Posts Tagged conflict
(un)therapy
Tonight’s Dr Jerry session turned into a Bobby-Sarah brawl. It started with a discussion of my goals (I don’t have any), which led to a discussion of communication, which eventually led to an all-out brawl. And then, of course, our time was up. Dr Jerry instructed us to “leave it there” and we’ll continue talking next week. I replied that there’s no way Bobby would leave it there… he just can’t let go of crap. Dr Jerry did some psychobabble and sent us home.
So now, Bobby’s not speaking to me. And we weren’t even fighting BEFORE the session. Somehow, I feel that this isn’t quite what therapy is supposed to do for your marriage?
Daddy Rant
I have an appt with Dr Jerry today at 5pm for first time since mid-December, and I’m dreading it. I’ve NEVER dreaded meeting with Dr Jerry… ever. But I am today. I’ve been kinda mentally checked out for a while, and I know that he’s going to make me think and I don’t want to. But we can’t just sit there and stare at each other, so I’m gonna have to say something.
So what should I talk about?
Maybe I should talk about Daddy. He’s been a pure 100% assmunch since Sue moved to Charleston… I think maybe he doesn’t want her to move away, so he’s being really mean? Kinda the adult version of a little boy punching the girl he likes. He helped me move her in, but handed out attitude the entire time… got pissy when she listed me as her emergency contact because HE’S her parent. Oh, I’m sorry, I must have just IMAGINED the part where I signed for her student loans because he wouldn’t. He gave her $400 before she moved, and now considers himself absolved of all monetary responsibility for the next 4 years. $100 per year to support your kid… pretty decent, huh? Hmph. Whatever. Mama would kick his ass and chew his ears off if she were here.
And this past weekend, we brought her home for the first time. She doesn’t have a car down there this semester, so we’re sharing the pickup/dropoff responsibilities. Jen & Tom made the trip down and back on Friday to pick her up, and then I did the drop off on Monday. 3.5 hrs one way, for a grand total of 7 hrs in the car. Whew. Daddy hasn’t even mentioned the possibility of him taking a turn. Surprise.
We (Jen, Tom, Sue, Mag, Daddy, and I) had lunch together on Monday before we left, and he showed up 15 minutes late. Muttered about our choice of restaurant. Asked why the waitress hadn’t brought HIS chips (they only bring one basket per table) and complained until we asked the poor server if she could please bring a basket just for him. When our food came, he heaved a big sigh and said “I don’t have a fork.” And then just sat there looking at us. Jennifer said “Sorry, Daddy, looks like Maggie threw it in the floor… you’ll have to ask for another one.” He then rolls his eyes and heaves another long-suffering sigh and just sits there. So Tom, in order to curb the drama, gets up and asks for another fork for Daddy because apparently he’s helpless? Argh.
It finally seemed that he was just going to eat his lunch, when Sue asked when he and Aunt Gin (his sister visiting from CA) were planning to come to Charleston. Keep in mind that Charleston is only about 45 min from Bowman, where Aunt Gin will be staying, and Sue’s been dealing with her bouts of homesickness by scheduling and looking forward to home weekends and family visits. So she’s pretty freakin’ excited about Aunt Gin & Daddy visiting her. Then Daddy nonchalantly says “I’ve decided not to come to Charleston.” Silence descends on the table.
Sue: Um. Why? Why aren’t you coming?
Daddy: Gin’s coming to visit me in Townville, so there’s really no point in us coming to Charleston.
Sue: Weeeell, I’m in Charleston and I would like to see ya’ll. I’ve been really looking forward to your visit.
Daddy: Susanna, it’s just not gonna work out.
Sue: But I don’t understand why.
Daddy: Because Bobby’s grandpa is in the hospital.
[Jen and I exchange looks... Um, WHAT?! What does Bobby's grandfather have to do with Daddy? They barely know each other.]
Sue: Daddy, I don’t understand what Bobby’s grandpa has to do with you visiting me in Charleston.
Daddy: [Voice raised, tone mean as hell, pulls the "Authority Figure" card that we're all-too-familiar with] Susanna, don’t question me!
Sue: [Head down, mutters into her salad] Whatever.
Daddy: What was that, Susanna? What did you say?
Jennifer and I try to intervene and smooth it over… “Sue, just email Aunt Gin directly and ask her to come down by herself. I’ll bet she would. She loves you, and she would love to see you. And ya’ll would have so much fun. Yeah, it would be SO much fun! Blahblahblahblah….”
Daddy: Susanna, do you have something to say to me?
And then we all sit in silence and Sue cries. Yeah, good times. Asshole.
But really, why even talk about it? Doesn’t accomplish anything. Maybe I’ll just print this post out and give it to Dr Jerry and save my breath.
Oh, and Daddy has asked Jennifer to book another trip to Oklahoma during the next month. Wonder if this will be the one where he brings back a new wife? It’s coming… I could be completely mistaken, but I think my father will be remarried by this time next year. Hmph. Maybe I should let her read this post too. Of course, they’ll probably already be married by the time I meet her. Poor sucker.
Childless & childish, that’s me
So the fury has (mostly) passed. Thank you all for your comments… you’re right, my name is my name and I need to proceed as previously planned despite the name-stealing twit. I’m pretty much to the place where I’ll be able to control my mouth when I talk to Grandma about it, as opposed to the uncontrollable rant that was spewing earlier.
And thank ya’ll too for not telling me that I’m being stupid and childish… I know I don’t even have a daughter yet, but there’s just an unspoken honor system with family names that should be acknowledged. My name is Sarah Frances, both my maternal and paternal grandmothers’ names are Frances, and I’ve always thought I would name my first little girl Frances… it’s an old-fashioned classic with family roots in both my mom & dad’s sides of the family. I’m taking comfort in the fact that she’s not calling the baby Frances… at least I don’t think she is.
I still hate her though. Just saying.
And thank you all for your comments about Sue’s room & the moving process. She’s doing well — registered for classes & met her adviser today, and is firmly convinced thus far that CofC is going to be a much better fit for her than Clemson. I hope that continues to be the case. She’s been very impressed with the personalized attention that she’s received for the last two days from the History dept and her advisor, and the class sizes are 20-25 people, as opposed to Clemson’s 125-member classes. The smaller school environment is going to be a welcome change for her — I think that going into Clemson, she didn’t think she needed personalized attention, but Mama’s rediagnosis changed her needs and Clemson couldn’t adjust accordingly.
She’s only met one roomie so far — the other two are arriving sometime this weekend before classes begin on Monday. Keeping my fingers crossed that there’s no weird roommate drama. She’s called me about 14 times today, and we have a webcam appt this evening so she can talk to Maggie. Ahhh, technology… what would we do without it?
Thank ya’ll again. It’s so… well, gratifying, I guess, to read your words and know that my bloggy peeps are with me on the offensiveness of the name-stealing issue, regardless of my current childless state. Childless & childish…. has a ring, no? Hmph.
so wrong
I’m really, really trying not to be a nasty bitch right now. It’s hard — really, effing hard. The pregnant cousin named her baby after my grandmother… which also happens to be MY NAME. What the fucking hell. The family’s not that big — how could she take my name?!? I am going to have a daughter one day, and I wanted to use my OWN NAME for MY BABY. That fucking bitch. I feel like screaming, my hands are shaking I’m so angry. I so want to write an email blasting her, but I know that I shouldn’t. It would hurt people that I don’t want to hurt — my aunt, my uncle, my grandmother even though she told that stupid twit NOT to use her/my name. It’s not worth it, it’s not worth it, it’s not worth it. Right?
I hate her. She kept her pregnancy, she never appreciated it, she did nothing but bitch the entire time, she had a perfect baby girl, and she TOOK MY FUCKING NAME. I hate her. And now I’m crying.
Grrrrr
Was on Facebook this afternoon, and on the News Feed tab, noticed that one of my FB friends had posted an ultrasound pic (clarification – this guy and I were “friendly” in college, but I wouldn’t have considered us “friends”). So of course I click on it because it’s an ultrasound picture and I have a compulsion. And here’s the caption:
So my wife seems to have acquired this parasite. It will continue to bother her for another 7.5 months at which point in time it will be be expelled from her body. The parasite will become self sustaining but continue to suck the life out of us for the next 18-22 years. Many seem to find this parasite quite adorable and seem to think it will bring us great pride and joy.
Annnnnnd then I cried. Big, gushing, angry tears. And then I un-friended him, but not before sending him a private message:
Hi ****,
First I want to say a huge congratulations on your wife’s pregnancy. I saw from the ultrasound photo that she’s a patient of ***, and they’re WONDERFUL… I’ve heard nothing but great things about their obgyn practice.Now on to the second thought. I debated about even saying anything because I’m sure that my personal experiences have made me somewhat more sensitive than most. But I have to say it for myself and so many others out there. Your paragraph about your unborn child, although clearly meant to be humorous, is extremely insensitive. I have had two miscarriages in the last six months, and I’ve been overwhelmed with how many women have suffered similar devastating losses – it’s amazing (and horrible) how many of us are in “the club,” and you have no idea until you have the misfortune of becoming an unwilling member.
I hope that your wife has a textbook-pregnancy, uneventful and healthy. But please remember when publicly referring to your unborn child as a “parasite” and offering witty comments about how it will “suck the life” out of you, that others are praying and believing for that one day when maybe we’ll have such an opportunity.
I wish you, your wife, and your precious baby only the best.
Sarah
And then I felt better. The End.
Turkey Week Kickoff
A friend recently wrote “I so wish that I could just turn my brain off sometimes.” Can I get a big AMEN. Wouldn’t it be nice to just say “ok, I need a break… I think I’m just gonna park this thinkbus and go do something else.” And truthfully, at times I’ve been able to do that. I’ve been able to distract myself with projects or new hobbies or Maggie (always a great diversion). But it never lasts and then I end up right back in the Barrel-O-Thoughts.
Jennifer and I had a wonderful interaction today. You know when there’s been something lurking below the surface (or not below the surface, in our case) and it’s a nagging relational hangnail that just won’t go away? Jennifer and I have been there for a while now, and today, we faced it. We’re sisters – it’s so easy to just assume that it’ll all work out because, yep, it probably will. But it feels so much better to just have it all gutted and scrubbed clean… we talked (yelled), we cried, we hugged, we said loveyouloveyouloveyou at the end of the evening. And I do love her so. My sisters – both of them – are priceless.
Thanksgiving dinner is looming… I’ve heard other people talking about it, but haven’t realized just how close it is until this afternoon. Jennifer, Sue and I are doing dinner completely solo this year for the first time. The Great Family Invasion of 2008 has been diverted for another year, so our guest list is holding at about 10 people. Sue and I made a tentative menu this morning based mainly on the traditional “staple” dishes. We’re already starting to veer away from the tried-&-true though… Mama’s not here, we’re not Mama, and there’s no point in pretending. As I was clicking through recipes online this afternoon, the enormity of Mama’s leaving hit me yet again. This is it. This is all there is. This is our second Thanksgiving without her and the first we’ve actually celebrated (last year was a seafood dinner overlooking the Pacific Ocean). And this is what it’s going to be from now on. “Making the best of it” kind of takes on a whole new meaning when you’re facing the holidays sporting a gaping emotional hole placed neatly in the center of your familial unit.
But back to a less depressing matter… the Thanksgiving menu. See? This is me focusing elsewhere.
- Turkey, of course – to roast or to fry? I’ve heard great things about fried turkey… that it’s moister, juicier, just better. Bobby and I have a huge pot that we use for low-country boil that would work perfectly. And I found this recipe that looks tasty and not too difficult. So maybe we’ll try it?
- Dressing – traditional or something new? I found a recipe for Cornbread & Oyster Dressing, which sounds quite tasty to me. My dad had some long, long ago and has talked about it since… I’m pretty sure he would be in favor of throwing a few oysters in there.
- Cranberry Sauce
- Mashed Potatoes
- Gravy
- Sweet Potato Souffle
- Green Bean Casserole
- Roasted Asparagus or Spinach Greens
- Steamed Cabbage
- Pickled Corn – my grandmother is the only person in the world that makes it (I think) and we only have one jar. One tablespoon for each person.
- Rolls
- Pasta Salad
- Ambrosia
- Veggies & Dip
- Pumpkin Pie/Ice Cream
- Apple Strudel
I’ve always been very into fancy napkin-folding and such, but I haven’t quite decided on the centerpiece/napkin rings/etc for this year. I had all these lofty plans of making a beautiful holiday tablecloth and napkins – even bought the pattern on sale a few months ago. But my sewing flame burned out prematurely, so I’m working with what I already have. We shall see… Is anyone else out there into the whole formal china, crystal, fancy-schmancy napkin-folding thing for Thanksgiving dinner?
