You would never break the chain

I have been thinking alot about my role in my family of origin. 

I feel like the above quote captures me EXACTLY. 

I don't know how to change. 

The idea of change is so overwhelming that I rarely let myself even think about it. 

Just writing this post is making me feel anxious. 

I should have my life figured out better by 40, right?

L 

What If?

What if...

   I finished decorating my house?

   My kids followed their laundry schedule?

   Jack and I got on the same parenting page?

   I become healthy?

   I developed hobbies?

   My kids were progressing and developing into the 
   the people they are meant to be?

   Life felt like an adventure and meaningful?

   My sisters and I took sister trips?

    I learned to set boundaries?

   I got out of debt and lived financially free?

       I could stick to a plan or mindset for more than 
    three days?

    

What Do You Think?

I’m thinking of letting go of the constant oversight and management of my kids. Here was my thought process this morning:

8:00: I think about getting up.  I should work out. I actually get out of my bed and sit in the living room to watch people as they walk by outside. I’m hoping to find some inspiration.  I wonder if little Jack is up. I figure he is probably in the basement watching his third hour of curse-laced youtube on low volume.

8:10 I go back to bed and indulge in an hour of maladaptive daydreaming. Those orphans aren’t going to save themselves, and there is a sensitive but still alpha male waiting to take me to vineyards somewhere in Europe.

9:00 I actually get up. I think about the yard work, James’ homework, and how Jack is working more weekends in June. I get on my phone and start zoning out.

9:15 As I am scrolling through Pinterest, I see something about Jim Thorpe, PA. It looks sooo charming. I actually feel a little excited and happy.  I should go!!  I could go today or tomorrow. I should also go to Valley Forge!   But wait, the kids won’t want to go. They will fight. They will want to control the music and be bribed with fast food. Maybe I go without them?  Or take whomever wants to come?  But who will make sure the yard work gets done? What about James’ homework?  What about little Jack’s dark eye circles?

9:18 I should let go. They know what is expected and hovering isn’t working anyway. What if I just did things I love to do?  I would be happier, less stressed.  But is that giving up?  Maybe my kids will be happier if I am happier?  I could be giving up and rationalizing. I will ask my sisters :)

For My Sisters to Read and Give Me Answers and Support

Thoughts:

*I can't get anything done.  I don't even start because I know three minutes into a task, someone will end up screaming or cursing or sneaking on to electronics or make a huge mess in the kitchen.  It takes a lot of momentum to start a task (weeding the yard, cleaning the garage, etc).  Working in a "start and stop" way saps all of my motivation.  

*I feel resentful.  I should be able to weed for a couple hours without stopping six times due to nonsense.

More Thoughts (About a week later):
* I started the day with some momentum.  I went and voted. I walked back with plans to garden.  When I got back, James was over his time on the computer.  Little Jack was in a dark mood about the internet being blocked on his devices.  He had gotten up at 1:00 am to watch tv, and his dad found him at 4 am.  Our discussion about it went nowhere.  Ellie did not get out of bed until 2:00 pm.  In an effort to get going, I sauteed zuchinni and tried to find a TED talk.  I feel like I need to show energy and enthusiasm for life so my kids will.  I should go out and shovel up grass and weeds in the border along the house.  But it sounds so overwhelming.  Plus, at 4:00 when Jack gets home, we have to go together and pick up my car from the shop.  I hate interacting with people, and I hate driving. While Jack is helping with the payment, it is taking up all of my savings and some of my city fund.  I don't know how to fight this.  I am almost 300 pounds.  I have no energy - physical or mental.  I do have good days (yesterday I was all jazzed that these are my people, and I stick with them no matter what).  

(Don't) Lean on Me...

Sometimes, all someone needs are a few words of comfort to get them through trying times. 

These are not those words. 

*Three Sisters Blog neither supports nor actively participates in comforting those in need. You are on your own, little buddy.*

L

Baby Limpski

Disney lied. 

Most of us spent our growing up years watching stories of princesses being swept off their feet by handsome princes and living happily ever after. 

Then we got married. 

And realized our "happily ever after" was really just catering to a fussy toddler...uh...our "Prince Charming" forever. 

My Prince Charming is a bus driver with a penchant for corn dogs.

In addition to his love of finger foods, R likes to tell BAD jokes. 

Not cool bad. Like jokes about strippers and blow. 

Just genuinely bad. 

Yesterday, I saw an ant and said "Look at that ant." To which he replied "Where is the uncle?" and proceeded to laugh, looking at me expectantly to do the same. 

R likes me to inspect things he has cleaned. And then deluge him with praise. 

"Look at the cabinets, I pledged them"

When I replied "Ok", he squirmed in visible disappointment. 

Apparently his emotional bucket was empty and he wanted me to fill it.

I am just waiting for him to ask me to give him his sippy cup and change his diaper. 

And since I am not Erin, I would not enjoy that. 

My next husband is going to be a stoic, emotionally unavailable, and distant. 

But he will have amazing hair and a solid retirement plan.

My Prince Charming at last. 

L

Lights, Camera..Gimp

 

                                               

Lights, Camera...Gimp

                                               

The stage cold, the audience one, the actor broken

Since the start of our journey D has never closed the curtains on his one man show no stage "too big or small". He believes the world needs to see his show. No venue, setting, even (family or friends gathering) is an inappropriate time play "show and tell" with his emotional wounds. I've caught D numerous times setting up a makeshift stage so complete strangers (usually my friends) can hear his tales of pain. He once trapped a man (my friend/coworkers Husband) during a time of merriment and joy (our friend/coworkers wedding) and limped proudly onto his stage of emotional wreckage (the corner of the dancefloor) to share with this man that this day was significant as it was a three weeks away from the day 15 years ago that his Papa would pass. I could see the lights dim and the trapped audience bewilderment at how they purchased this ticket. This would not slow D he was primed for the performance, ready to bare all. Two people left that time of merriment (myself and my friends husband) perplexed, shaken and aged from the performance. One person however, left invigorated, clambering for more and ready for the next (inappropriate) time to become an emotional nudist, a streaker, a flasher of the truth in his soul.