I was supposed to arrive in Appleton around 9-9:30 pm. I got there at 2:30 am. Ugh. The irony of it all was the sign I saw during my last blog entry. It said, “United. #1 in on-time arrivals.” Boy, I’d hate to see what the other airlines are like!!
I say this in jest, because I know that the Christmas season is particularly difficult for the travel industry. They get swamped with people all trying to get where they need to go, and yet the weather can be the worst at this time of year. It’s a hard thing. My utmost respect goes to the employees who bundle up and brave the freezing temperatures to get us travelers to our destinations safe and (somewhat) orderly. My guitar did end up in Green Bay. (The sturdy plastic tupperware containers I had securely tucked into the case were shattered, and the contents were scattered all throughout my case. I can tell that my instrument was not handled gently, which I am not happy about. It’s pretty obvious that it’s a guitar, and anyone with a brain knows that instruments need to be handled more gently than your average piece of luggage. Actually, it was treated so roughly that my tuner broke. So, I’ve been tuning my guitar to the piano. Thank goodness for learning middle C!)
But I got home safely, and I’ve been hanging out with my folks for two days now. I’m very mer due to time change and jet lag and traveling for twenty one hours straight, and the kids are sick, and Mom’s run down right now too... so we’ve just been hanging out. Talking, finishing up a little shopping, I’ve been cooking... watching movies... I was looking forward to having part of the day alone at home with Mom, but it hasn’t happened yet. It probably will when we go down to Indiana to work on the house, since the kids’ll be off visiting friends. Anyway, we’ve had some good talks already. I’ve been able to share some of the revelations and changes in my life, and Mom has resonated with alot of them. It’s cool. I’m really going to start praying for some good, solid, safe people to enter my family’s life, especially Mom’s. She needs at least one good female friend to help encourage her and bolster her up... I don’t think she’s ever had that. I’m trying to be a safe person for her, and also for the kids. We’ll see. So far, I’m just trying to CHILL OUT and not try to “fix” or “run” the family while I’m here. I want to be safe, not judgmental and condemning or critical. It’s kinda hard.
I’m really glad to be home.It’s really, really weird to not have anything I have to do... I almost don’t know what to do with myself. But I know I can find plenty to occupy myself... I think. There are a few books I want to read, a couple movies I want to see, a couple places I want to visit, a couple rooms of the house I want to clean... I did the upstairs bathroom this morning.
Being in a different environment has shown me that I’ve really learned alot at home. I’ve formed good habits that are carrying over to this “new” place. It’s cool to see that what you do over and over again (even when you really, really don’t feel like sweeping the floor after a meal, or wiping off the counters) really does follow you places. And, those little habits of cleanliness I’ve picked up really do help to keep the cleaning job down in the long run.
There hasn’t been much in the way of emotions... just a vague uneasiness, I suppose. There’s alot of tension between the kids constantly- alot of bickering and nitpicking. And, you know me... I hate tension! So I’m also fighting the urge to jump in and try to constantly smooth things out. It’s alot better than it used to be, that’s for sure. But I must remember that “my response is my responsibility”, and let them learn the same. Doesn’t mean I can’t give my input, or some guidance... but I am not in charge of making everyone feel good all the time so that I, in turn, can feel good.
I shared with mom my realizations about C. She said it was really interesting, because the emotions I’ve had to process through are the same as she had to deal with from the relationship with K’s dad, a highly abusive situation. (My first abuse. Yaaaay. :-/ I was between 2 and 3, and I remember it. Needless to say, he is not my favorite person.) Interestingly enough, he’s gotten back in contact with Mom and K recently, and he’s going to send K a christmas gift. I am neither enthused nor impressed. This situation has brought to my attention, however, that I have never forgiven him, or even dealt with that situation. As a matter of fact, I think I hate him as much or more than my ex-stepdad. He disgusts me. I despise him. Mom believes that he was jealous of me, because she put me absolutely first in her life, so he tried to get revenge. Against a 2 year old? Please. Grow up. Get some cajones, dude.
In my mind, he’s still the same guy that filled a bathtub with cold water and ice cubes, then tossed me in with all my clothes, refusing to let me out. My lips were blue by the time Mom came home and pulled me out. (I was wearing my hot pink tank top with the big purple polka-dots that day...) This is the same jerk that put me into a hot oven and burned my back. This is the same ******* that tried to force me to drink urine, who stuffed wadded-up socks into my mouth. Father of my sister? I think not. Sub-human piece of trash? A candidate. Possibly even the ambassador.
And, quite suddenly, I am no longer tired. Adrenaline is squirting through my veins. My muscles are tensed, and my jaw is clenched. My back is rigid and my breathing is shallow. A slow tide of anger rises and rushes through me, and I am, as they say, pissed. I was three.
This is me at that time.
Okay, so I was four in this picture, but you get the point. I have absolutely no patience for abusers of any persuasion. I don’t care what your excuse is. You do not do that to people. Especially to children.
Well, this is kind of a bad time to hit the hay, but I’m trying to acclimatize my self to WI time-wise, so I need to... Boy, I hope I sleep okay tonight.
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