When I was a child I was absolutely doted on by my grandparents. When I would see my grandma she would take my face in her hands and exclaim, "What a treasure!" In her house she had toys and videos, art projects and books just for me. My grandpa would drive to my house and pick me up whenever I called him. Every kid should have grandparents like that.
Mine don't.
Today my little girl is turning three years old. My dad called to wish her a happy birthday this morning. He said that we would be getting a delivery of cookies sometime today. Maybe I'm a jerk, but I think this is a lame present. She has been talking about having rainbow princess cupcakes for weeks. We don't need a bunch of cookies too. Kids like toys.
Then he asked how old she was. "Is she turning four today?" I'm sorry, but that is seriously retarded.
If you are a grandparent and you don't know how old your little grandkids are, then you are seriously retarded, and you need to step up your grandparent game! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR BUTT!
I think my mom tries, but she isn't really good at hiding the fact that she really isn't a 'little kid' type of person. Yeah, she had six kids but she doesn't seem to enjoy spending too much time with children. Her career seems to be more important to her. She is getting ready to retire and just the other day she was talking to me about trying to find something that would give her some fulfullment in life after retirement. I said, "Sorry your family doesn't give your fulfillment, Mom!" I think that she thinks I am just kidding when I say this. I'm not.
This is very hurtful to me. The next time my Mom talks about 'finding fulfillment', I'm just going to tell her that I don't care about her fulfillment.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Monday, December 6, 2010
My Brother, M.
Let me tell you a little bit about my brother, M. He has problems. He uses illegal drugs. He drinks heavily. I'm pretty sure he's an alcoholic. He is covered in stupid tattoos. I see him maybe a couple of times a year. Whenever he shows up, he is in long sleeves and pants to cover the tattoos, regardless of the weather. I always think, "Hey, M. we can still see the ones on your hands, Dummy!"
He writes a monthly article for a magazine that is published online and in print in Salt Lake City. In his writing he likes to talk about how drunk he gets, what drugs he uses, how he likes to close the toilet seat at a party and poop on top of it. (That's called an upper-decker, by the way.) CLASSY. He also writes about his "big Mormon family." He swears like a sailor, but if you can get past that and the crass content, some of his writing can actually be pretty witty and funny. He has a pretty big following in SLC. He is pretty well-known. M. doesn't know that the whole family knows about his writing.
I know that this sounds harsh, but when I think of my brother, I think that he is a waste of space on the planet. He had every opportunity to have a successful life. My dad paid for him to go to college. M. failed math 1010 four times and then just dropped out. My dad even hired a tutor for him. The thing is, M. is really smart. What a waste. In 3-5 years he will probably die of cirrhosis of the liver and his funeral is going to be a big joke with a bunch of low-lifes who don't really care about him. As far as I can tell, he hasn't made any positive impact on society, or in any one's life.
But he is my brother, and I love him anyway. I want a relationship with him. I want to see him more often, even if that means he smells like cigarettes, or he's all hung-over.
His Facebook page wasn't set to private. So I would often go and check up on him, and see what was going on in his life. He truly is a disgusting person. Always talking about masturbation, or putting, "Mom quit sexting me!" for his status update. (My mom would be utterly horrified by this.) But it was nice to see that he was doing ok, if nothing else.
So at Thanksgiving I casually asked him about something, which basically indicated that I have seen his FB page. He seemed totally fine about it, no problem. We talked about the thing I had asked him about. I was actually really excited that he was so cool about it. I thought, now he knows that I have read that, so maybe we can have a more honest relationship; even if I don't like the person he has become.
The next day I went to check his FB page again. Private.
I seriously have hurt feelings about this. I guess he really doesn't want me to be a part of his life at all.
He writes a monthly article for a magazine that is published online and in print in Salt Lake City. In his writing he likes to talk about how drunk he gets, what drugs he uses, how he likes to close the toilet seat at a party and poop on top of it. (That's called an upper-decker, by the way.) CLASSY. He also writes about his "big Mormon family." He swears like a sailor, but if you can get past that and the crass content, some of his writing can actually be pretty witty and funny. He has a pretty big following in SLC. He is pretty well-known. M. doesn't know that the whole family knows about his writing.
I know that this sounds harsh, but when I think of my brother, I think that he is a waste of space on the planet. He had every opportunity to have a successful life. My dad paid for him to go to college. M. failed math 1010 four times and then just dropped out. My dad even hired a tutor for him. The thing is, M. is really smart. What a waste. In 3-5 years he will probably die of cirrhosis of the liver and his funeral is going to be a big joke with a bunch of low-lifes who don't really care about him. As far as I can tell, he hasn't made any positive impact on society, or in any one's life.
But he is my brother, and I love him anyway. I want a relationship with him. I want to see him more often, even if that means he smells like cigarettes, or he's all hung-over.
His Facebook page wasn't set to private. So I would often go and check up on him, and see what was going on in his life. He truly is a disgusting person. Always talking about masturbation, or putting, "Mom quit sexting me!" for his status update. (My mom would be utterly horrified by this.) But it was nice to see that he was doing ok, if nothing else.
So at Thanksgiving I casually asked him about something, which basically indicated that I have seen his FB page. He seemed totally fine about it, no problem. We talked about the thing I had asked him about. I was actually really excited that he was so cool about it. I thought, now he knows that I have read that, so maybe we can have a more honest relationship; even if I don't like the person he has become.
The next day I went to check his FB page again. Private.
I seriously have hurt feelings about this. I guess he really doesn't want me to be a part of his life at all.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The Annual Thanksgiving Throwdown
Every year at Thanksgiving, my family gets into a huge fight. It is tradition.
There was the year that my sister and I were both 8 months pregnant, and we got into an argument about the best methods for giving birth. The hormones were running rampant. There was a serious case of what I like to call, "Little Sister Syndrome" that came into play. I'm not sure if our relationship has totally recovered.
There was the year that two of my sisters disagreed on drawing names for Christmas gifts. One sister wanted to involve step-siblings, the other didn't. It got ugly. It is still a sensitive topic.
There was the year that I got mad at my sister for letting her kids trash the family room right after I had cleaned it up. She got all in my face so I ran and locked myself in the bathroom and cried. This one is just funny now.
The best year of all was the time that my grandparents were involved. My sister had taken her kids over to visit them earlier that week. Apparently while they were there, my niece tried to flush a can down their toilet. My grandpa brought it up as soon as the appetizers came out. He wouldn't let it go. My mom tried to get him to back off. (He was hard of hearing, but suddenly had a much more profound hearing loss at these kinds of moments.) He got so mad that no one would take him seriously, that he grabbed Grandma by the arm and said, "Let's go home!" Grandma (always the lady) kept a polite smile on her face as steadied her little 90 year-old frame and planted her feet firmly where they were. Grandma wasn't going to leave, damn it! I will never forget the look of refined, determination on her face; that is the only way I can describe it.
My brother-in-law ended up calling a plumber who met him at my grandparents house during the dinner.
This year we are having Thanksgiving at my Mom's house. She will be leaving to go on a mission, so will miss the next two years.
My oldest brother won't be coming because he and his wife prefer her family. I don't think this is a secret.
My next oldest sister will agree to come, but will call an hour before to say that she has a migraine and won't be able to make it. (I'll bet ya $20!!!)
The next sister won't come because she moved back East specifically to avoid these types of situations
My next sister will be there. She and I will look at the ads and make a detailed shopping plan for black Friday.
My other brother will either: Not come at all because he will be snowboarding that day. Or: Show up all hungover, possibly with a girl who hasn't bathed in quite some time.
And then there will be me. I'll be there. I always am.
There was the year that my sister and I were both 8 months pregnant, and we got into an argument about the best methods for giving birth. The hormones were running rampant. There was a serious case of what I like to call, "Little Sister Syndrome" that came into play. I'm not sure if our relationship has totally recovered.
There was the year that two of my sisters disagreed on drawing names for Christmas gifts. One sister wanted to involve step-siblings, the other didn't. It got ugly. It is still a sensitive topic.
There was the year that I got mad at my sister for letting her kids trash the family room right after I had cleaned it up. She got all in my face so I ran and locked myself in the bathroom and cried. This one is just funny now.
The best year of all was the time that my grandparents were involved. My sister had taken her kids over to visit them earlier that week. Apparently while they were there, my niece tried to flush a can down their toilet. My grandpa brought it up as soon as the appetizers came out. He wouldn't let it go. My mom tried to get him to back off. (He was hard of hearing, but suddenly had a much more profound hearing loss at these kinds of moments.) He got so mad that no one would take him seriously, that he grabbed Grandma by the arm and said, "Let's go home!" Grandma (always the lady) kept a polite smile on her face as steadied her little 90 year-old frame and planted her feet firmly where they were. Grandma wasn't going to leave, damn it! I will never forget the look of refined, determination on her face; that is the only way I can describe it.
My brother-in-law ended up calling a plumber who met him at my grandparents house during the dinner.
This year we are having Thanksgiving at my Mom's house. She will be leaving to go on a mission, so will miss the next two years.
My oldest brother won't be coming because he and his wife prefer her family. I don't think this is a secret.
My next oldest sister will agree to come, but will call an hour before to say that she has a migraine and won't be able to make it. (I'll bet ya $20!!!)
The next sister won't come because she moved back East specifically to avoid these types of situations
My next sister will be there. She and I will look at the ads and make a detailed shopping plan for black Friday.
My other brother will either: Not come at all because he will be snowboarding that day. Or: Show up all hungover, possibly with a girl who hasn't bathed in quite some time.
And then there will be me. I'll be there. I always am.
A little about me
I am a stay at home mom to 3 kids, ages four, two, and 4 months. I love my husband and my kids so much- they mean everything to me. It is a real challenge to juggle all of the demands of a family of young children (espeically while on very little sleep) but I find real fulfillment in my role as a wife and mother. I may not be paid in money, but my compensation is priceless.
I am a Mormon and I live in Utah.
I am the youngest of 6 children. My parents were divorced when I was 5. My parents both remarried, but my mother was widowed 3 years ago. I have half-siblings, step-siblings, and ex-step-siblings. My family of origin is incredibly disfunctional. I think they are all a little bit crazy except for me. ;)
I am college educated, but would love to earn a graduate degree sometime in the distant future. Some days I want to have so many babies, and other days I think I should shut my uterus down for business.
I hate mopping. I love shoes.
That's me.
I am a Mormon and I live in Utah.
I am the youngest of 6 children. My parents were divorced when I was 5. My parents both remarried, but my mother was widowed 3 years ago. I have half-siblings, step-siblings, and ex-step-siblings. My family of origin is incredibly disfunctional. I think they are all a little bit crazy except for me. ;)
I am college educated, but would love to earn a graduate degree sometime in the distant future. Some days I want to have so many babies, and other days I think I should shut my uterus down for business.
I hate mopping. I love shoes.
That's me.
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