I Write These Free-Thought Posts, and Then Have Absolutely NO IDEA How to Categorize Them.

I'm not so cranky today!

The kids have worked through their illness, although it took a while. So I made the right choice by not dragging them to the doctor. They are much more cheerful the last few days. My dad has improved greatly. I think my "quit-being-a-bully-and-cooperate" quarterly lecture that I gave him the same day I bitched about him here helped a lot. Oh, and the bitching about him here helped as well. People need to vent. Its the law.

I thought the in-laws might've enjoyed that last post. I want it to be known that I'm an equal opportunity offender. The difference is that my dad would read that post (or hell, he'd never read it...but he'd hear about it) and just laugh. "So I'm a selfish bastard?" he'd mock whine, "Aaaaawww! Naim! Aaron! Your mama's mad at me!" and then he'd just laugh about it and we'd have words and go on and its over. And to his credit, his behavior does change (eventually) when something is pointed out to him...albeit sometimes by "pointed out" I really mean "drilled into his head."

D and I sometimes joke around with a game we call, "Whose family is the weirdest/most cuckoo-bananas/most annoying/most out of line?" We try to one-up each other with funny/frustrating/horrifying family stories. And he always wins. Well, no. My family can win for weirdest and most annoying at times, and cuckoo-bananas is about a draw. But most out of line? He always wins that one. All he has to say is, "yeah, you're dad is a completely petty, grumpy oaf...but at least he's here." And he's won.

And I have to give my dad (and my whole family) a bit of props for this. For years, it did seem like D's family was so wonderful and so much more amazing than mine because they were so polite and it was so Norman Rockwell at times. But over the years, and especially since the whole pregnancy catastrophe, the reality of the situation really became a lot more clear to me. D's family is more pretty wrapping paper, whereas mine is sometimes a clumsy and awkward gorilla at a tea party. But mine are real and self-aware and honest and you always know where you stand. You can ask for something, or negotiate something and always know that if it is agreed to, it will be taken care of and efficiently and on-time. And if it's not, it's not and their are other ways to get the job done. There is no passive aggression. Saying all is well when it isn't. They aren't going to lie to you to your face and then go talk behind your back. They may talk about you a bit, I suppose, but its nothing they haven't already said to you. And give you an opportunity to work it out. And they stick with it, even if things do get hard. There is nothing shittier than someone letting you go on for years thinking things are fine and then dropping a bomb on you when you are at your most vulnerable that they've really had a problem with something about you for like, years. And then when you try to adjust to their newfound anger towards you they just say, that's it and never speak to you again as if you are the drunk uncle who molests all the little boy cousins or something. That's fucked up. And say what you will about my family, they would NEVER pull that. And that's the problem that D still lives with, If they could dump me so quickly for not towing the family line like they wanted, how many steps further could he go before they dump him. I get irritated at him for his outspokenness about it to me vs. his passiveness about it to them, but then he's seen other family members (not just me) get chucked from the inner circle and get put on the family shitlist. That kind of threat isn't something I've ever had to seriously deal with in my family, so it is a bit hard for me to understand sometimes.

Any little problem about coffee cups or even big stuff about this house or the kids or whatever, I can express my opinion about and not have to worry about repercussions. Of course, many times my dad and other family members don't agree with me, but my opinion is heard. It is allowed. And it is also expected that I will take their opinions and allow them as well. I don't have to act any certain way. I know there are ways they would prefer me to act, but it isn't like they are never going to speak to me or my children again if I don't follow their rules. We argue, and my dad is still here. My sister and I argue, and she is still here. Only when someone stays engaged with you and at least half-way attempts to hear your side can you ever work through differences or misunderstandings or whatever and build a deeper relationship. D faces (either real or imagined--we're not sure) emotional and financial and supportive blackmail that is hard for me to wrap my head around. To go years being hurt by your family due to their refusal to even acknowledge not only the problem issues but also the most important people in the world to you is something I've never had to deal with. I mean, my mom and I used to fight about who I dated or something, and then a year later, she'd be their buddy.

I think it is about change. My family has always been able to adapt to change fairly efficiently and to grow. D's family sometimes just seems so stiflingly stuck. Anyway, I guess my point is that I'm lucky that most of the time, all we are arguing about is coffee cups and flat-screen TVs, instead of NOT being permitted to argue about the excommunication of your own partner and your own children.

It is not so bad on this side of the fence. Definitely needs work at times, definitely annoying as hell--I mean, how my family equates money with morality is screwball, but yet that is 2/3rds of American society that does that. Perhaps deal-withable in the grand scheme.

So, all that is to say, I have not been yelled at about stupid stuff in the last several days. My dad has offered to assist me in painting the kid's room, he has taken the kids to the park a few times to get them out of my hair, I actually saw him reading Naim a book, and he even 'watched" the kids for D and I the other night so we could go out. (Watched is in quotes because the kids were already in bed when I left.)

In other news, the kids and I have been trying to get out and do more things in the community this summer. They are getting to a point in their energy and interest level that I have to get them out of the house every day or they'll drive me into a corner where my only survival technique is to rock back and forth in a fetal position while banging my head against a hard surface. So, I wrack my brain to find things that we can get to on our own with other kids and that I can participate in with them without any help and that are free or near-free.

We went to a farmers market last weekend and to a new playground (with SWINGS!!! Which is big in Aaron's book). The farmer's market was kind of funny because the vendors gave us SO MUCH free stuff that they almost really made my job impossible trying to juggle it all. I don't know if this happens to all kids, but when I've gone to farmer's markets on my own, I never get anything but maybe a few free samples on a toothpick. People gave my kids big cups of lemonade and tortilla chips and whole peaches and flowers and stickers and apples and berries and all kinds of stuff. We even got some free dog treats because they got all excited about a dachshund (like our 'guest dog,' Abbey) at a booth that makes organic dog food. (Then I had to explain to them that the pretty little cookies were not for us to eat, they were to take home to Abbey. That kind of blew their mind that they couldn't have something of Abbey's. Usually, we are telling Abbey that she can't have their food.) Anyway, it was a fun day. I wish I had been able to haul more produce home, because it was good and cheap.

Last Tuesday we went to a program that the kid's Healthy Start teacher told me about. It was at a park next to the library. They had bubbles and crafts and games and stuff for the kids. Then they had free lunch. It took me a while to realize that this was a low income/sort of food kitchen program created by the county or some such social services. One of the reasons I didn't notice was that they did the program in such a respectful way. If you've ever experienced the need to get social services for your basic needs, you have probably experienced the cattle call for you to show up by this time at this place with this proof of your lousy income in triplicate and with at least two starving, sick kids to accompany you just to make it all look kosher. This was not like that at all. It was a drop in program. All I had to do was tell them my name and my kid's names and who referred us, no other questions at all. The staff was bright and welcoming and engaged. The kids played with big, huge bubbles and did some sparkly crafty type thing and played with hula hoops and balls and stuff. I think we were one of the few white families there. It was probably two-thirds Hispanic, another 1/6th Asian families and then whoever else. So the kids got to play with other kids who spoke different languages and that is always good.

As a total tangent, here is just an unnecessary observation: When I think back to my upbringing in the Midwest and not seeing a person of color really in real life until the SECOND grade (at which time, I handled it very ignorantly), I think it is pretty cool that my kids are around minorities so regularly that they have not--and probably never will--bat an eyelash at a person who looks different from them due to race. (Or disability for that matter. They don't do the usual kid stare at people in wheelchairs, of course.) This is not to say that at some point later on they won't notice the differences in the way people of color are treated and ask hard questions about that, but they are totally comfortable with the kids in our neighborhood and community that speak different languages and have different colored skin and whatnot. It is not unusual for us to be in the minority as a white family at the playground or at a community event. And this makes me very glad that I have this advantage here as opposed to living in the Midwest where it would be a lot harder to meet kids from a variety of different races and backgrounds.

Okay, so back to this safe-net program. The kids had fun, and then at noon, they just started setting up these picnic tables and food and a line formed. At that point, I didn't even know there was lunch in this program. So, a staff member invites me over to it and I'm like, okay, sure. They hand me a brown bag and a milk for each kid, and I sit down with them at a picnic table with a bunch of other moms, dads and kids and they start to eat.

So, I thought Naim was pretty much over his illness because he had been okay. And actually, I think he hadn't been eating well because he had been sick and he felt so much better that he was really hungry. So he scarfs down PBJ and some carrots and milk and what have you. And then, he BARFS IT UP all over everything. So, by the time I had finished cleaning him up, most people were gone. This staff member comes over and she brings me like, bags and bags of food. She sits down, and she was really nice, and she tells me quietly that when kids go hungry they will eat too fast and throw up, and then there went your food. And she gives me this advice to just give him one bite at a time when he hasn't eaten for a while.

Okay, so I'm slow, but then it hits me. I'm in an outdoor soup kitchen. I look around me and some people are hanging out and waiting for the staff to give them leftover apples, sandwiches, whatever. I start to see that some of these people are pretty desperate for food. And I'm really sad for them. And my kid just ate a lunch and then barfed it up and she thinks it is because he is starving.

So, some people would get really embarrassed here, I know. But I just decided I'm not going to get embarrassed because I truly believe there is no shame in being poor and needing a service like this. But I do feel bad for taking two lunches that could have belonged to someone else. Aaron ate his and Naim barfed his. I did not take one for myself. But I told the woman that I didn't need the food and I think we are OK and that Naim had been sick. She was very nice and insisted that I at least take a bit of it in case Naim was hungry later. She also said that if it was just a place for the kids to go to play with some toys I didn't have at home that I needed, to feel free to keep coming back. She isn't here to police how much my kids have eaten the night before and I am welcome to have lunch here.

So, it was all nice and good. And I appreciate it immensely when social services people just treat you with respect and don't act like assholes. And they totally did at this program. And I think that I will come back, but I think that I will pack my kids an identical lunch as the one they provide. That way, I won't be taking food I don't need, but I won't look like I'm trying to be too good to eat their food or something. Besides the barfing, that was a pretty good day. We even stopped at the library afterwords and checked out some books they picked out.

Today we went with D and my dad to a little downtown event with firetrucks and booths and concerts and all that kind of stuff. It is really hard for me to juggle all that needs to be juggled to have the kids participate in every little thing they have for kids to do. Besides the fact that in a loud, crowded place, Naim gets all shy and doesn't want to do anything.

But the two big hits were a train table, of course--and then the firetruck. MY GOSH were they totally in awe of that firetruck. Naim was too shy to get in it, but Aaron climbed right aboard and sat down as if he owned the rig and was fully expecting to drive it off. I couldn't get him out of it. And then! Just when it looked like things couldn't get any better! He got a badge!Which was also a sticker! Which was also a firefighter badge! And the sun and the moon and the stars aligned and all was right in Aaron's world if he could just sit in that firetruck and admire his shiny firefighter badge. I could have left him there, went and sat down and listened to a concert and had a few beers, and came back two hours later and he would not have moved out of the seat in that truck.

That's what's keeping me busy. This week, it will be painting and carpet steaming. And I think also a trip to the coast with my dad for our traditional trip for the fourth (wow! seriously?) anniversary of my mother's death.

Abbey is a nice little dog (who needs LOTS of supervision), but sometimes I just look at her and it seems totally incongruent in my head that she is still here and my mom is still gone. My kids know and mostly love this little dog that my mom knew and loved, yet they will never meet each other. Abbey is like this weird bridge in my head between my mom and my kids.

Comments

[Angela]

I like it a lot better when people are upfront too.
If I don't get my son out of the house at least once a day he won't let me rest for a second.

[cherylc]

Wow, so much in this post. I get the weird bridge thing. I drive my mother's car, for one thing. It's been a long time for us, 9 years, but it's still weird. In my case it's more of a things outlast people disconnect. It's disorienting. How can her car still be here?

I'm sorry you lost her so young.

[luolin]

I love your "free-thought" posts. And the story about the fire truck reminds me of a kindergarten trauma--we moved and I missed my old school's field trip to the fire station. Now my brother's a firefighter, but I'm too old to really appreciate the extended tours of the firehouse and trucks.

[emil]

Your safe-net program sounds a lot like a program we have here in the Midwest ;) Just a suggestion -- when you go back don't take a lunch but do eat the lunches provided or at least let the kids eat. We make a point of feeding whoever comes and and it sounds like they do too. I'm sure they really don't care if you "qualify" or not. If you feel bad about it, ask if there's a group you can make a donation to or a place you can volunteer to help make lunches or whatever. This sounds like a group that got your "disability days" message. ;)