him for over a month now. When he's released from the ICU, I will take them to see him before he leaves the hospital. He can't do anything irrational there; or rather, we will be safer there if he does.
Whiz Kid has been deathly afraid of swimming. I promised him if he went swimming every day at summer camp, we could do something special this weekend. I had in mind taking them to a movie. He did go swimming every day. And he wants to save his prize until his dad is released, and meet him for dinner somewhere. I can't quite figure out how to tell him that the first thing Papa will want to do is go get high, and after that we can't see him.
Sign Language is going well. I'm loving it. It is taking far more time than I expected, however; so I dropped one of my fall courses because I will be taking the second level of ASL. I have realized I can't take three other courses, plus ASL, plus do Work Study, and still keep up with things at home.
I'm taking Introductory Psychology too. I love the material. I hate the professor. It's an online course and she can't communicate, has terrible grammar, gives incorrect information in the assignment descriptions, and assigned a group project. For an online course. I will make sure I never, ever take a course she is teaching again.
It was very vindicating to read, however, that studies have proven beyond any doubt that watching violence makes people more violent. Whether adult or child, violent crime or violent porn. All violence inspires more violence in its viewers. Despite the Supreme Court's refusal to ban the sale of violent games to children. Why are these statistics ignored? Why are we still talking about banning guns? Why are parents still letting their kids play and watch violence? Why, why, why?
I wish I could make a huge difference. So many things need changing. I guess I'll have to settle for the small difference, though. Starting with my own kids.
I married M. (may as well stop calling him D.H. now) for better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death would us part. I meant it. And even though it was all worse and all sickness, I still figured I'd wait for death. Until his sickness began infecting the kids in a very obvious way. Then I figured we would just stay separated. I wasn't interested in "freedom." I just didn't want him being able to hurt us any more, emotionally or financially.
When he revealed that he was seeing another young man, however, I began to feel that not getting a divorce would just be pointless. He wasn't letting a marriage certificate stop him from doing anything; and it took about five minutes of reflection with this new puzzle piece to realize that he never had. At least two very strange and abnormal friendships suddenly made sense, as did his constant efforts to keep me out of his social circle at the most ridiculous costs.
I do not write this to make anyone who walked away under less horrendous circumstances feel bad. Please don't take it that way. I see now that I should have left long before. All I'm saying is that I don't feel any sense of elation over the finalization. Just a renewed grief at the loss of my dreams, combined with relief at the knowledge that he can no longer prevent my new dreams.
I have changed a lot in the year since he's been away. One year tomorrow, in fact. It was on this day last year that I finally gained my parents' support in refusing to go home or leave him alone with the children, and at 2AM the next morning he finally agreed to go to the hospital. Only because I refused to have sex with him unless he went. I felt so guilty for lying to him by implying that I would later, knowing that I was not about to let him come home. But I had to get him to a professional somehow.
Now I make plans and decisions without fear, without knowing deep down that he will somehow sabotage them, without wondering how he will make me look bad in front of someone this time when I can't follow through because of his selfishness.
On Tuesday, he walked out in front of a car and was hit. He's been in the ICU most of the week, no apparent permanent injuries but a cracked skull nevertheless. He was meeting his stepdad to get a crowbar for a "side job" that day. I have no doubt whatsoever that the side job involved breaking and entering. Evidently God had other ideas. I did not want to go to the hospital. I feel he does not deserve to take up any more of my life, and I am already struggling to keep pace with school and the kids. But I went anyway, that first day. I decided it was important for the kids to know that I had gone. They haven't seen him for over a month now. When he's released from the ICU, I will take them to see him before he leaves the hospital. He can't do anything irrational there; or rather, we will be safer there if he does.
Whiz Kid has been deathly afraid of swimming. I promised him if he went swimming every day at summer camp, we could do something special this weekend. I had in mind taking them to a movie. He did go swimming every day. And he wants to save his prize until his dad is released, and meet him for dinner somewhere. I can't quite figure out how to tell him that the first thing Papa will want to do is go get high, and after that we can't see him.
Sign Language is going well. I'm loving it. It is taking far more time than I expected, however; so I dropped one of my fall courses because I will be taking the second level of ASL. I have realized I can't take three other courses, plus ASL, plus do Work Study, and still keep up with things at home.
I'm taking Introductory Psychology too. I love the material. I hate the professor. It's an online course and she can't communicate, has terrible grammar, gives incorrect information in the assignment descriptions, and assigned a group project. For an online course. I will make sure I never, ever take a course she is teaching again.
It was very vindicating to read, however, that studies have proven beyond any doubt that watching violence makes people more violent. Whether adult or child, violent crime or violent porn. All violence inspires more violence in its viewers. Despite the Supreme Court's refusal to ban the sale of violent games to children. Why are these statistics ignored? Why are we still talking about banning guns? Why are parents still letting their kids play and watch violence? Why, why, why?
I wish I could make a huge difference. So many things need changing. I guess I'll have to settle for the small difference, though. Starting with my own kids.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Looking forward to summer
Well, we set a date for joining the Church. In other words, baptism and chrismation. It will be June 26th. I'm really happy and looking forward to it. The godparents have been selected, patron saints chosen, and a few close friends and family have promised to attend. It will be one year almost to the day since DH and I separated, and I will be just finishing my second semester, so the feelings are very mixed but mostly of joy and freedom. Our lives are moving forward, solidifying, taking root. And it just so happens that our First Communion that weekend will be at a special open air service with another Orthodox church from the area. That will be very nice.
One of the things I have wondered most about is the sacrament of confession. My thoughts on that right now are that while God certainly does not need a priest to stand in for Him when we ask forgiveness for our trespasses, yet the church needs to know that we acknowledge and are working to overcome our faults. I see confession as a way of maintaining some standard of sincerity and purity in what is defined as "Christian." God looks on the heart, but the Church must rely on our outward expressions.
The Orthodox Church has many traditions, but few doctrines. I feel that is as it should be. I don't consider traditions to be idolatry, or vain repetitions. I consider them simply a form of worship. The ultimate goal is to serve God, and that can only be achieved in your own heart. Spend your time policing how others do it, and you will fail to do it yourself.
I had the very painful task today of informing DH that we will not be seeing him any more unless he goes back to an inpatient rehab facility. I'm pretty certain he will not. He didn't take me seriously as far as I could tell. He's taking benzocaines again, supposedly prescribed but I could care less at this point. He is dangerously crazy on those medications and visits are like Russian roulette. I won't do it any more. He became furious and threatening with his mom last week for not allowing him into a room in the home they were cleaning that contained valuables. She stuck to her guns and called his stepfather when she felt unsafe, and DH left her apartment again. This time she says he's not coming back unless he goes to inpatient rehab. She never should have let him back the first time, but like me she had to reach her own breaking point and find out for herself what he was really up to.
The really painful talk will be when the boys start to ask questions, though. I'm so glad that summer is coming with all the bustle we have lined up. They will be in summer camps and also attending a week of VBS at our new church, in addition to the baptism and the meetings leading up to it. Plus I am budgeting a day at the Pirate Festival next month out of my leftover Student Financial Aid. There is no spending money in the cash assistance every month, only gas, bills, and diapers; so I rely on that extra few hundred every 8 weeks for the extras we need, since the KEYS program pays for my textbooks. Like shoes for Little Bear. I just bought him a new pair from the consignment shop that looked like top quality, but I guess I was wrong. They tore after three weeks. Now he's going to school with boots until I get another pair. Grr....
I have wanted to take the boys to the Strawberry Festival every year, but it has never worked out. This year I was counting on my back tax returns to pay for it. But the IRS is a master at withholding information, so because of more paperwork they wanted me to sign (but of course didn't mention until I started raising a fuss) I will not be getting that money until mid-August. It was supposed to be here around now. Bummer. I guess the Strawberry Festival will wait until next year.
I am soooo looking forward to this summer. I'm building relationships with people I want to be around, making memories with my children, and gaining the skills I need to hopefully be independent someday. I start ASL this coming semester, and I can't wait. I've gotten two prizes for attendance and promptness from the KEYS program, and will be getting another soon for my grades, which are near perfect and should qualify me for several scholarships when I transfer. It's going to be a good summer.
One of the things I have wondered most about is the sacrament of confession. My thoughts on that right now are that while God certainly does not need a priest to stand in for Him when we ask forgiveness for our trespasses, yet the church needs to know that we acknowledge and are working to overcome our faults. I see confession as a way of maintaining some standard of sincerity and purity in what is defined as "Christian." God looks on the heart, but the Church must rely on our outward expressions.
The Orthodox Church has many traditions, but few doctrines. I feel that is as it should be. I don't consider traditions to be idolatry, or vain repetitions. I consider them simply a form of worship. The ultimate goal is to serve God, and that can only be achieved in your own heart. Spend your time policing how others do it, and you will fail to do it yourself.
I had the very painful task today of informing DH that we will not be seeing him any more unless he goes back to an inpatient rehab facility. I'm pretty certain he will not. He didn't take me seriously as far as I could tell. He's taking benzocaines again, supposedly prescribed but I could care less at this point. He is dangerously crazy on those medications and visits are like Russian roulette. I won't do it any more. He became furious and threatening with his mom last week for not allowing him into a room in the home they were cleaning that contained valuables. She stuck to her guns and called his stepfather when she felt unsafe, and DH left her apartment again. This time she says he's not coming back unless he goes to inpatient rehab. She never should have let him back the first time, but like me she had to reach her own breaking point and find out for herself what he was really up to.
The really painful talk will be when the boys start to ask questions, though. I'm so glad that summer is coming with all the bustle we have lined up. They will be in summer camps and also attending a week of VBS at our new church, in addition to the baptism and the meetings leading up to it. Plus I am budgeting a day at the Pirate Festival next month out of my leftover Student Financial Aid. There is no spending money in the cash assistance every month, only gas, bills, and diapers; so I rely on that extra few hundred every 8 weeks for the extras we need, since the KEYS program pays for my textbooks. Like shoes for Little Bear. I just bought him a new pair from the consignment shop that looked like top quality, but I guess I was wrong. They tore after three weeks. Now he's going to school with boots until I get another pair. Grr....
I have wanted to take the boys to the Strawberry Festival every year, but it has never worked out. This year I was counting on my back tax returns to pay for it. But the IRS is a master at withholding information, so because of more paperwork they wanted me to sign (but of course didn't mention until I started raising a fuss) I will not be getting that money until mid-August. It was supposed to be here around now. Bummer. I guess the Strawberry Festival will wait until next year.
I am soooo looking forward to this summer. I'm building relationships with people I want to be around, making memories with my children, and gaining the skills I need to hopefully be independent someday. I start ASL this coming semester, and I can't wait. I've gotten two prizes for attendance and promptness from the KEYS program, and will be getting another soon for my grades, which are near perfect and should qualify me for several scholarships when I transfer. It's going to be a good summer.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Spring almost
Well, I did change my major. I had a meeting with a career advisor today who told me that almost all of the courses needed for psychology and sociology were compatible, and that a Bachelor's in Social Work is one of the most versatile degrees available. Add ASL to that and I have probably the best chance of good employment I could ask for. So that's what I'm doing, and later on when the kids are older, if my situation allows I can go back for my doctorate in psychology without having to take many extra courses.
My sociology professor was fired. Not sure why. The emergency fill-in professor is fine. I don't like his method of teaching as much, but I like him. He's an older man, a practicing psychologist who has worked many years with psychotic and juvenile delinquent populations. Lots of life experience to bring, just not directly related to sociology. Whatever. I'll get through this and move on. I might not be learning what I expected from him, but I'm still learning things that interest me.
I'm expecting we will be joining the Orthodox Church around the end of May. I'm still very nervous about that, but not because I think it might be the wrong religion. I'm just having a hard time with any religion right now. I need a church family, though, and so do the boys; and I'm far too spiritual a person to believe in atheism. I can't even when I want to. I believe there is a Creator, and that He is actively involved with creation; and I no longer think it matters exactly HOW we worship Him, just that we do it without causing harm to others and without selfish motives. I think that faith is everything, while religion is just a material casting to give us a sense of unity. The mysticism of the Orthodox faith is comforting to me, because I no longer see any logic whatsoever in religion. The thing that keeps me believing in God is the power of prayer. That's mystic. There is nothing logical or scientific about prayer. It's 100% spiritual.
Because of all this I've thought a lot about whether I believe Jesus is the Son of God, and I do. I have read a lot about the origins of various religions in my history course, and although there are sometimes miracles ascribed to other religious figures, it's nothing remotely like the historic descriptions of Jesus. A lot of people witnessed a lot of supernatural occurrences surrounding him, and even for centuries afterward there were eyewitness accounts of supernatural occurrences involving early saints and martyrs. These seemed to wane as time went by, but they can't all be ascribed to people's active imaginations. If that were the case we would have similar numbers of similar stories around other religious figures in other places. But we don't. In comparing these stories with the social timeline of history, the dropoff of these supernatural events seems to coincide with the emergence of science as a leading authority. And we know today that many people will witness unexplainable events and simply deny them or block them out because science says that what they just saw couldn't be.
Anyway. The Princess is doing well in daycare 3 days a week. I was really feeling guilty about "institutionalizing" her, but she enjoys it, and I'm glad I signed her up since my Grandmother has set out to make my mom's life as difficult as possible. Just tonight, after being up and about all day, she was condemning Mother to terrible fates for not assisting her into the bed IMMEDIATELY upon request. She refused to hear that Mom was in the middle of something important and could not stop right away. It was hard for me to keep quiet, since she could easily have done it herself but chose to harass my mom instead. I went down because she was wailing and moaning for help, expecting to find her fallen off the bed or something. But she was sitting in the chair perfectly fine, apparently just being dramatic because Mom had committed the awful offense of leaving the room before Grandmother excused her. When I came down, she got up with very little assistance and went grouching to the bed, calling down wrath on my mom for being so cruel. I wanted to tell her that Mother is an icon of patience in dealing with her nonsense, but it would only make things worse. It's good to have a couple of us she DOESN'T hate so that someone can calm her down when she gets carried away. She's thrown things several times.
As you may imagine, however, this has made it nearly impossible for my mom to watch the kids or cook meals, etc. So if the baby wasn't in daycare I'd be in serious trouble right now. The boys will be in summer camps 6 weeks, spread out over the 14-week summer; and I'm thinking I might need to increase those numbers. I don't want them in ALL summer, but their care is subsidized weekly, not daily; so when they are home they are home for a week. And I will have to raise the baby to 4 days in order to get sufficient study time. I was hoping to get to the end of this semester without doing that, but it's looking more and more doubtful. I really can't study here at all now. Little Bear will be in 1st grade this fall, so school will last all day; and I'm thinking rather than put the boys in aftercare and try to cram all my study into the 3 days I have classes, it might be better to do 4 days a week with the Princess and make them shorter, so I can be home in the late afternoon and evenings. Right now I don't drop her off until after 10, and then two days I pick her up after 5:30. But I'm going to have to take her in earlier because I'm not getting enough study time. I think she will do better overall with more days, but shorter. She likes going there, but 5-6 hours seems like her tolerance level. By 4 o'clock she's ready to go home.
So, hopefully all this will produce something good in the end.
My sociology professor was fired. Not sure why. The emergency fill-in professor is fine. I don't like his method of teaching as much, but I like him. He's an older man, a practicing psychologist who has worked many years with psychotic and juvenile delinquent populations. Lots of life experience to bring, just not directly related to sociology. Whatever. I'll get through this and move on. I might not be learning what I expected from him, but I'm still learning things that interest me.
I'm expecting we will be joining the Orthodox Church around the end of May. I'm still very nervous about that, but not because I think it might be the wrong religion. I'm just having a hard time with any religion right now. I need a church family, though, and so do the boys; and I'm far too spiritual a person to believe in atheism. I can't even when I want to. I believe there is a Creator, and that He is actively involved with creation; and I no longer think it matters exactly HOW we worship Him, just that we do it without causing harm to others and without selfish motives. I think that faith is everything, while religion is just a material casting to give us a sense of unity. The mysticism of the Orthodox faith is comforting to me, because I no longer see any logic whatsoever in religion. The thing that keeps me believing in God is the power of prayer. That's mystic. There is nothing logical or scientific about prayer. It's 100% spiritual.
Because of all this I've thought a lot about whether I believe Jesus is the Son of God, and I do. I have read a lot about the origins of various religions in my history course, and although there are sometimes miracles ascribed to other religious figures, it's nothing remotely like the historic descriptions of Jesus. A lot of people witnessed a lot of supernatural occurrences surrounding him, and even for centuries afterward there were eyewitness accounts of supernatural occurrences involving early saints and martyrs. These seemed to wane as time went by, but they can't all be ascribed to people's active imaginations. If that were the case we would have similar numbers of similar stories around other religious figures in other places. But we don't. In comparing these stories with the social timeline of history, the dropoff of these supernatural events seems to coincide with the emergence of science as a leading authority. And we know today that many people will witness unexplainable events and simply deny them or block them out because science says that what they just saw couldn't be.
Anyway. The Princess is doing well in daycare 3 days a week. I was really feeling guilty about "institutionalizing" her, but she enjoys it, and I'm glad I signed her up since my Grandmother has set out to make my mom's life as difficult as possible. Just tonight, after being up and about all day, she was condemning Mother to terrible fates for not assisting her into the bed IMMEDIATELY upon request. She refused to hear that Mom was in the middle of something important and could not stop right away. It was hard for me to keep quiet, since she could easily have done it herself but chose to harass my mom instead. I went down because she was wailing and moaning for help, expecting to find her fallen off the bed or something. But she was sitting in the chair perfectly fine, apparently just being dramatic because Mom had committed the awful offense of leaving the room before Grandmother excused her. When I came down, she got up with very little assistance and went grouching to the bed, calling down wrath on my mom for being so cruel. I wanted to tell her that Mother is an icon of patience in dealing with her nonsense, but it would only make things worse. It's good to have a couple of us she DOESN'T hate so that someone can calm her down when she gets carried away. She's thrown things several times.
As you may imagine, however, this has made it nearly impossible for my mom to watch the kids or cook meals, etc. So if the baby wasn't in daycare I'd be in serious trouble right now. The boys will be in summer camps 6 weeks, spread out over the 14-week summer; and I'm thinking I might need to increase those numbers. I don't want them in ALL summer, but their care is subsidized weekly, not daily; so when they are home they are home for a week. And I will have to raise the baby to 4 days in order to get sufficient study time. I was hoping to get to the end of this semester without doing that, but it's looking more and more doubtful. I really can't study here at all now. Little Bear will be in 1st grade this fall, so school will last all day; and I'm thinking rather than put the boys in aftercare and try to cram all my study into the 3 days I have classes, it might be better to do 4 days a week with the Princess and make them shorter, so I can be home in the late afternoon and evenings. Right now I don't drop her off until after 10, and then two days I pick her up after 5:30. But I'm going to have to take her in earlier because I'm not getting enough study time. I think she will do better overall with more days, but shorter. She likes going there, but 5-6 hours seems like her tolerance level. By 4 o'clock she's ready to go home.
So, hopefully all this will produce something good in the end.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
College and Family
So today was my first college class. The professor asked how many of us took Sociology in high school. I resisted the urge to laugh aloud. I'm pretty sure both "Sociology" and "High school" are dirty words to my Mom. I'm going to love this class. It's all of the things I'm most interested in, which makes me wonder if I should get my degree in Sociology instead. (Can you do anything with a degree in Sociology? I'd love to know.) Best of all, the professor is a Lutheran pastor not much older than me, married with kids, from a family that sounds an awful lot like my Mom's. And it sounds like he shares about as many of their opinions as I do. I'll be sorry when this class is over.
Speaking of Mom's family, my sister drove us south to visit them over the weekend. I'm so glad we went, as I don't feel confident about making it back down there any time in the near future. My dad's father passed away without ever meeting the boys, and I was very sad about that. We stayed with my Grandpa the first two nights, and at the house of my mother's favorite aunt the third night. Our plan was to leave that afternoon and spend the fourth night with my sister's mother-in-law (different sister), then arrive home this morning in time for my classes. Since the baby and I both developed ear infections ON THE WAY DOWN, however, that was putting a major damper on everything. Fortunately the Princess didn't suffer long, and seemed okay the second day. Whiz Kid wrestled with a sinus infection. But I was lucky enough to get my period at the same time, which always knocks my immune system flat. So after two days of sore ears and throat, fever, and general misery, I swapped the useless and expensive vitamins for Advil and was ready to just go home. We were able to meet my Uncle's new wife, a very sweet lady from China, at their informal reception Sunday. Most of the core relatives were there, and although I was glad to meet them I was more than ready to go home once it was over. I worried about crossing the mountains because of the pressure changes, but we made it to the mother-in-law's house without severe discomfort, for which I was very thankful.
As soon as I saw her house I wanted to kick myself for having decided not to stay the night. It was a converted barn, huge and amazing and my idea of a perfect house in every way. (At least the downstairs.) She offered to let us reconsider, and had toys for the kids to play with, but I really wanted to get home. We only had another 2.5 hours to go and I needed to sleep on my own mattress before my spine rearranged itself completely.
Good thing we didn't. When we got back on the interstate the car began making a disturbing noise. We had a bad wheel bearing. We called Dad and he said we could drive slowly and probably get home okay, but in twice the time. Ugh. At least we hadn't waited until the next morning to find out, because I would never have gotten to class if we had. My sister drove 35 MPH all the rest of the way home. She's an angel. We got in at 1AM. It wasn't too bad except for the 30-mile stretch we HAD to be on the interstate in order to cross the river. Good thing it was late at night and there was little traffic. We were nearly run down by a couple of trucks as it was. Apparently "emergency" flashers don't mean "emergency" to everyone.
I registered for my summer and fall classes today, and was very excited to see that the college has added ASL courses! Whoohoo! Obviously I registered for them. The first course uses the same book I'm currently using, and it will save me a lot of time to take a college course instead of the classes. It looks like I may have to go with General Studies as a major, though, and that's annoying me. I was sure I had seen Human Services as an Associate degree on the college website, but it's only up as a transfer degree right now. Which leaves me with the same problem I had going for a Psychology degree. I don't see any two-year degrees in any related fields, so I guess my best bet is just to take as many courses as possible in related fields and then start with another institution when I have enough credits. In case I hadn't mentioned it before, none of the institutions that have transfer agreements with the community college offer higher-level ASL classes. And those high-level classes MUST be taken through a college. They aren't offered independently.
While driving home last night my sister and I were talking to keep ourselves awake, and we got on the subject of Mom again. She reiterated again that Mom feels I reject her, and I was trying to explain that Mom only feels that way because she chooses to interpret any disagreement I have with her as a rejection of her personally. My sister didn't believe that. So this morning I tried to talk to my Mom about it. Of course she said that she does not feel rejected simply because I disagree with her about things. Then she proceeded to point out AGAIN all the areas in which my disagreement is unacceptable.
In other words, I was right. And I'm not wasting any more of my life coddling other people's feelings. My sister even went so far as to say that I should have more consideration for how all this stuff with DH has traumatized Mom. Really? When if she hadn't personally witnessed his breakdown she'd still be hounding me to get back together with him? That's how she advises, you know. She HOUNDS. Like a dog on your heels. Even after you've explained 500 times why you feel differently. The NIGHT BEFORE his episode she refused to keep the children until I got home, saying she wouldn't feel right keeping them from their father. THAT'S traumatizing. Knowing that your mother is looking out for everyone else but you. It was always that way until last summer. But oh how quickly we like to forget, and then get angry when others remember.
She has mentioned several times how much she wants to be my friend. And while I'd like to think that will happen someday, I know that it won't. Because what she means by friend is inaccurate. She wants to be my mentor, my forever teacher, my Mother Superior. To have me hang on her every word and sweetly gobble up all of her advice and be the person she wanted to be. She doesn't want to be MY friend. She wants me to be HER friend.
The kind of friendship I need right now is the kind that takes many years of closeness to establish. She has no right to expect to fill that gap by default simply because she prevented me from forming any others that fit the bill. I suppose she will always feel rejected, and always believe that my opinions are based on a desire to be different from her and not on actual beliefs. And you know what? That's insulting, and inexcusable, and I will not pretend it's okay. When I started taking catechumen classes at the Orthodox Church, she made a comment one day to the effect that "Maybe you and I should sit down sometime so I can give you MY religious classes." If anyone else had said that to me, I would not have spoken to them again. It was so condescending, so incredibly self-righteous and disrespectful, and on top of that it was downright stupid considering that I spent 20 YEARS in her religious classes, every morning and every evening and for 3-4 hours every Sunday! There is nothing more she could possibly tell me about her religious opinions, and I DISAGREE! After lots of research and study of various Christian traditions, I DISAGREE! Deal with it! The more I try to talk to her, the more obvious it is that she will not accept my differences as anything but rebellion or ignorance. So let her think that. It's her problem. And it IS a problem. I'm not going to let them make it mine.
Speaking of Mom's family, my sister drove us south to visit them over the weekend. I'm so glad we went, as I don't feel confident about making it back down there any time in the near future. My dad's father passed away without ever meeting the boys, and I was very sad about that. We stayed with my Grandpa the first two nights, and at the house of my mother's favorite aunt the third night. Our plan was to leave that afternoon and spend the fourth night with my sister's mother-in-law (different sister), then arrive home this morning in time for my classes. Since the baby and I both developed ear infections ON THE WAY DOWN, however, that was putting a major damper on everything. Fortunately the Princess didn't suffer long, and seemed okay the second day. Whiz Kid wrestled with a sinus infection. But I was lucky enough to get my period at the same time, which always knocks my immune system flat. So after two days of sore ears and throat, fever, and general misery, I swapped the useless and expensive vitamins for Advil and was ready to just go home. We were able to meet my Uncle's new wife, a very sweet lady from China, at their informal reception Sunday. Most of the core relatives were there, and although I was glad to meet them I was more than ready to go home once it was over. I worried about crossing the mountains because of the pressure changes, but we made it to the mother-in-law's house without severe discomfort, for which I was very thankful.
As soon as I saw her house I wanted to kick myself for having decided not to stay the night. It was a converted barn, huge and amazing and my idea of a perfect house in every way. (At least the downstairs.) She offered to let us reconsider, and had toys for the kids to play with, but I really wanted to get home. We only had another 2.5 hours to go and I needed to sleep on my own mattress before my spine rearranged itself completely.
Good thing we didn't. When we got back on the interstate the car began making a disturbing noise. We had a bad wheel bearing. We called Dad and he said we could drive slowly and probably get home okay, but in twice the time. Ugh. At least we hadn't waited until the next morning to find out, because I would never have gotten to class if we had. My sister drove 35 MPH all the rest of the way home. She's an angel. We got in at 1AM. It wasn't too bad except for the 30-mile stretch we HAD to be on the interstate in order to cross the river. Good thing it was late at night and there was little traffic. We were nearly run down by a couple of trucks as it was. Apparently "emergency" flashers don't mean "emergency" to everyone.
I registered for my summer and fall classes today, and was very excited to see that the college has added ASL courses! Whoohoo! Obviously I registered for them. The first course uses the same book I'm currently using, and it will save me a lot of time to take a college course instead of the classes. It looks like I may have to go with General Studies as a major, though, and that's annoying me. I was sure I had seen Human Services as an Associate degree on the college website, but it's only up as a transfer degree right now. Which leaves me with the same problem I had going for a Psychology degree. I don't see any two-year degrees in any related fields, so I guess my best bet is just to take as many courses as possible in related fields and then start with another institution when I have enough credits. In case I hadn't mentioned it before, none of the institutions that have transfer agreements with the community college offer higher-level ASL classes. And those high-level classes MUST be taken through a college. They aren't offered independently.
While driving home last night my sister and I were talking to keep ourselves awake, and we got on the subject of Mom again. She reiterated again that Mom feels I reject her, and I was trying to explain that Mom only feels that way because she chooses to interpret any disagreement I have with her as a rejection of her personally. My sister didn't believe that. So this morning I tried to talk to my Mom about it. Of course she said that she does not feel rejected simply because I disagree with her about things. Then she proceeded to point out AGAIN all the areas in which my disagreement is unacceptable.
In other words, I was right. And I'm not wasting any more of my life coddling other people's feelings. My sister even went so far as to say that I should have more consideration for how all this stuff with DH has traumatized Mom. Really? When if she hadn't personally witnessed his breakdown she'd still be hounding me to get back together with him? That's how she advises, you know. She HOUNDS. Like a dog on your heels. Even after you've explained 500 times why you feel differently. The NIGHT BEFORE his episode she refused to keep the children until I got home, saying she wouldn't feel right keeping them from their father. THAT'S traumatizing. Knowing that your mother is looking out for everyone else but you. It was always that way until last summer. But oh how quickly we like to forget, and then get angry when others remember.
She has mentioned several times how much she wants to be my friend. And while I'd like to think that will happen someday, I know that it won't. Because what she means by friend is inaccurate. She wants to be my mentor, my forever teacher, my Mother Superior. To have me hang on her every word and sweetly gobble up all of her advice and be the person she wanted to be. She doesn't want to be MY friend. She wants me to be HER friend.
The kind of friendship I need right now is the kind that takes many years of closeness to establish. She has no right to expect to fill that gap by default simply because she prevented me from forming any others that fit the bill. I suppose she will always feel rejected, and always believe that my opinions are based on a desire to be different from her and not on actual beliefs. And you know what? That's insulting, and inexcusable, and I will not pretend it's okay. When I started taking catechumen classes at the Orthodox Church, she made a comment one day to the effect that "Maybe you and I should sit down sometime so I can give you MY religious classes." If anyone else had said that to me, I would not have spoken to them again. It was so condescending, so incredibly self-righteous and disrespectful, and on top of that it was downright stupid considering that I spent 20 YEARS in her religious classes, every morning and every evening and for 3-4 hours every Sunday! There is nothing more she could possibly tell me about her religious opinions, and I DISAGREE! After lots of research and study of various Christian traditions, I DISAGREE! Deal with it! The more I try to talk to her, the more obvious it is that she will not accept my differences as anything but rebellion or ignorance. So let her think that. It's her problem. And it IS a problem. I'm not going to let them make it mine.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Wow. It's amazing how much avoiding Facebook can improve my mood. I should have done this sooner. Oh, and it saves time too. Lol.
I'm really sad to be missing the first three Sundays of Lent at St. Michael's. But it can't be helped. We have to leave at 8:15 AM to get there in time, and the flu just keeps going around... and around... and around... Ugh. It's hard to get up at 7AM when the kids didn't fall asleep until 9:30 and two of them were up in the middle of the night. At different times. And the dog wouldn't keep quiet. Even with earplugs I'm still lucky to get 8 hours of sleep at night.
Mom lets me put the Princess in the playpen in their bedroom after she wakes up for her 4 AM bottle. That helps. And for some reason she loves sleeping in there. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that the pillow smells like my Dad. She has started to really warm up to him since getting her glasses. She runs and hugs him when he comes in from work, and often Little Bear does too. It makes me happy to see them "adopting" him as a father figure. I couldn't ask for a better one, despite our strong theoretical differences. Actions speak louder than words, I have to remember, and that works both ways.
Oh yeah, the Princess has glasses. The doctor says she's very farsighted, and she definitely prefers to have them on unless she's tired. She has been cross-eyed since about 8 months old, so that's how we found out. She's still stubborn and snooty, but more sociable than she was. Also, she's become less interested in her musical toys and more interested in toys with faces. She calls anything with a face "baby," whether human or animal. She still loves music, though, and always dances to it by swaying gently back and forth. She's very independent and climbs like a little monkey. This forces us to confine her a lot more than I'd like to, for safety reasons. She figured out how to climb the bunk beds last week. She gets in all the cabinets and goes into my Grandmother's room if the door isn't latched, which is a real concern since my Grandmom has Alzheimer's and often takes her medicines to her room. She avoids taking them whenever possible and will hide them under things, but forgets and isn't shy about letting the baby poke around in there, assuring me that she has nothing dangerous out. I think she gets a little miffed sensing that I don't trust her with the baby, but it's not something I can explain. She will only feel bad and then forget soon after. I have to routinely check the door to make sure it's closed completely.
I asked the school counselor to put Whiz Kid in the lunch group again, and it seems to be helping. Getting to see a psychiatrist is a laborious process here, and the only way to speed it up is partial hospitalization treatment. That requires spending mornings at the facility and then afternoons in school for a week or so. I don't think that's necessary or a good idea, because he's doing very well in school and I don't want to mess with that.
Sadly, I can't escape the fact that as much as I want the kids to see their father, the boys seem much happier when we aren't seeing him every weekend. We had a dreadful visit last month which seemed to be a contributing factor to Whiz Kid's breakdown, and I told him we weren't going to visit on a schedule any more but just take it week by week. We didn't see him for three weeks. Then his mom paid for us to go to a museum and brought him with her (she asked me first), and he seemed fine that day. So yesterday we saw him again, but he wasn't doing well. It's so frustrating how unpredictable his behavior is. I really wish we didn't have to see him at all. I firmly believe it would be better for the kids, and I know it would be for me. I just struggle with the question of whether I have a moral right to end it flat out. I'm aware that I have the legal right. On the other hand, weeks like the one before last make me wonder if I have a moral obligation to end it.
You can't imagine how badly I want Spring. I am so tired of the cold, and the kids are so stir-crazy. I want us all to be active and alive again. My sisters have been taking them on ice-skating nights occasionally, which is awesome. I would love to go too, but I really have no time for socializing. Hopefully school will provide some of that without eating into my "mom" time. I can't wait for the garden to be in, either. My family always does one, and I don't have time to plant my own but I'm glad for the opportunity to work in theirs with the kids.
This weekend we're going to visit my mom's father with my sister. I have seen him only three times since reaching adulthood, and those were the first visits in many years. My Grandma always monopolized and controlled the conversations, so it was impossible to ever really visit him. She passed away last year, and I'm really looking forward to an actual visit with him. We will be seeing other relatives too, and I hope it will be a refreshing trip for all of us. When we get back, COLLEGE!!!!!! WHOOHOO!!!!!
I'm really sad to be missing the first three Sundays of Lent at St. Michael's. But it can't be helped. We have to leave at 8:15 AM to get there in time, and the flu just keeps going around... and around... and around... Ugh. It's hard to get up at 7AM when the kids didn't fall asleep until 9:30 and two of them were up in the middle of the night. At different times. And the dog wouldn't keep quiet. Even with earplugs I'm still lucky to get 8 hours of sleep at night.
Mom lets me put the Princess in the playpen in their bedroom after she wakes up for her 4 AM bottle. That helps. And for some reason she loves sleeping in there. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that the pillow smells like my Dad. She has started to really warm up to him since getting her glasses. She runs and hugs him when he comes in from work, and often Little Bear does too. It makes me happy to see them "adopting" him as a father figure. I couldn't ask for a better one, despite our strong theoretical differences. Actions speak louder than words, I have to remember, and that works both ways.
Oh yeah, the Princess has glasses. The doctor says she's very farsighted, and she definitely prefers to have them on unless she's tired. She has been cross-eyed since about 8 months old, so that's how we found out. She's still stubborn and snooty, but more sociable than she was. Also, she's become less interested in her musical toys and more interested in toys with faces. She calls anything with a face "baby," whether human or animal. She still loves music, though, and always dances to it by swaying gently back and forth. She's very independent and climbs like a little monkey. This forces us to confine her a lot more than I'd like to, for safety reasons. She figured out how to climb the bunk beds last week. She gets in all the cabinets and goes into my Grandmother's room if the door isn't latched, which is a real concern since my Grandmom has Alzheimer's and often takes her medicines to her room. She avoids taking them whenever possible and will hide them under things, but forgets and isn't shy about letting the baby poke around in there, assuring me that she has nothing dangerous out. I think she gets a little miffed sensing that I don't trust her with the baby, but it's not something I can explain. She will only feel bad and then forget soon after. I have to routinely check the door to make sure it's closed completely.
I asked the school counselor to put Whiz Kid in the lunch group again, and it seems to be helping. Getting to see a psychiatrist is a laborious process here, and the only way to speed it up is partial hospitalization treatment. That requires spending mornings at the facility and then afternoons in school for a week or so. I don't think that's necessary or a good idea, because he's doing very well in school and I don't want to mess with that.
Sadly, I can't escape the fact that as much as I want the kids to see their father, the boys seem much happier when we aren't seeing him every weekend. We had a dreadful visit last month which seemed to be a contributing factor to Whiz Kid's breakdown, and I told him we weren't going to visit on a schedule any more but just take it week by week. We didn't see him for three weeks. Then his mom paid for us to go to a museum and brought him with her (she asked me first), and he seemed fine that day. So yesterday we saw him again, but he wasn't doing well. It's so frustrating how unpredictable his behavior is. I really wish we didn't have to see him at all. I firmly believe it would be better for the kids, and I know it would be for me. I just struggle with the question of whether I have a moral right to end it flat out. I'm aware that I have the legal right. On the other hand, weeks like the one before last make me wonder if I have a moral obligation to end it.
You can't imagine how badly I want Spring. I am so tired of the cold, and the kids are so stir-crazy. I want us all to be active and alive again. My sisters have been taking them on ice-skating nights occasionally, which is awesome. I would love to go too, but I really have no time for socializing. Hopefully school will provide some of that without eating into my "mom" time. I can't wait for the garden to be in, either. My family always does one, and I don't have time to plant my own but I'm glad for the opportunity to work in theirs with the kids.
This weekend we're going to visit my mom's father with my sister. I have seen him only three times since reaching adulthood, and those were the first visits in many years. My Grandma always monopolized and controlled the conversations, so it was impossible to ever really visit him. She passed away last year, and I'm really looking forward to an actual visit with him. We will be seeing other relatives too, and I hope it will be a refreshing trip for all of us. When we get back, COLLEGE!!!!!! WHOOHOO!!!!!
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Goodbye Facebook
So, apparently I was wrong about the first day of Lent. Hehe. That's embarrassing. I don't know what was going through my head. There have been a lot of personal things going on; too personal to blog about without serious time to think, and too important to take that time out for. But I'll touch on some of the less important things.
Sierra wrote about activism fatigue the other day, and that's something I am definitely feeling. I'm tired of attempting meaningful conversations with family members, only to find out more and more things we disagree strongly on. I had a conversation with my Dad the other day that was terribly disappointing; I always thought of him as the sensible, reasonable parent. I guess I was wrong. I'm tired of Facebook for the same reason. It provides too many opportunities for finding out how outrageous some of my loved ones' opinions and beliefs are. It took me so many years to be willing to speak up about my own beliefs; and now that I have started to, it's very embittering to put all that effort into a sensible argument only to be told that the facts cannot be true because ______ (insert random Bible verse here); or that my experiences are invalid because ______ (same idea). Sometimes I can hardly believe I share a planet with them, let alone the name of "Christian."
My family's biggest philosophical flaw is their belief that most people are as thoughtful and discreet in their actions as themselves. They couldn't be more wrong. And as evidenced dramatically in the argument with my Dad, when it comes to personal rights they want to take ideals and standards that can only be handled responsibly by persons of the HIGHEST moral integrity, and apply them across the board. A recipe for disaster in every way. Most frustrating is that even in the face of their children's experiences, they will insist their way was best and the outcome has been some sort of unforseeable exception.
Anyway, I won't be on Facebook for a while. I'm starting classes in two weeks, I need to get back to seeing my counselor before I start freaking out on people, and my oldest needs to see a psychiatrist. (My parents would probably recommend the wooden or leather kind, which would only drive us further apart, so add that to the list of THINGS I CAN'T TALK ABOUT WITH RELATIVES. Most of my personal life is on it at this point.) The boys and I are going to start family counseling as well. We have several things coming up with school, and my Innocent Spouse Relief was approved, so when that money comes back I plan to enroll the boys in some sports activities to help with their issues. I need a break from reading about how horrible the world can be, and hearing others insist it's not so. Or worse, that it's only so because we aren't all being better Christians. I'm tired of all the dissertations on how evil society is by those who laud themselves on being separate. If you want to know what's actually going on in society, TRY LIVING IN IT!!! Spend more time being the change and less time vilifying the lack of it.
My parents think today's social problems are the result of undisciplined children. They're not. The problems we see today are the result of a culture that promotes self-indulgence and mocks self-discipline, choosing instead to discipline the lives of others and compound the problem. Funny that as soon as you point this out, you're accused of overstepping your boundaries. It's perfectly acceptable to have a 60-minute sermon on the faults of society and of other churches/Christians/leaders; but try to say that God doesn't command you to beat your children, and suddenly you're a judgmental, nosy liberal who probably hates the Constitution too. I hear the complaint a lot that when it comes to children, we've become "a nation full of experts." Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black!
You know that verse, Proverbs 19:18, that says in the KJV, "Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying." I was curious to see how it read in the Orthodox Bible, which uses the Septuagint version of the Old Testament. I was floored by the difference. It reads, "Instruct your son, for thus he shall be hopeful, but do not lift up your soul in arrogance."
Talk about lost in translation. I'm starting to think most of what Christ came for has been lost in translation by now.
Sierra wrote about activism fatigue the other day, and that's something I am definitely feeling. I'm tired of attempting meaningful conversations with family members, only to find out more and more things we disagree strongly on. I had a conversation with my Dad the other day that was terribly disappointing; I always thought of him as the sensible, reasonable parent. I guess I was wrong. I'm tired of Facebook for the same reason. It provides too many opportunities for finding out how outrageous some of my loved ones' opinions and beliefs are. It took me so many years to be willing to speak up about my own beliefs; and now that I have started to, it's very embittering to put all that effort into a sensible argument only to be told that the facts cannot be true because ______ (insert random Bible verse here); or that my experiences are invalid because ______ (same idea). Sometimes I can hardly believe I share a planet with them, let alone the name of "Christian."
My family's biggest philosophical flaw is their belief that most people are as thoughtful and discreet in their actions as themselves. They couldn't be more wrong. And as evidenced dramatically in the argument with my Dad, when it comes to personal rights they want to take ideals and standards that can only be handled responsibly by persons of the HIGHEST moral integrity, and apply them across the board. A recipe for disaster in every way. Most frustrating is that even in the face of their children's experiences, they will insist their way was best and the outcome has been some sort of unforseeable exception.
Anyway, I won't be on Facebook for a while. I'm starting classes in two weeks, I need to get back to seeing my counselor before I start freaking out on people, and my oldest needs to see a psychiatrist. (My parents would probably recommend the wooden or leather kind, which would only drive us further apart, so add that to the list of THINGS I CAN'T TALK ABOUT WITH RELATIVES. Most of my personal life is on it at this point.) The boys and I are going to start family counseling as well. We have several things coming up with school, and my Innocent Spouse Relief was approved, so when that money comes back I plan to enroll the boys in some sports activities to help with their issues. I need a break from reading about how horrible the world can be, and hearing others insist it's not so. Or worse, that it's only so because we aren't all being better Christians. I'm tired of all the dissertations on how evil society is by those who laud themselves on being separate. If you want to know what's actually going on in society, TRY LIVING IN IT!!! Spend more time being the change and less time vilifying the lack of it.
My parents think today's social problems are the result of undisciplined children. They're not. The problems we see today are the result of a culture that promotes self-indulgence and mocks self-discipline, choosing instead to discipline the lives of others and compound the problem. Funny that as soon as you point this out, you're accused of overstepping your boundaries. It's perfectly acceptable to have a 60-minute sermon on the faults of society and of other churches/Christians/leaders; but try to say that God doesn't command you to beat your children, and suddenly you're a judgmental, nosy liberal who probably hates the Constitution too. I hear the complaint a lot that when it comes to children, we've become "a nation full of experts." Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black!
You know that verse, Proverbs 19:18, that says in the KJV, "Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying." I was curious to see how it read in the Orthodox Bible, which uses the Septuagint version of the Old Testament. I was floored by the difference. It reads, "Instruct your son, for thus he shall be hopeful, but do not lift up your soul in arrogance."
Talk about lost in translation. I'm starting to think most of what Christ came for has been lost in translation by now.
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