...until James is out of school. I cannot wait because the days will not be so empty with him around. It makes me wonder just how I will deal when he grows up and moves on in his life.
We (My dad and I) moved the extra chair I bought to his apartment today. It looks nice there and has also freed up one spot in the living room. It was beginning to look like a parking lot of chairs, and tables and ottomans and couches... Krandall is still up against a wall, awaiting his fate. I have made the decision to give him away. I can't hold on to everything and looking at him is usually enough to send me off into hours of tears. I can still picture my beloved curled up on his side, sleeping, waiting for me to come in and wake him up for bed. I miss him. But Krandall is, after all, just a chair.
James and I had just each other tonight. Nik and her boyfriend were off to the Tigers game. They are also going tomorrow night. I wish she would do more around the house... I wish I didn't have to plead. I have gotten to where I just about give up.
I am mad at myself for being quick to anger today. I was frustrated with my dad. He continues to tell me what I should do, how I should handle things and it gets under my skin. Yes, he is a huge help and I am so glad that he is here but I want him to be just Poppy to the kids. I can't rely on everyone to fix my life. It is unfixable at this point. At least there is nothing he could say to fix it. I know he badly wants to. Telling me I am wrong at every bend in the road isn't going to do it.
Am I as scattered here as I feel I am?
The kitten is a whirling dervish tonight--eyes huge, ears flattened, racing around. I've been calling him speed racer. A boy kitty with a mission.
Krandall is going to the same person who took the truck. The thing is, I wish he would stop bringing up the truck. He is also a bit of a story teller, a bit full of himself, and the exact opposite of Leonard. Of course, Leonard was perfect. This man is my mother's "new daughter's" husband. I can see why she likes him so much. I don't want them dwelling on something that doesn't concern them. Aye...contentious me.
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11 comments:
Then you will have James for the summer! Take it easy this summer and do some things for yourself. After the winter we had, you deserve it.
Hugs to you!
Sounds like a good time for some mom 'n son activities. That would be wonderful for both of you I think!
I hate it when people tel me what to do or tell me what I am doing is wrong all the time. Very frustrating. Sounds like your redecoration is going well.
Oh, Yay! James will be with you for the summer! Enjoy those days and have FUN!!! :o)
I hear you on getting rid of beloved items. I have NO idea *how* we are going to be able to part with Hannah's "cave". It breaks my heart just thinking of it, yet, it *needs* to be done.
Good luck, friend! And, as always, TONS of hugs!
:o)
Don't worry about what you'll do when he is grown and moves forward with his life. Worry about today. One day at a time, better yet, one minute at a time! Hugs to you!
Oh my. Your mother has a "new daughter"? That sounds so much like my mother. Hugs to you as always.
Your Dad adores you sweetie..he Can't help himself..I'm the same..If I love you, I Want to make your world ...better...Anyway I can. He's pushing because he's on the outside looking in and can't "fix it"...I know that feeling well...My love to you sweetie...hughugs
You named the chair?! I mean, Mom used to name her cars (the Hyundai was Kim, of course; the Duster was Dolly, because, she said, it had big headlights...) but a chair?! Boggles the mind.
And where on Earth did "Krandall" come from?!
Leonard named him Krandall, after the style name of the chair. Yes, he had a bit of a best friendship going on with this chair.
Don't plead. Don't ever plead. Tell her what needs to be done, point out that you are a family, and chores need to be shared. Offer a quid pro quo. If she does this, she will be allowed to do that.
Tell her that, if she won't help out around the house, you will quit doing extra things for her. Cook her favourite meal? Forget it. It's mac and cheese, because you have too many chores to get cooking.
I think your dad is like the guy who hit me in his car, all those years ago. He tried to stand me on my feet, because that would mean I was all right, and he didn't have to feel bad for me, or guilty. It's a good thing my friend who knew first aid was there, or I would have been stood up on a broken pelvis.
Go at your own pace, but you have to get the kids on your side, and not pulling against you.
She's 18, and she is sick of sorrow. She wants to have fun. I know how she feels. I'm almost 59 and sick of sorrow. Unfortunately, I'm stuck with it, and, no matter how much I shoo it away, it comes back. She, being a kid, is more resilient. You could try working with her..."Let's hurry up and get this done, so we can go and do that."
I don't think you're being contentious. You're feeling your own independence, and I think that's good.
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