___________February 29, 2016__________

Leap Day!

It’s one of THOSE days.  One that you won’t see for another four years.  It’s a LEAP day!  I’ll let you know whether that’s a good thing after the fact, if it’s all the same to you.  😉  It can’t get much worse than it’s been.  And thank heavens I’ll be seeing BFF tonight.  I really need to talk to her, at this point in life… and it feels embarrassing to admit that.  I don’t normally need anyone at all.  It’s not my thing.  She might not know what to do with this, tonight!  (I also need a really, really HARD swim.)

This was NOT. A. Good. Weekend.  I… don’t even think I can write about it all.  As it is, I vent (albeit mildly) all over you WAY too much.  This would be brutal.  You don’t want to hear me yell and rage and wave figurative hands around in the air and make virtual exasperated sounds.  Over bad Mexican food.  (Stop it, I’ll blush!!)  I was NOT happy.  And that was just one tiny ridge on the iceberg of bad weekendom.

Saturday we did nothing of importance.  Our illuminated letters.  Brian worked – we have no swim for two weeks, so we did the coloring project.  Had Shabbat dinner when he got home.  Brian spent the day in the barn, working on side project stuff.  (Scrapped out a piece, because this place buys cheap steel, apparently.  He had a chunk big enough to work with of his own, and said he’d just recycle that crap and use his own steel.  Who knew there was cheap steel?  I didn’t!  But yeah… I kind of knew he’s a purist where milling is concerned.)

I did chapter three of 1 Corinthians.  The kids played in the snow while they could, because it was supposed to (and did) hit 50 on Sunday.  Which, by the way, after our Thursday snow-dump?  Made for a HUGE mess, here.  If Grand Rapids were up by Traverse City, I’d like it a LOT better, just sayin’.  And the 50 degrees last weekend with 20 mid-week soaring to 50 again, yesterday?  HomiGAWSH, my spine is not happy.  I’ve been squirming in discomfort all weekend.  It’s been bad.  It’s apparently time for a herniated disk flare-up.  It’s been a few years, so… but… it doesn’t help matters where an emo chick’s mood is concerned.

We watched ‘Independence Day’ (<< with Will Smith?) for the first time, ever, Saturday.  SO much Judaism in it – I was delighted and surprised, both!  It was fun.  For something from 1996, r’something.  We have a LOT of movies that we’ve never seen – I buy them at thrifts, garage sales… when ‘Movie Gallery’ went out of business, I’d have Brian and the kids drop me at a video store.  Our video collection is pretty massive – and is half VHS, half DVD.  We watch from both, often.  🙂

Sunday stunk.  Start to finish.  Brian and I got into it about midnight… I was angry at him because I give him all the time he wants/needs in the barn, but he gives us nothing when he comes back inside.  It’s like he shuts down.  And I get that he wants to relax, some, but not at the expense of us.  Plus he comes in and just DUMPS stuff everywhere.  And the kids come in and just DUMP stuff – I found a massive WAD of snow-pants dripping all over in the bathtub as I was getting ready for bed, and pretty much went postal.  They threw them all on top of the box of stuff I had packed up to go to Goodwill.  And he saw it and walked RIGHT past it, and didn’t even blink.  (!!!!)  I swear… with five kids, I spend 95% of my time dealing with everyone else’s disasters, which are barfed all OVER the space I have to live in, too!  Gah.

Sunday morning Brian had to go to work, again.  Only for a few hours, so he got up early and took Ethan with him (they LOVE going into work with him, and take turns).  No weekend for the man, this week.  Then he came home and went out and started up the machinery in the barn.  And… I… there were still sparks in my eyes, from the night before.  So while the machine was cutting, we CLEANED.  Everyone.  A lot.  Because this place was just overwhelming.  (Still is.  The problem is, we USE all of it.  It can’t go away.  It’s necessary.  It’s just SO much, and catches up with me.)  On top of that, my spine was just not doing well… and I was down on hands and knees, vacuuming corners and crevices… it wasn’t happy.

He worked outside most of the afternoon, until he got the job finished (yay!), but the kids were stuck inside – the melt was just wet and slop and GROSS, and… anyhow, it was fine.  They have a lot to mess around with, in here.  But we decided that our weekend adventure would be to go to the first of the Flick’s Family Films (spring 2016 edition).  Twice a year the cinema (at all of its locations!) has free kid movies for children 12 and under.  That means for $15, our family of seven can see a movie on the big screen.  Anyhow, it was ‘Hotel Transylvania 2’.

And half a million years ago when we started this tradition, we’d go to this one cinema that was very close to our favorite Mexican restaurant.  We’d go every weekend of the FFFest… dinner and a movie.  It was fun, it was SUCH good food, the ambiance was beautiful, Victor (<< manager) would come out and laugh/joke with us…  Then Victor went back to Mexico.  Jorge took over, and he’s a sourpuss who doesn’t really give a crap who comes in.  Then he hired a painter to defile the restaurants walls with gaudy, ugly murals of Mexico and ruin the ambiance.  Then he took away the Sunday afternoon kid meals, that REALLY hurt us (we needed that).  But the food was so good, we still went… and then next time, they changed the outside of the restaurant – changed the name and logo and it’s… ridiculous.  Then they changed the menu, and I had to special order our favorite meals (what five out of seven of us ate).

Now they’ve changed the supplier for their food, because everything was wrong.  The food didn’t taste good at all – it was TERRIBLE.  It didn’t even look the same… I don’t know what happened, but it was just nasty.  And they refused to let me special order to have what we really liked.  I was absolutely at the end of my rope with them.  It’s been getting worse and worse… and at this point, nobody wants to go back.  I think we’re done with it.  In mourning – it was SO good, before.  And it’s hideous, now.

Don’t go see ‘Hotel Transylvania 2’.  It SUCKED. No, it really wasn’t good at all.  I’m not liking animated movies.  They’re so FAST!  They move so fast, I can’t catch what’s going on.  Even in the previews- they’re flashing lists of names across the screen so fast, I can’t read who’s in the movie!  I don’t know if that’s old age or what, but I don’t like it.  Things shouldn’t happen that fast.  People can’t focus.  They can’t relax, they can’t enjoy it.  Half the jokes I don’t even have time to laugh at!  (Pass me my dentures and bifocals, willya?)  😛

On our way out of the theater, we saw a sign outside of the ‘Deadpool’ theatre – it read: “In order to provide a less distracting atmosphere for our patrons, we are no longer allowing children of six in rated R films.”  What. The. Heck?!?!?!?!   I thought Rated R was for 17 and over!  Apparently, though, if you’re with an adult, you can be admitted to a rated ‘R’ film.  I think that’s horrible.  And that’s MODERN ‘R’ ratings… since the year 2000, what used to be PG is now G, what was once PG-13 is PG, and what was R is now PG-13.  What does that say about rated R movies?!

It boggles the mind!

All hell broke loose when we got home.  My back hurt.  The movie sucked.  The food sucked.  There HAD to be a way to redeem the day, and I wanted to fling blankets over the dining table, light a candle, and create a hide-out and have chocolates and play cards under there.  Brian said absolutely not (with the insinuation that I was acting like a 2yo… which I didn’t appreciate.  He can be SO stuck up.)  He just doesn’t want to get down on the floor.  Comfort zone B.S. that has been the bane of our marriage for almost 20 years, hello.

So thwarted, then I thought maybe a dip in the hot tub.  That’s innocuous, right?  Well, apparently my girl is in the middle of a visit from Aunt Flo, so she ‘couldn’t go in the hot tub’ because of it.  (I hate the word *can’t*.  I don’t believe in the word *can’t*.)  There is NO reason she can’t go it – you either suck it up and Diva like I do, or you go the tampon route, but there are options.  And she WILL NOT consider either one.  She is SO much like Brian’s side on these things, it just peeves the hell out of me.  She *can’t* do pretty much anything.  She restricts herself because of her own comfort zone issues, which are irrational.  She won’t let me show her how to deal with things… I swear, she’s so wrapped up in this false propriety shit that I don’t even think she knows what she’s got goin’ on, down nether-wise.  She’s probably trying to insert the tampon rectally or something stupid.  And she WILL NOT allow me to even SPEAK to her about these things.  Which just infuriates me to no end – it’s my JOB to help her understand stuff.  And she’s just so closed-up and… and… !!!

I mean, I was sheltered.  Seriously sheltered.   But what Lydia has going on isn’t even on par with what I was, back then – at least I could use a freakin’ tampon, for the love of Pete!  It’s ridiculous.  And I know that she has ‘modestly’ issues – doesn’t like to bare her arms, doesn’t like to wear strappy dance costumes, must have her stomach covered, has to have a skirt on her swimsuit.  I get that.  But being crippled to the point where she can’t put in a tampon?  Seriously?!  And being UNWILLING to even hear anything about it?  Where she’d let it come between her and LIVING?  That’s just not even right.

It was a bad night for this.  My back hurt, two days straight.  Everything else went wrong all evening long, leading up to this.  And she threw this at me.  I lost it. And okay, Brian’s right – I lost it and morphed into my mother for about three minutes.  (And HATED myself for it, afterwards, but that’s what I learned, that’s what I know.  And even fighting it for all my worth on a good day – even a partially miserable day – she caught me vulnerable.)  And I *WILL NOT* apologize for what I said – it was all true, and she needed to hear it.  But I hate that she pushed me there, too.  And I’m pissed and hurt that he called me on it.  I ended up shutting away until kids were out of the picture for the night.  It really was better, that way.  I’m not fit for public consumption when I’m NOT channeling my demonic mother.

(I wasn’t going to go here.  Stop coaxing me into stuff like this.)

We did end up in the hot tub – he and I, after the kids were down and I’d calmed some with coffee while perched up on a kitchen counter in a corner.  Hot tubbing helped – but it was sleeting pretty hard.  Cold as heck outside.  Then the sleet turned to ice, and that was mixed with these monster snowflakes.  My hair is DESTROYED, today.  But it diffused me just enough that I’m partially functioning, today.  Thank the Lord above for routine – it got us thru school, this morning.  And today we’re playing that oh-so-fun game of ‘What conflict?  Nothing happened…!’ that I love OH so much.  And she won – nobody’s making her put a tampon in.  Nobody talked reproductive parts.  Nothing happened.  Life is great, la-ti-da… my mom and Brian’s mom plays this game.  I don’t LIKE it.  I want conflict resolution, not conflict avoidance.

I should just shut my mouth – let her hole up in herself and become the joy that Brian’s mother is.  His mom *can’t* even grocery shop, anymore… there are too many people, it requires too much driving, and is too time consuming.  (I’m not kidding.)  Her favorite word is “effort”.  Everything takes too much “effort”.  I should just let Lydia be what she chooses to be, and move on with my damn life.  Screw her.  She can sit home on her hiney and do jack nuthin’, and I’ll go hike and bike and explore and swim and LIVE.  But dadgummit, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t somehow *FIX* this stupidity, hm?   And what if I can’t fix it?  What if genetics are truly that strong, that I’m stuck reverting to my mom’s behaviors, that Lydia somehow inherited his mother’s personality and we’ll end up hating each other, someday, too?  In that case, I should be distancing from her RIGHT now, so as not to be hurt worse in the long run.

Nevermind.  There’s no answer.  I don’t know what to do.  And I’m mad about it.  Cry-ish-ly mad, and that makes me even more furious.  Subject change – now.

Just wait until the FOUR boys hit puberty, right?  Good merciful heavens, what was I THINKING?!?!?!?!!

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