Therapy Sessions

When I write, it is for therapeutic purposes, though it may be interesting, funny, or offending - the main reason behind me picking up a pen plunking away at my key board is to get whatever's bothering me out.  I need to have an outlet, and this is my chosen outlet.

So, first thing's first: If you don't like it, why do you bother to read it?

Second - With the exception of Mr. Delusional and my children, I don't ever name names.  Period.

I'm going to write about something that's been bugging me a lot lately.  No names, No descriptors as to who each individual may be.  But I need to get this off of my chest.

Everyone has a few branches on their family tree that they'd like to prune....not that there's anything wrong with those people, perhaps it's just a clash of personalities.  Whatever it is, I'm sure you can relate.

I have a family member who likes to make "mountains out of molehills" -- In an effort to save my sanity, I have very limited contact with her - I simply don't have the time and patience to constantly sooth her trivial needs.

I have a family member who I would consider to be on the extreme end of the religious spectrum.  I also limit my time with her - saves arguments from happening.

I have another family member who has had a sketchy past, I'll not go into details, but let's just say that she burned the bridge that connected her to me (or was it me who struck that match?).  So be it.

However, now this family member is at a point in her life where there is a lot of good coming her way. I think that's great.  Other family members are happy for her.  I think that's great too.

So what's the problem??  For the life of me, I cannot be happy for her.  I just feel as if there's this dark, looming presence on the horizon....I'm waiting for that other shoe to drop.

My head, my schooling, and some family members tell me that I need to give her another chance....but in my heart, I just can't.  And I can't even explain it more than that.  I just can't.

So why is this a big deal?  Because now, when I visit our mutual family, I have to put on a facade of caring....so I no longer visit.  I'm not comfortable listening to them talk and rave about how wonderful everything is - inside I'm screaming "Did you all forget what she's done?"  You see, I have this fatal personality flaw - it's called vengeance.  I rarely forgive, and I never, never, ever forget. 

I simply can't bring myself to do it.  They can be happy for her for me.  I hope and pray that the changes in her life stay this time, but I still want nothing to do with her.  I'm sorry that that hurts you, but I absolutely refuse to apologize for the way that I feel.

They called me stubborn, so be it, I am.  I call it protecting my family, without her around I know that they are safe.

:(

The Pasta War

There's a certain someone in my family who doesn't like it when I write blog posts about him - so let's just call him...uh...Mr. Delusional (and that's oh so fitting for this post)

Mr. Delusional is a little picky with things.  For example - he doesn't like left-overs.  At first, I thought that he was just being a big whiny baby - but after spending some time with Mr. Delusional's mother, I realized it's because she'll make a giant batch of food and then the family will eat from that food until it's gone.  Yeah.  So, growing up like that, I can see where Mr. Delusional's loathing for leftovers comes from.  So now, I either make smaller meals without planning for left overs - or make a large meal and freeze the left overs for eating at another time (ps - Do NOT make Mr. Delusional aware of this time and sanity saving trick of mine!!)

I think that the meal-of-the-week thing is the same reason why my husband doesn't like certain pastas.  If he sees a macaroni shaped noodle - he will not eat it.  But this is where our argument comes to a head...

You see - Mr. Delusional thinks that each pasta shape is made from a different recipe -- as if the ingredients somehow affect the shape of it. One day, I'd planned on making cannelloni -- but realized I didn't have any cannelloni noodles - so I made large stuffed shells instead.  He thinks it tastes different.  He thinks that spaghetti has a different flavour than linguini.

No amount of evidence has convinced him yet.

Yesterday - I wasn't feeling well, so made a simple supper...A nice baked talapia with some cellentani noodles tossed with a garlic butter.  But -- he didn't like the "taste" of those noodles.  I guarantee you that if I had made it with a vermicelli or linguini, he'd have chowed it down.

I've even showed him this video and he still doesn't get it. Why are men so stubborn??

Major Vent/Rant

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.  Everything is making me grumpy and I don't even know why, so...some of the thoughts that cross my mind today will be vented out here...please tell me I'm not alone in my anger issues:

• Dear Jean Manufacturers everywhere, can we please stop with the low-rise crap?  I'd like to be able to sit down without half of my back end showing.  Thanks.
• Why won't my daycare children eat any more?  I made a giant pot of delicious chicken vegetable soup and they're all asking for Mr. Noodles.  Hello???  Yummy and healthy in exchange for salt covered Styrofoam??
• Ever since Adam's been sick, when I ask him to clean up he puts on this painful face and says "My tummy hurts, I can't clean up."  It's not funny any more, honey....just clean up the damn lego!
• People asking stupid questions.  I can't handle it.  Things like "what should I advertise about my daycare?" Seriously??  You've been in business for how many years and you don't know what to put in a stinkin' advertisement??  You suck!
• Dear Dust.  DIE.  I hate you.  I hate your sneak attack...I think my home is clean and lovely and I turn around and there you are just waiting to show people that I'm actually a lazy old hag.  Thanks for nothin'!
• who the hell invented Transformers??  Must have been a childless person, as someone with a child and half a brain can imagine the pain caused by stepping on Bumble Bee's Tranny/Gun.
• We have (literally - not pulling any jokes/sarcasm here) 5 feet of snow on my yard.  I figure that by the time I"ll see any grass it'll be mid-August.  Yippe-fricken-ki-yay.

This is all the complaining that I have to do right now.  The children are sleeping (Thank GOD) and I'm going to make myself a cup of tea and perhaps meditate....I need to be nice again (though, I reserve the right to add to this list as I see fit today)....