Thursday, February 16, 2006

Sugar and Spice

...and everything nice. That's what little girls are made of, right?

My mom didn't like that recipe. My family isn't in to sweet food, we're more of a spicy, salty kinda people. And so, that's me. A little more spice than sugar. I won't even get into the everything nice. I always knew this was the case with me, but I never knew it was her plan all along.

Last month, the night before we were to find out the sex of our own baby, mom asked me whether I thought it was a boy or a girl. Deep down, I always had a feeling it was going to be a boy, but I almost felt guilty because everyone else wanted a girl so bad. I told her, jokingly, that I was nervous either way. "A girl would be spoiled rotten, and nobody would want my boy." To this she replied, "Oh no. I love boys. And you have to worry more about spoiling them, than girls. At least, I did. I always raised my girls tough, but I wanted to just squeeze and love on my boys." And those were words that I had no response to. I desperately tried not to make my "wtf" face. Concerned that I might start one of our famous, war-like fights, I let the issue drop.

When I told Josh about the conversation, he did his usual "What?!" and shook his head.

When you're a part of a family, its hard to see them from outside of that group. It's probably been pretty obvious to everyone except me that my sister and I are very different from our brothers. Sam and I really are what mom intended, tough. She is more so in a passive way. My mom would tell you that I've been debating since I learned how to talk.

I'm not the annoying type that debates stupid things like the pronunciation of "tomato" or technicalities and things like that. I just have a very difficult time keeping my mouth shut when I believe wrong has been done, whether I think it will change anything or not. I don't debate things for the sake of hearing myself talk, I only speak up when I feel things on my heart. That's when the urge is completely irresistible.

Like that time Jessica (a teenage foster child my family had taken in) started one final fight with my Mom. She was always disrespectful, and it irritated me the way Mike would never stick up for mom. For some reason, on this day, I decided I wasn't going to let it go any further. I said to her "You're not going to talk to my mother like that." And believe me, all hell broke loose. We had words for a while, she came at me with a knife, in the end the cops came and took her away. (To make a very long story short.) That whole thing could have been avoided if I'd kept my mouth shut, but I just couldn't do it anymore. In the end, Jess cleaned up, got her child back, and now she's a nurses' assistant and has her own apartment in Rehoboth. I'm not taking credit for that, I'm simply saying that maybe things just have to be said sometimes.

I'm not the kind of person who can ignore the elephant in the room either, if you know what I mean. I think its better to hit issues head on. Talk about it, fight about it, but for God's sake get it off your chest. Josh and I have had our knock down, drag out fights but there's not a bitter root between us. He is comfortable coming to me with problems and I'm the same way with him. It's not fun, but its better than waking up one day and not even knowing the person sleeping next to you. I honestly don't see any personality flaws in him. He is who he is, and I wouldn't want him any other way. I think that's the benefit of being honest.

Just so it's clear, I am in NO way saying I'm perfect. Not for a second. We all have our "do - over" moments when you'd like to suck the awful words that came out of your mouth right back in. I have a ton, because I can honestly tell you I don't think before I speak. Ever. I open my mouth and stuff comes out and it is whatever it is. (I'm a little better at blogging, since I can proof read, but not much.) To be honest, with the spit-fire attitude I have, I should really write whatever I'm thinking down, read it every day for about a week and if I still feel that way, then I can say it. But don't get your hopes up, that's not going to happen.

In ways, I'm glad mom raised me "tough". I'm not sure I would have survived my adolescence any other way. I think I could use a little more empathy and sympathy once in a while, but I'm working on it. I think I have it when it really counts, but it never hurts to have enough to pass around.

As far as Riley goes, I really feel bad that he has to be the first kid. Josh and I are both first born and we both agree that the oldest takes a lot crap on account of the parents being inexperienced. Poor kid, but somebody had to do it. I'm not sure what kind of parents we'll be yet. We know what we definitely DON'T want to do, but we'll probably overcompensate for it and end up doing something equally as traumatic. Either way everybody ends up in therapy, right?

Just kidding. I don't even know what little boys are made of. Something like, dirt and blood and puppy dog tails. Is it tattoos, piercings, and bad taste in music? Maybe a little mischief, long hair, and obnoxious friends?

The good and the bad news is what your parents did or didn't do to you only takes you so far. At some point, you have to start blaming yourself. (The good part of that being, your kids can't blame you forever either.) There was a twenty-something, thousand pound man on t.v. the other day with his mother. Everyone, including the son, blamed the mother for his obesity. Yes, its true that she taught him bad eating habits and fed his depression with even more food. But the man was twenty something. In my opinion, he's definitely old enough (and has been for a while) to make his own decisions. If he doesn't like what mom keeps in the house, ffs get a job and buy your own food. Take a walk, ride a bike, buy some illegal ephedra but DON'T bring your mother on national television and blame her for all of your problems.

If that really healed people, I'd have drug my father's drunk ass on one of those shows a long time ago. But it doesn't really solve anything. I don't believe in therapy either. If I get to the point where I feel like I'm so screwed up that I need to talk to a therapist, I remind myself that I'd only be complaining to him, and that he couldn't do anything for me that I wouldn't eventually figure out for myself. I really believe its just part of life, and you are stronger for the crap you have to endure.

Besides...

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Have you hugged your dysfunctional family today? Image hosting by Photobucket

6 comments:

Josh said...

I think you're an "essayist" blogger. :-]

Sometimes I don't understand what the family is/was thinking. Does everyone think their own family is weird? Or do the families that I think are cool know they are?

Oh, and does your mom know you have a blog? You may get drafted for that war after all...

Super Uncool said...

She does know, but she'll never read it. I'd put money on that fact.

It's ok to be an Essayist if you're blogging. People don't have to read my blog, I do it for me. It's not really ok to be an Essayist if you're in a forums. It just...silly. :-]

Yeah, like I said, everybody is screwed up in some way by their family, but it's also a big part of what makes us individual. So, it's all how you look at it I guess.

Anonymous said...

Everybody wishes their family was something different than they are. That's why we all think our own families are dysfunctional.

Of course, we tend to forget that our families include us! So, if I was never part of my family, would it have turned out the same???

Anonymous said...

So yeah...you're missing the important point. How do you pronounce "tomato"?

Josh said...

You pronounce 'tour' weirdly, but I like it.

Super Uncool said...

I say it like toe-may-toe but some ppl say toe-mah-toe. Hehe.