A New Behavior PART 1

I am trying new things and they are HARD & scary, but true.

LOOOOOONNG story short (or - I just went back and re-read my whole post and actually maybe "long story LONG"):

Bub was due to get his driving permit.

He had done all his part to be ready.

I needed to do my part.

I forgot to sign him up and pay for the behind-the-wheel classes - and you need to have proof of this BEFORE taking the permit test.

I realized this the night before the test at 8PM.

I should have just apologized and told him we would reschedule.

But I didn't want to do that, so I picked up the phone and called a relative who is a driving instructor for a living. He rushed over and gave us the certificate (so thoughtful and kind).

Problem solved.

Bub got his permit and all was happy.

NOT.

The relative I called has some ISSUES.

We have not let him be around out kids for some time (especially Bub) because we think he is secretly not only gay, but a bit of a pedophile.

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LET ME CLARIFY several things before I move ahead with the story.

#1 - I say "secretly gay" because he is married and not open and up front about being gay.

I actually think he is in denial and has not admitted it even to himself.

#2 - I understand that one can be hetero or gay and be a pedophile and one can be hetero or gay and NOT be a pedohile.

I am just clarifying that in THIS particular case, I believe this relative is likely gay AND a pedophile.

#3 - For purpose of clarity, I said "bit" of a pedophile because I am not SURE and I hate to accuse, but here are my thoughts:

He doesn't seem attracted to LITTLE LITTLE kids, but rather young pubescent boys (12-16).

I do not know that he has ever acted on it.

But he seems to have an intense attraction (he gravitates toward and bonds with this age group overtly)... which does not make someone a pedophile.

However, his wife found 13 bookmarked "twink" porn sites (young, underage appearing, bald/shaved male porn) on his computer. AND his intense friendships with boys AND accusations - later taken back, but HELLO?, still initially accused - of a little inappropriate behavior with young teen boys in a home where he once lived.

****************************************************

So - and I HATE admitting this - I guess I USED this relative to get what I wanted & needed with no thought to his needs and feelings. I selfishly called him and he lovingly responded and met my need.

Then he knew Bub was taking classes and, of course, planned to be the one to teach him.

3 two-hour sessions alone in the car together.

Now I feel guilty.

I called him.

I shouldn't have, but I did.

He didn't call me.

He didn't ask.

I did.

So I dragged him in to this to get MY needs met and now I want to say "NO, pervert. You can't drive my son."

That seems so mean and heartless that I think I need to let my son drive with him... after all I owe that to him, right???

Well, that doesn't seem right either? Sacrifice my son and just HOPE everything is OK because I made a selfish mistake and called him???

It HURTS and is humiliating to admit to myself and to you that I only thought of myself and my selfish needs to make my kids happy.

Anyhow, Bub got his permit.

But then Uncle wanted to do the first driving lesson.

I scheduled lesson on a Sunday, Uncle's day off. ("Sorry, that was the only day that would work.")

Uncle reworked schedule to be able to be the one to take Bub... I don't think in a predatory way, just to be nice (and he IS a great driver).

So what do I do?

Do I let Bub go with him or do I say "Sorry, I made a mistake, I am a terrible person"?

My folks both said something along the lines of: "Oh, nothing will probably happen, you should let Bub drive with Uncle"... no one wants to hurt Uncle's feelings (wonder where I got it?? That dysfunctional alcoholic family thinking is generational).

Confession: I was going to send Bub with Uncle.

I am not proud of this.

I am sad and sickened.

But I was.

Honestly.

I felt like I owed it to him after I brought HIM into it.

I was a terrible person and this was my consequence (or something like that).

This is my lifetime behavior. This is what I have always done. This is "comfortable". This is my knee-jerk reflex.

What stopped me from doing what I have always done?

The only thing that I can really say is that I realized I didn't want to tell Dr. (my therapist).

As I was making the decision, I realized that I did not want to tell Dr. that I was going to allow my child to go in the car for 2 hours alone with someone about whom I had concerns... that I WOULDN'T tell Dr... That I couldn't tell him.

I followed that logic then:

Why can't I tell Dr.?

He wouldn't understand... He would think it was wrong.

If it is NOT wrong and it is right then you should be able to do it AND tell Dr.

NO. It wouldn't make sense to him why I did it.

Why does it make sense to YOU why you would do it?

Because it is not Uncle's fault. I dragged him into it. he didn't ask to be dragged in. I can't hurt him like that.

Yes, but what about your Bub... isn't it more important to protect Bub?

Well nothing will probably happen. I mean after all, Bub is 15 now. And Uncle wouldn't try anything on the job and it is a driving lesson... driving... around town... in a car... it will be OK.

Well, then you should be comfortable telling Dr. then.

No WAY!!!

And somehow even though I somehow deluded myself into thinking this was sane, Dr.'s sanity guided me (or shamed be or scared me) into making a good decision I could not make for myself.

I just had to face the music and OWN the fact that I had been selfish with Uncle and not avoid that or pretend it didn't happen or try to make it like it didn't.

I was selfish.

I used him.

That was wrong.

I am sorry.

It is not OK for me to let Bub drive with him.

Period.

Let the chips fall where they may.

I am learning and growing but MAN, is it long and tough and painful.

I pray I do better next time (and the next and the next).

My Secret Blog

This is my secret blog.

I have a "real" blog that people can see that has family photos and updates about kids sports and plays and proms and birthdays.

I guess I shouldn't call it my "real" blog, I should call it my public blog.

It IS real... it is all real and good and important stuff... but so is this one.

It is real too.

it is real.

Both are real.

Secret stuff and public stuff are both real.

This one is associated with a secret email address and is anonymous so I have to keep myself signed out all the time and then I get lazy about signing out of my "public" blog and then secretly signing onto this one and then making sure I log out of this one etc.  So sometimes I get lazy about coming here and writing this one.

And maybe I like to forget these things... the alcoholic family things.  

Maybe I kinda like to pretend this is all "in the past" and just linger on the "public" blog stuff (the sports, proms, plays, and parties).

But again, both are real and true.

When I come here, it is like a secret indulgence... a guilty pleasure.

It is my journal online.

But Mr. M or one of my kids isn't going to find it under my mattress one day and say "GASP!!! You felt what?!?!?!?"  It is just me and the page and whoever chooses to join me (hi... thanks for stopping by).

Just because Mr. M is in recovery right now and working a program and using a sponsor and doing his steps and we are in therapy and we are making some progress does not mean we are healed or no longer an alcoholic home.  So this whole journal stays true.

It is still real.

Midnight Fight

I am feeling sad these days. Kind of just a dark cloud sitting on my heart. I find myself missing Mr. M when he is at work or when it is not one of his 'sleepover' nights (yet scared and dreading him moving back in when he has his 1 year sobriety birthday in a little more than a month ~ yikes!).

I call him and sound all sappy... and he has a bit of trouble with this because he takes it personally. I must be sad because he is such a terrible person and if he hadn't been a drunk and ruined my life, I wouldn't be sad. So it is hard. Do I not call him at all because he can't handle it? Do I call him and slap a fake happy face on? Do I call and still just be sad and bring him down? Tough call.

More later... I had to publish post and go do a few pressing things (you know, the tyranny of the urgent)... I will log on soon and finish.
xo

I'm back and changing gears.

Mr. M spent the night last night as he does each week.
We got in a big fight at 5:30AM this morning.
We have been doing so well... we have not been fighting much. We have been getting along. (Although new teen Girlie would disagree. She says "All you and Dad do is fight." I said "Really? I feel like we have not been fighting that well and doing really well." She said "Nope. All you do is fight." So I tried to just HEAR her - I am in therapy, after all - "So you feel like all we do is fight?" To which she replied "No. I don't FEEL like all you do is fight... I KNOW all you do is fight.")

This morning one of the kids woke up early panicking that a history book was in Dad's car when they have homework to do. From my bed, in the dark, I lifted my head and groggily parented: "If you had done your homework after school yesterday instead of watching TV, you would have known that and we could have done something about that."

The weeping commenced "I NEED to get it done!!!"

Parenting from the bed in the dark continued "I know... that's frustrating."

You know the drill.

At this point Mr. M was awakened (GASP, NO!... the horror!)... he was surly and grumpy that his slumber was disturbed.

I was not apologetic.

If anything, I was a little mad.

After all, MY sleep was disturbed too. But sometimes that's what being a parent looks like. It is disturbing and uncomfortable. Kids have needs at all hours of the day and night. Sometimes they have bad dreams at 3AM and want to climb into your bed and then proceed to roll and kick and flail in your bed all night long and you wake feeling like you have been on the losing end of a prize fight and someone has poured sand in your eye sockets. Sometimes they barf all over their beds and themselves at 1AM and you need to get up and give them a bath and change their sheets. Sometimes they get chicken pox and can't sleep at all because they are so itchy and you have to stay up all night long watching Disney movie after Disney movie on the sofa for 12 straight hours. Sometimes they spend the night at a friend's house and are scared in the middle of the night and you have to drive over and get them.

I thought of 21 years of parenting in the middle of the night and how rarely he had been there for so much of it. How much I did all by myself. How alone I was. And then the NERVE of him complaining because his sleep was a little disturbed by me parenting our child at 5AM!

So it escalated and in his angry, self-righteous storming around, he accidentally knocked over a lamp in trying to turn it on and accidentally smooshed our 10 lb. dog who was under the covers in bed (heehee). The dog yelped/cried and this infuriated him. WHY IS THE DOG IN OUR BED???!? WHY IS THE DOG SUCH A BABY?! He grabbed the dog out of the bed and dropped her on the floor. He is yelling at this point and stomping around and dropping F-bombs left and right. I tell him to leave and he says "gladly" and leaves.

Now, this is a tough situation because no argument in an alcoholic marriage is just about that argument. As you just read, even the smallest, most insignificant argument has a lifetime of history in it.

Was I in the wrong? - Should I not have asked him to leave? If he lived here full-time, I couldn't have asked him to leave. (Can you see why I am nervous to have him move back in?) Am I in the wrong for asking him to leave in the first place? I was mad... that's OK. Feelings are feelings. But was I wrong for allowing all those hurt feelings from 20 years of marriage to enter into the argument?

Was he? - What is his part? Obviously, he over-reacted. But, in fairness, he was dead asleep and got abruptly woken up to arguing and crying and lights coming on. But he was ONLY concerned with HIS sleep and HIS precious rest. Did I even enter in? Have I ever????

Input welcome.

Plus, I owe a Therapy update soon.

Weak Faith

HAHAHA!

This wife of an alcoholic finds HER faith to be much stronger in the winter too!

I LOVE this cartoon.

I wish it wasn't so true.

But if you can't beat it, laugh at it!!!!!!!

hahahahahahahaha

Distant Land Part 3

I finished the book The Distant Land of My Father by Bo Caldwell.

SPOILER ALERT:

Anna's mother dies of leukemia.

Years later, Anna's dad dies of a heart attack.

I can't even remember WHAT exactly got to me, but I actually started to cry so hard I had to put the book down.

Obviously, I was not crying about the book or the story, but about myself and my own hurts and pain.

I made ugly crying faces and little gurgling crying noises and cried and cried.

I cried about my life and my parents and my alcoholic husband and my kids and myself.

I cried about how I don't let myself be comforted and I don't let myself cry.

I cried about the dilemma of facing all your hurts with your parents but still liking & loving them and wanting to be in relationship with them and is that OK?  Am I "allowed" to do that? Am I "allowed" to want that?

I cried about Hacker who is working so hard at his new job and is actually doing difficult and scary things (cold call sales) that I am too terrified to do... and while I am PROUD as punch, I am also freaked out because it makes me uncomfortable when he calls people  that I feel too uncomfortable calling.

I cried because Anna (the book's protagonist) allowed her horrible, selfish, abandoning father to hug her and comfort her after her mother's death.  She allowed herself to receive comfort, even though it would be imperfect.  She allowed it to be enough for that moment.  She needed it and she accepted it.

I cried and cried.

I felt sad.

I felt true.

I felt a little scared & out of control.

I felt a little hopeful.

I got a headache and a stuffed up nose.

No More Politics

OK.

I'm done.

Those were my few little political rants.

Moving on.

Back to my pity-pot, controlling, fear mongering ways.

I promise.

xoxo

Rush Limbaugh's Inaugural Poem

I FOUND IT!!! I FOUND IT!!! 

Rush Limbaugh's own version of the politically correct Inaugural poem:

"This is hilarious.
Somebody, somewhere, thought this was exceptional.
You have to understand, somebody thought that this was brilliant.
It's a code.
I don't understand it.

Today there's a street outside.
On that street are cars.
And in those cars are people with music on their iPods.
And they listen.
And the children in the back of the car, who are also on the road, may or may not be in their child safety seats, in which case the driver will be arrested and the child taken away.
When the car gets to its destination, it may run out of gas. If it runs out of gas, it's obviously a gas guzzler, and if it's a gas guzzler, then we need to harness the energy of the sun and punish the SOB driving the gas guzzler.
If the car gets to its destination with plenty of gas left in the tank, we give it a bonus of additional markers at Walmart for the day after Christmas, which is how today was planned.
And after we go to Walmart and pick up some of the lead paint that is made with our children in mind, imported from China, we will then have a meeting with the Iranians, who will love us, and they will get in their car, will also be on their road, and their road shall never end until they have nuclear weapons.

I'm sorry. If I can do it, it isn't art. 

And when we get to the end of the road, with the person driving the guzzler, 

with the perhaps or not perhaps child safety seats in the back, 

we will then know the answer to the question, which came first, the chicken or the egg?

And why did the egg cross the road to see something better down the road. 

But could the egg have crossed the road without the chicken? 

These are depth questions. 

And only President Obama has the answers.