More. Big. Hairy. Balls.

After my last post I really thought I couldn't handle one more thing. The big hairy balls had done me in.

Well, I guess Karma had something else in mind for me, that bitch.

Turns out I can handle more balls

Especially when they come in the "my husband is in the ER with a cardiac condition" flavor. AKA the biggest, hairiest ball of them all.

So, instead of my husband telling me he has been feeling his heart race and do weird things for a few months and getting it checked out, he decided to wait until it was not only racing and jumping, but he was dizzy and short of breath. Fortunately, he works at a hospital and one of the nurse practitioners listened to his heart and immediately sent him to the ER.

I was in the middle of a meeting with Noah's behavior specialist last Thursday afternoon when he called to tell me where he was headed. 

I told him I was on my way and on the drive managed to call our neighbors and ask if they could get Noah off the bus, call school and let them know so they could tell Noah to go to the neighbors and let the bus driver know who was going to meet Noah, and call daycare and let them know I would be getting Kiel later than usual. (juggling those balls)

To make a very long story just as long a little shorter, Rich was in the ER with atrial flutter, a hemoglobin of 9.1 (normal is 14 - 16, 8 is when they start to transfuse) and a positive test for blood in his stool. The initial thought was that he had a GI bleed. The GI doc came though and said his anemia was not consistent with an active bleed and whatever was going on was a chronic condition. One doctor was telling us the atrial flutter was from low blood volume from the bleed, but then the GI doc said there was no low blood volume and the flutter was something separate. GI doc did do an upper endoscopy on him the next morning.  The endoscopy did not show anything clinically significant.

Cardiologist was brought in and sent Rich for an echocardiogram right after the upper endoscopy. The echo showed the right side of his heart was enlarged, which the cardiologist couldn't make sense of, so he sent him for a CT scan to check for pulmonary embolisms. If he was clear of blood clots in his lungs the plan was to do a cardiac ablation to zap out the bad signal that was causing the flutter.

At this point I freaked out and called my mom and told her I needed her and my dad to come out and help. They were surprised, but thankfully they packed up and drove from Michigan to help with the boys. I don't know what I would have done if they hadn't been able or willing to come.

I waited to have my freakout until I was in the parking garage of the hospital getting ready to go pick up Kiel from daycare.  As I left the garage I handed the attendant my ticket, which he handed right back to me and said no, I need the blue ticket, this one is for the other garage. Of course I was crying, and that just sent me over into the ugly cry. I tried to find the ticket, but could barely see. By this time I was holding up cars behind me and the attendant was looking at me with a mixture of horror and disgust. He finally just said to forget about it and waved me on through.

The CT scan showed no clots in his lungs so they decided he could come home for the weekend if he wanted, and go back in to the hospital Monday morning for the ablation.

He came home for the weekend and I held my breath the entire time. Every time he moved he was out of breath and he could feel the funny rhythm in his chest. When he was sleeping if he stopped snoring I woke him up to make sure he was still alive. I was a nervous wreck.And I also realized just how much he does do around the house between taking care of the boys and cooking.

Then the next ball came along and Friday night I realized it was time to take "the cat that would not die" to the vet where he would lose the word "not" in his title. :(

Fortunately a friend of mine took Noah to karate Saturday morning and he spent time with her son, while I took Stel to the vet.

The vet sucked, as it always does when you are putting a loved animal to sleep. It was time though, and I knew that. 

They sent me home with a paw print made in "clay" that I had to bake to harden.

A friend of mine, Bella, my angel, came over to help me crisis clean for my parents visit. I can't even describe to you how awesome it was having her here with me and how much she did to help! 

As the paw print was cooling on the counter Noah thought he would help by microwaving it. The in house fire alarm went off as the house filled with toxic black smoke. We were all upstairs and raced down to figure out was what going on (including Rich, who should not have been running). We sat outside on the deck for an hour and a half as the house aired out.

Bella and I stayed up late drinking wine and talking. It was very nice!

The next morning we woke up and our neighbor knocked on the door to tell us I had a flat tire. All I could do was laugh, really laugh. I mean really. Karma was losing her touch if that was all she could give me.

My parents arrived Sunday afternoon and the boys were just thrilled. I think they were happy to see the boys as well.

Monday morning we were back at the hospital for Rich to have the ablation. The procedure went well, but they found an atrial septal defect (ASD) during the procedure. It is a congenital condition, but since his heart has started to enlarge and he had the arythmia, they suggest he have it corrected before anything worse happens. We are waiting to find out if he can have it done via catheter (non-invasive) or if it will have to be done as an open heart procedure.

A hematologist came in to talk about Rich's anemia and they determined it was due to chronic iron deficiency from malabsorption.  They gave him an iron infusion and will again weekly for another four or five weeks.

He came home Tuesday morning, well tuned up, but with future repairs needed, which we will figure out.

I realized through all of this that even when I think I've reached my limit I can manage what I have to.

I ain't afraid of no BALLS!


 

Some awesome and some damage control

We have had two wonderful and entertaining evenings with Noah. Well, Rich did tonight and we both did last night. The difference in Noah when he feels he is in a safe environment, and I think being with one or both of us helps make unfamiliar environments safer (which is a huge step forward for him), is akin to the difference between night and day.

The more I understand about attachment the more I understand Noah. Even when his behavior doesn't quite make sense, I'm becoming OK with the confusing pieces. Even if I can't quite figure out how to express it here.

Today Rich and Noah went to see the Union play soccer. I bought Rich the tickets for Father's Day. Rich said Noah was awesome (and yes, we are learning how to redefine awesome!). They went out to dinner after and Noah asked a lot of great questions about our family history and family tree. It's very cool to see him process that Rich and I have parents and grandparents and they had parents, etc. etc. And want to know about them.

That was the awesome! 

And then Noah said this tonight after they got home and I was answering some of those family tree questions.

"Why did Papa make us leave?"

And all I could think was "fuck" and I hedged a bit and said "honey, they didn't make us leave" and Rich said "it was just the right time for us to go."

And Noah said "No, he made us leave, because Derfy scratched me with his claws and I cried."

And again, I'm thinking "fuck"  This boy can't remember what we sent him to the next room to get, but he remembers something that happened over 18 months ago and in vivid detail.

So I told him a shallow layer of the truth. That Mommy and Mama and Papa argued and that because we didn't think we could all be nice to each other right then that Mommy and Daddy thought it was better if we came home.

And Noah said "no, Papa made us leave." 

I tried to explain that no one made us leave, and that I'm so sorry he remembers it like that, and that he saw everyone be mad at each other. But that no one was mad at him, and that Papa did not make us leave.

This poor boy thinks it was his fault. And has had that inside him since it happened.

Rich and I are so very careful not to talk about any of this in front of Noah, even when it was at its worst and most emotional time for me. We only speak positively about my family to him!

Some day Noah is going to want to talk about why my side of the family has nothing but a shadow of a  presence in his life. Right now it's easy to explain that they live far away and it isn't easy to see them. That isn't going to work with him forever.  Someday he is going to understand that my family chose to not try and understand him.

I totally get that Noah's issues are very difficult to understand. Hell, I'm just starting to understand them myself. What I can't understand though is my families near abandonment of Noah and lack of support for me and Rich as we try and figure out how to help Noah. Even after reading this blog! Knowing they read this blog and continue to keep their distance makes it even more hurtful and confusing to me.

Now I need to figure out how to do some damage control to fix 19 months of a little boy thinking he is the reason "we had to leave."

Thoughts?

And still, it is their loss.

I was sorting through some papers today and I came across the letter that my mother wrote in March. You know, the three typewritten pages full of how awful I am and what a shitty mother I am. Yeah, much love. I stupidly read the letter again today, just to see if it was really as awful as I remembered it. And yes, It was.

There has been no real contact since then, except for cards and flowers sent for birthdays, Mothers Day and Fathers Day. Dad got a cactus for Fathers Day. I wonder if he got the significance. Probably not. The cards include art work from the boys.

My mom sent a type written thank you note for the mothers day flowers. A couple weeks ago a box arrived with Noah's name on it and it was full of buckets and other cheap sand toys. They did send some stuff for Easter as well, like a bag of plastic eggs that needed to be filled with candy and some scary ass stuffed animals. They hang out at WalMart a lot it seems, now that one made it to Fowlerville.

So yeah, I read the letter, and I chuckled a bit. I've had time to process the ridiculousness of it. I do a lot of eye rolling when I think of it.

Yes, part of me still wants to respond to their crazy accusations and revisionist history. But, I know there is truly no point. They aren't going to change how they view our relationship.

So what we have here is a non-relationship. I am now the un-daughter and I'm getting more and more comfortable with it.

All my commitments to them were done in June once Fathers Day was over. Now I have no obligations to them until Christmas.

That is a huge relief!

It's a relief not having to make the weekly phone call, or respond to my mothers two sentence emails with the expected paragraphs.

It's a relief not having to try and explain Noah, his latest diagnosis, or treatment, or why he is at summer camp with a TSS.

It's a HUGE relief that we don't have to make the trip to visit them in Michigan, and that I don't have to put up with them in our house if they visit us here.

I'm still sad with the concept of what is going on - that we have no real contact with my family. It's a strange thing for me. But it is also very freeing.

I'm just sad that it seems I'm losing my brother and sister in law in all of this. I saw my sister was online on yahoo mail a couple weeks ago and I tried to talk to her. She answered me and we spoke for about 2 minutes, then she had to leave. I haven't seen her pop up since, so I'm assuming she has blocked me. Not surprising though that they would take the path my parents are on. I've always been the strange older sister to them too.

Time to end the drama...

Finally heard from my parents.

In the form of a three page letter. Snail mail.

Part of me wants to post it here but I'm going to refrain for now. It starts and ends with "we don't want to hurt you, but..." and is all "you are a disrespectful daughter and an ineffective parent that lets her kids run the show" in the middle.

Apparently since college I have frequently spoken rudely to them and am just plain nasty. They are no longer going to tolerate it.

But they do want me to be happy. (yes, they really said that)

So, ummm...yeah, now what...

I'm still processing. Trying to reconcile their obviously negative view of me with how I see myself.

I'm also trying to figure out their revisionist history, which includes my grandmother being my mom's best friend. All I can say to that is "In what universe?"

My therapist has me reading a book called The Borderline Parent, about adult children who had a parent with borderline personality disorder, which she thinks may fit my parents. My homework for her is to write them a letter disputing their letter, or explaining why I feel the way I do, or perhaps both. But not to send it!

I honestly don't believe there is anything I can do that is going to change how they see me or my life. I just need to learn to accept them as the limited emotional people they are and move on. I certainly don't think there will be much/any contact with them in the near future.

Two questions

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Annoyed by my drama yet?

I just received this email from my mother. No greeting, nothing in the subject line, just this. This is the first I have heard from my parents since we left at Christmas.

We are making a list of our house contents and who we want things to go to after we die. Grandma did this, and I think that we all appreciated knowing who she wanted to have her things. Is there anything in the house that you would like your name next to and that you would accept responsibility for the cost of shipping or moving to your home?

First, WTF?

And second, WTF?

And third, who else do I think would pay for it if they are dead??? I wouldn't expect them to pay for it if they were alive??

And fourth, WTF?

I feel like anything I respond with is going to be wrong.

Because I just can't let it go!

For the first time in as long as I can remember, my father didn't not send me flowers for Valentines Day. Not that I really expected he would, but still.

They haven't responded to any of my attempts at contact either, which has included emails, videos of the boys, a thank you note and a phone message. All very non-confrontational, with no mention of our "issues".

They did however send Noah a birthday present and card, and both boys Valentines cards.

But they signed them grandma and grandpa instead of MomMom and PaPa like they have always been called and always signed things in the past. Does this mean anything? Am I just reading in to things?

I'm still at a loss as to what to do, short of calling them and grovelling. Since I don't grovel and I don't think I'm wrong, that won't be happening.

updates

Thanks to everyone for the supportive comments about the situation with my parents. It's so helpful to hear from others.

I'm still not sure how I'm going to handle it long term. For now my therapist has suggested I consider them to be in an extended time out. Considering they haven't even responded to an email telling them Kiel was in the hospital, I think that's more than warranted for now.

--------------------

On the illness front I spent Friday either hanging my head over the toilet or curled up in bed. The nausea only lasted about 12 hours fortunately. I spent another 36 hours in bed fighting a fever and massive headache. I'm feeling much better now though.

Kiel has diarrhea again. And a rash on his face and trunk. I'm pretty confident the rash is a viral rash and hope it is just the final remnant of his stomach virus. If it's not better tomorrow I'll take him to the pediatrician Tuesday. He seems to be feeling fine and is eating and drinking.

Right now he and Noah are chasing each other around the family room laughing and screaming. It still amazes me how much Noah likes playing with him. And how for the most part he's very good with Kiel. We've come a long way since the summer.

The big breakup

**It's taken me close to a month to write this, for many reasons, but I want to finally get it out there**

I'm going to attempt to write this without getting too emotional and all "my parents suck...wah wah wah."

First I should say over all we had an awesome holiday. Christmas morning was so much fun with both boys. Just like I dreamed it would be! They loved everything. Noah was so excited and had as much fun with Kiel's gifts as his own. Kiel was just the happy baby he always is and played with everything. If I can find my camera soon I'll get some pictures up.

So, now for the heavy stuff.

We did indeed go visit my parents in Michigan. Rich really thought we should, and after the talk with my mom I was somewhat optimistic. We all agreed we needed to sit down after the boys were in bed one night and talk about how everyone was feeling.

We drove out there on the 27th. All day the 26th I had this feeling of dread and kept putting off packing and getting ready. But I gave myself a pep talk and by the next morning I was feeling optimistic and even a little excited.

Our drive out was pretty uneventful except for Noah getting a fever and Rich starting to feel sick about half way there. Noah's fever made him pretty low key for the drive though, and he wasn't feeling miserable, just tired and lethargic. He was actually really pleasant to be with. LOL I drove about half the way which is more than I usually do. We made it in 9 1/2 hours which is the best time we've ever made. Usually it is closer to 12 hours.

Rich and Noah were both sick for most of the visit. Rich with a bad cold and Noah with a fever. Noah's fever improved with acetaminophen and he felt pretty good during the day. It came back in the evening though. Which unfortunately was when my brother and his family were around or when my Dad was around the most.

For the most part Noah's behavior was pretty good. He had a few times where he acted like a brat. Mostly in the evening, and always when he had a fever. One time was kind of awful, as my brother and his family were there and we were exchanging Christmas presents. I just ignored Noah, then finally took him upstairs and got him changed in to his pajamas and calmed down. His behavior did suck, but in all fairness to him, he had a fever and we had made him wait for dinner for well over an hour past his usual time, then everyone took forever to eat and made him wait what seemed like an eternity to him I'm sure, until we opened presents.

I spent some time earlier that day talking with my sister in law about what was going on with Noah. I could tell she just didn't get it. She said very little when I talked about the PDD. I was telling her about how hard it was at soccer sometimes with the other parents and how they reacted to him. Her response was something along the lines of "well, every parent feels like they are being looked at."

So, fast forward to the evening of the third day we were there. Rich wanted to take Noah and two of my nephews to the movies. I asked my mom if she would watch Kiel so I could go to the movies too. She said yes, only somewhat reluctantly.

So we went to the movies and had a good time. We came back about 6:30pm and I went in the house first because I was anxious to see Kiel. My mom made a big deal about him napping in her arms for 2 hours and 40 minutes. Then she made some comment about me still sleeping with Kiel when he was in his marriage bed.

Noah and Rich came inside and my parents dog, a yappy, jumpy little Lhasa Apso named Derf started jumping up on Noah and kept saying "no" and pushing him away. Derf wouldn't stop and he eventually scratched Noah on the chest and Noah started crying.

My Dad blew a gasket and yelled at Noah and said "enough! get that boy out of here."

Rich and I were stunned. And then I was pissed.

I went over to my Dad, who turned to walk away from me. I grabbed his arm to turn him around and told him that it was not OK for him to yell at my children.

My Mom came over to me and started to yell about me respecting my dad.

Then my Dad went around and started taking down the baby gates and made a comment along the lines about it not being their responsibility to watch my children.

Rich and I just looked at each other and went upstairs and started packing. When we came downstairs with the first load I heard my mom say "here come the suitcases and tears."

My parents just sat in their chairs looking at the TV while we packed up the car. Then my mom said she wanted to say something to me. So I turned to look at her and she told me that "Noah would be a delightful child if you disciplined him" and some other comments along those lines.

The whole thing was just unreal. It blows my mind that my mother would think it was OK for my dad to yell at Noah because he was crying. And when I tried to call her on that all she would say was she loved her husband and she supported him. Clearly they have issues with me and with Noah and it all came out there.

I think they were relieved that we were leaving. Once we got a few hours away from them I know Rich and I were.

So we haven't heard from them since other than them sending us a suitcase that we forgot. I called to thank them for sending it to us and left a message as no one answered. I've sent them a couple emails but have not heard back from them on those either.

So there you have it. I think my parents and I broke up.

I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about it. I feel a little like an orphan actually. That and I'm incredible disappointed in them.

I don't see how we can visit them again. And I certainly don't want them to visit us. I can't purposely put my kids in that kind of situation.

And that my friends, is why I need therapy.

Why I love my therapist

She said my mother is psycho,

and called my dad a doofus.

She said some other great stuff tonight too, but those two things made me smile.

Another rant on the 'rents

My mother wrote me a long email last week. It was full of statements like "We have known for a long time that you don't like us." (huh?) and "We hardly heard from you from the time of our visit in February to your visit in August. I used to joke about the T.V. commercial about the mother passing out when her son or daughter called on Mother's Day, saying that I would probably do the same." (OMG, is she Jewish?) and "I sent you emails every week trying to be upbeat but never got responses"(do I need to send them copies of all the emails I sent them) and "We have missed seeing the boys grow but it seemed like the best choice" (best choice???) and "You seem to think that we ignored Noah. It probably seemed that way, but whenever we talk to him you take offence with what we say." (huh?)

And then there was some stuff about me being jealous of my brother and how I need to get over it. And then this bit,

"We happen to be your parents. None of us get to hand select who will be our parents. If we did such a lousy job, move on with your life and make it what you want of it. The past does NOT have to influence your future. Your future is what YOU make of it!!!"

I don't even know what to say to that! It didn't even fit in with the rest of the letter!

It's pretty clear they have had issues with me for quite a while, years even. How sad that it has come to this. I really don't understand why if they have been feeling this way for so long they would wait this long to let it out.

So I replied, very respectfully I might add, to their email with an almost point per point response. I let it sit for a few days, had Rich read it with me, read it probably twenty times myself, and finally tonight I sent it. I have no real idea of what to expect.

I'm not going to sit back and let them shit all over me, but I'm also not trying to bring up any new issues. So much of what she wrote just seemed over the top. Like she's spent way to much time stewing and letting things get bigger and bigger inside her head.

Interesting is that a couple years ago, around the time it seems, according to her email, that the issues started, she stopped taking her antidepressant medication. Coincidence?? Hmmm..

Kind of funny though, is that in this email and one she sent two weeks ago to Rich, she talks about us being their for Christmas. I'm not even sure how to answer that one nicely, so I didn't.

Someone please keep reminding me that I'm 40 and not 14, OK??

Still tired

Am still tired. Very, very tired.

And just got an email from my mother. She's unbelievable. Parts of it are so ridiculous that I can't even respond. Am coming to realize that all this shit started around the time she stopped taking her antidepressant medication a couple years ago. Oh the joy of having a crazy family.

So in lieu of a real post, here are some more pictures.

Now I'm going to go crawl in bed with the second Twilight book and pretend none of this is happening.

Update on the 'rents...and they can STILL #suckit

So, I finally received an email from my parents.

They will not be coming to Kiel's birthday party. They say they are not punishing the boys, but they do not feel I treat them with respect and will not put themselves in that situation anymore.

I am officially twelve years old again.

Why do I even care?

Update on the 'rents - they can #suckit

So I think I may have been disowned but no one told me.

I still haven't heard from my parents.

Several weeks ago I sent them the link to the pictures we had taken at JC Penney's. I never heard from them.

I sent them each an e-vite to Kiel's birthday party, and I know they opened it because it tells me it was viewed. Neither of them responded.

Last week I priority mailed them pictures of the boys and a CD with pictures and video. In it I included a note and specifically asked if they were coming for Kiel's birthday. The USPS tracking said it was delivered on Saturday. Still not a word from them.

I don't want to be, but I'm really upset. I can't believe they don't have the decency to respond. Not to mention it's their grandchildren they are ignoring.

Clearly they think I've done something awful. Calling them on their lack of attention to my children, and disagreeing with them on how to raise Noah, not to mention expressing my pain at never feeling like I was good enough for my dad, must be some pretty bad shit.

So I'm at a loss. Rich says I should just call them, and I suppose I should, but I'm being stubborn. I've made the first step, and the second, and the third.

The longer this goes on the harder it is going to be to get over it.

They suck...

The P.U. chronicles

Figure I'd update you on the parental unit drama.

I have not heard from my parents since the end of August. The last time I spoke with them was to let them know we arrived home OK.

Last week I sent them the link to the pictures we had taken of the boys. I figured that was a non confrontational way to make first contact.

It's been a week. And nothing! Nada!

I'm not sure if I'm more hurt or more angry.

It will be very interesting to see if they come for Kiels birthday, which is in just over a month. Shit, at this point it will be interesting to see if I even hear from them.

part 5 - a little about growing up

I almost feel like I need to defend my mother now. Ughh...

I really appreciate everyone's support about all of this. It's nice to know I'm not alone.

My parents aren't horrible people, and I certainly didn't have a horrible childhood. My dad was probably pretty typical from that era. He worked, came home, my mom waited on him, he watched TV, read the paper, etc. She took care of us kids.

I really don't remember ever sitting in my dad's lap, or snuggling with him. He never read to us or tucked us in at night.

Mostly I remember the times he gave me "advice."

I don't ever recall him telling us he loved us without one of us saying it first. I do know he does love us. I just never really felt I lived up to his expectations. I still don't.

My mother on the other hand was more affectionate and loving when we were younger. She went through several years of depression when I was in my teens. At that time in our life I felt more like I was the mother taking care of her, than her taking care of me. It had an impact on our relationship that she would never acknowledge.

She's not a bad person though. And her comment about leashing Noah sounds so much worse than I think she ever intended. That's not usually the way she comes across. For god sakes, she taught special ed classes for 1st, 2nd and 3rd grades for almost 30 years. It's not like Noah is an unknown entity to her. I think that's why I'm having such a hard time understanding the way she is treating him.

Oh well...I'm off to my therapy appointment. Thank god for my therapist. She is amazing and is really helping me work though a lot of this crap.

Part 4 - I forgot this little gem

We've had some problems recently with Noah running away from us when he doesn't want to go inside, or leave somewhere.

We went to Binder Park Zoo in Battle Creek when we were in Michigan and at one point Noah ran ahead of Rich down a path. I think Noah was feeling anxious (something I need to discuss in another post) and also needed to deal with some pent up energy. It's not ok that he does this, but I'm not sure he can control himself either.

Anyway...I mentioned this to my mother on our visit.

Her response - put a leash on him. Maybe if you humiliate him he'll learn his lesson.

There are so many shades of wrong in this I don't know where to begin.

*sigh*

Part 3 - my parents are on probation

Oh boy, it's been a crazy week.

Noah is rocking kindergarten, btw! Go Noah!

Work is crazy and I only had a day and a half in the office because Kiel is sick and I had to pick him up early on Thursday.

Wednesday was back to school night, which we didn't find out about until Tuesday night. So a bit of a scramble to get a baby sitter for Kiel. Noah had soccer practice, so Rich took him to that and I went to back to school night. Then raced from there to visit my therapist.

Which brings us back to the topic of the week, which was also the topic of my therapy appointment. My uber-disappointing parents.

I've had a little over a week now to think through all that happened on our visit.

Oh, I never told you guys the rest of the story. Silly me.

The evening after I wrote the post (Tuesday) about Granny vs. Grandma we were sitting around the campfire at my parent's little "retreat." Noah had been having a pretty good day, some moments of course, but come on, he's five. It came time for Noah to take one of his medications which gets mixed in some juice. Unfortunately we forgot to take the juice that he likes, so it was mixed in with some that he doesn't care for. The night before we struggled a bit to get him to take it, but he finally did.

It's not unusual for Noah to throw a small tantrum when he doesn't like something, but he usually gets himself back under control and then handles what ever it is. That evening he threw his little fit about the juice and Rich dealt with him, like we usually do, and in the way we know that will deescalate things, especially since we were "in public."

Well, my Dad had to throw in his 27 cents worth, and made it clear that he didn't agree with how we were handling things. And then Noah stuck his tongue out at us, which we just ignore. My mother literally gasped when he did that. Apparently tongue stuckage is a major offence in her book.

I wish I could remember exactly what my dad said to me, but the gist was that we weren't tough enough on Noah, and he needed a stronger hand and higher fences.

I pretty much lost it and told him he had no clue what we dealt with every day and what we were doing to try and help Noah. And how dare he question my parenting skills. Then I told him if he thought he could do better he should spend a week with Noah and prove it. His response was something about one of them not making it out alive by the end of the week. And then he stormed off.

My mother just sat there and said nothing. So I asked her if she thought we were at fault for Noah's behavior too. She refused to answer. So then I broke down and told her how hurt I was that they hadn't had any contact with the boys since November and that they had no idea what we were dealing with. And how I was tired of always disappointing them. And something about my Dad being cold and at least my kids would know that they were loved.
There was more, oh so much more, but I'm not going to bore you with it all.

I probably went a little too far, but at the same time, I didn't even come close to saying what I really wanted to say.

I spent the rest of the night in the trailer and didn't see my dad again until the next morning. Nothing more was said about it by either of them.

Rich and I decided that evening that we would leave Thursday morning to come back home. We were headed back to my parents house that morning (Wednesday) and had plans to see some family friends that afternoon.

We left the next morning. My parents never questioned our leaving early. I think they were very relieved to see us go frankly. Other than the obligatory call to them to let them know we arrived home safely, there has been no contact. Not even for our anniversary, which was this past Tuesday.

Clearly I am on the shit list. They have an amazing ability to always turn it around to be my fault.

Hmmm...my thoughts so far? Fuck them! I'm not going to accept responsibility for this.

As far as I'm concerned they are now on probation. They are going to have to prove themselves as grandparents. No longer will I set myself and my boys up for disappointment.

The big question though...Do I tell them they are on probation? Or do I just have no contact with them.

I'm so sad and hurt by all of this.

Part 2 - grandparent lessons anyone?

Growing up I had two grandmothers; Grandma, my mother’s mother, who I have written about before (here and here) and Granny, my father’s mother. Now Granny, despite the name connoting someone warm and cuddly and a lover of children was anything but with my brother and me. We probably saw her once a year or so when we were younger, then as we were in our teens less often. She died when I was a sophomore in college.

During my childhood she did not live near us. We were in England until I was two, and then in Michigan. She lived in Texas and then California.

I know some of the emotional distance had to do with my father. Apparently at some point she told her sister that my father was cold. Her sister came for a visit once and some how that was brought up and my father was pissed and hurt that his mother said that. They didn’t speak for a while, and certainly didn’t visit.

My mother never had good things to say about Granny. They considered her selfish, irresponsible with money, and basically an all around bitch.

My Grandma on the other hand lived very close to us from the time I was five. When I was three she and my grandfather and my parents bought a farm together (160 acres) in south-central Michigan. We lived in the original farmhouse and my grandparents built a house for themselves farther back in the property. Not right next door in city thinking, but definitely so in farm thought. It was a little more than a quarter mile walk back to them.

I have such good memories of times spent with my grandparents. I remember her telling me stories at bedtime about “the lost girls.” I remember oatmeal for breakfast, with brown sugar and raisins. My grandfather called it “glue.” I remember my grandfather taking me to Greenfield Village in Dearborn, MI. And my grandmother taking my cousin and me to Europe when we were 16. There was time spent cooking with my grandmother and working in the garage workroom with my grandfather. Spending the night with them often. And many, many more memories.

I see my parents being at a bit of a crossroads right now. Are they going to be “grannies” or “grandmas?”

It’s become amazingly clear during this visit that my parents don’t enjoy playing with my kids. They also don’t seem all that interested in making any memories with them.

The other day I asked mom if she would like to get Kiel dressed. Her response? Uh, no, I think I’ll let you do that.

Taking the boys for a walk last night I asked them to come. Their response, a resounding no thanks, we’ll go later. When I commented that I thought they would like to spend time with their grandchildren my mom said “we spend plenty of time with them.”

Go to the zoo with us? NO.
Go to Huckleberry Railroad with us? NO.

Walk down to the beach and playground with us? Noah wants you to see him swing on the rings. NO.

And not once an offer to take them for an hour and give us a break.

When I asked if they would watch them the other evening so we could go out to dinner with my brother and my sister-in-law, my mom’s response was “well, the boys will be tired after a long day, they will just want you, not us.”

Queen of passive aggression is she.

So the question is do I keep trying to make memories for my kids with them? Because not only is it their loss, it’s my children’s loss too.

Visiting my parents is not enjoyable for Rich and me. It’s a long ass drive to start with. Noah never sleeps well if we aren’t at home. Rich ends up sleeping in my brother’s old room with Noah and I sleep in my old room with Kiel. Rich and I don’t ever get to sleep together. Believe me, there is no nookie in my old bed. By the time we go home we are exhausted from lack of sleep and frustrated from trying to keep Noah on his best behavior so my parents don’t give us “the look” or offer us their “parenting wisdom.”

I’m thinking of firing them for a while. Oh, wise internet friends, what do you think?

Part 1 - an hour away

We’re about an hour away from my parent’s house; eleven hours into our twelve hour drive. So far my eyebrows are intact. Can’t say I have high hopes they will stay that way once we get there though. Please let there be alcohol waiting for me.

I’ve realized over the last day or so that I’m really fucking pissed at my parents that they have gone more than six months without seeing the boys. WTF? Kiel wasn’t even three months old the last time they saw him, now he’s nine months and almost walking! Noah is starting kindergarten in a little over a week. They know nothing about his excitement. How dare they ignore my children like that!?!

My therapist (duh, like you didn’t know I had one) has tried to prepare me for this trip. She has tried to help me lower my expectations; to accept the “good enough.” To turn off the fantasy in my head of how I want my parents to behave.

It’s going to be hard. I’m not very good at keeping my emotions to myself. I want to tell them that I am hurt. Yet I know it will not do me any good. They will have excuses. Or they will turn it around to be my fault. That I was bitchy to them. That they thought I was mad at them. That I didn’t invite them to visit.

I know it is their loss. It really is. I have some fucking awesome kids!

But I still can’t stop wishing they would become the grandparents I want them to be. Perhaps just a new version of wishing they would be the parents to me I always dreamed of?