Happy New Year!

Hey Anyone who is reading this!


Happy New Year, Merry Christmas, and all of the other good stuff I could wish you! I just figured I'd catch up on the past couple of weeks since I last posted.


My middle son is recovering very nicely after his back surgery, thanks for all of the prayers and well-wishes. He's my hero...he's been through so much this year, yet still maintains a positive outlook. What a kid!

Christmas Eve was spent with my parents at their Christmas Eve party. I don't understand why my mother hosts these things when all they do is stress her out. I've gotta tell you, her parties, from start to finish, usually are an enormous trigger for bringing up issues from my past. They always involve the cousin who sexually abused me, and they always involve drinking.

This year's party wasn't too much different, except I felt myself handling things better than I would have last year. I felt it begin the moment I received her invitation. She always sends it in her Christmas card to us. Here we go on the pity pot...why do I always get the crappy cards that she gets free from the Veteran's Association that look like they are about thirty years old? Other relatives speak of her beautiful Christmas Cards, but she saves the nasty ones for me. For years I thought she was just being thrifty and sent out the freebie cards to everyone. It even made me sad, thinking maybe she couldn't afford the nice cards. But visits with other relatives opened my eyes to what is going on. She is buying the nice cards for them and sending me the free ones that don't look so great. I tried not to let it bother me, but my self worth seems to be wrapped up in material things sometimes. Shouldn't it be enough, after all, that she remembered to send me one?

Anyway, the party went well. She argued about how much food was going to be wasted if people didn't eat. She was right...about fifteen pounds of cookies got chucked because there were too many. About three quarters of the way through the party, she had an allergic reaction to either the feta cheese or the balsamic vinaigrette on the pear salad. She refused to go to the emergency room, refused Benadryl, so I refused to pay any attention to the goings on. I figured if she fell to the ground, I'd call 911, but I wasn't going to stand there and watch her be a martyr and then insult the medical profession (yet again) that was trying to help her. And you know what? She didn't die, she was fine. Complained how my father did nothing to help her though.

Christmas afternoon, we went to my in-laws to visit, and that was good. My only trigger over there had to do with another childhood issue. My MIL bought my daughter used sheets at the thrift store where she works for her birthday, which was also this month. I can deal with used stuff, just not for birthdays or holidays.

It was triggering me because I never got new clothes when I was young. Everything was a hand me down. Thank God my very generous neighbor had taste that was in line with mine. My mom always shopped at the Nearly New store for me, but not for my sister. My sister refused to wear anything that wasn't new. Once, a girl at school said that I looked like I crawled out of the Salvation Army bin. I was mortified. I hated everything my mother brought home from that store after that. I remember the first Christmas I actually got a shirt that I had asked for. I was in eighth grade. It was a shiny white material and had a skinny light blue tie (it was the eighties, people). I wore that shirt at least twice a week until it didn't fit me anymore. Not only because I loved the shirt, but because I was taking it as a confirmation that I was loved by my mother. That she listened to me, and wanted me to be happy. And I wore it to reflect back the love that I was feeling, thanking her for finally proving how much she loved me. I think I'll always remember that shirt, if I live to be 100 years old.

So, this brings me to a question...how do you maintain a relationship with a parent that wants to have a relationship with you, but also wants to emotionally beat the crap out of you? I try to let this stuff go, because of times in my life like when she bought me the shirt, or the Barbie Perfume Maker, or the birthday card with the bubble bath inside for my sixth or seventh birthday (again with the material goods). There seems to be such an extreme in my thought pattern...she bought me a real birthday card...she loves me! She bought me a shirt in a size 22W...she loves me not! Does anyone else have this going on in their lives? The instability of not knowing whether you are truly loved? I had this a lot with my husband too before recovery. He didn't look at that supermodel...he loves me! He looked at porn while I was at work...he loves me not! This way of thinking used to define my relationship with God as well.

For now, I guess I have to treat it like I do with my husband, with boundaries and consequences. I just wish it didn't hurt so much.

On a very *light* note, I met our dear friend Lillian and her husband! What a great time my husband and I had. I must say, I had a strong suspicion it was her when I first saw her because she looked like I had envisioned, except curlier hair. There is a woman who works in our town that sounds a lot like Lillian, and every time I hear this woman speak, I think of Lil. The conversation was easy, the mood was light, the dessert was high in calories...it was awesome! And the company was fantastic!!! The time really flew by, though. Hope we can do it again very soon. And I hope they had a safe trip back to the Island and then back to Michigan.

So, for now, I want to leave you with a video that I love, by a band that I also love...peace and joy to all of us in 2008...