SSDD

Things have been quite hectic lately. I've decided on a major, been going to college, and work has been gratuitously busy (as it always is during the last few months of the year). Honestly, I have no complaints, other than the lack of free time for personal endeavors, but I know it'll be worth it in the long run. I've already excitedly searched for companies in areas I'd like to move to, once I've established myself in my field of choice. I get ahead of myself, but sometimes the promise of the future can be a beautiful and exciting thing. I look forward to all the opportunities I've denied myself in the past. Home life has been good, but we haven't hit the holiday/birthday marathons just yet, so that may be subject to change in the next two months...Some people have luck with in-laws and some don't. The way the cookie crumbles, I suppose. Yes, this entry is short and lame, without anything going for it, but frankly when things are the same cardboard cutout every day and nothing is rocking the boat, there isn't much to report.

Them's the Breaks

I stumbled out of bed, crossed my fingers and stepped onto the scale. For once, it didn't completely disappoint me. I've finally lost 24 pounds in my journey to better myself and my health. I have quite a bit to go, but you have to start somewhere, and my results haven't happened randomly or magically.

It set the mood for the day.

---

Renee recently turned 18, so in celebration Devon, Lawrence, Renee and I decided to go out for a day of fun. We decided on a well-known children's museum that none of us had been to. She had to laugh at the irony of celebrating her birthday that marked stepping into adulthood being spent somewhere made for children.

We had a nice time and caught up as summer has been hectic and I haven't seen her as much as I would like. Her job search has been (unsurprisingly) not going well, as she has no vehicle and her father lives in a town of less than 300 people. I did find out that Mother has been constantly calling and texting her all hours of the day and night. She has repeatedly asked Renee to move back in with her, which Renee has (thankfully) refused to do, adamantly.

I think Mother has finally realized the gravity of her situation -- she is married to a man that she does not love (and that does not love her), she is jobless, practically penniless, and has burned any bridges with family members that would be able or willing to help her get out of her situation.

I am sad -- she is my Mother too, after all -- but I will not allow her to take from me any more than she already has. I have worked hard to get where I am and will not risk losing it to help someone as manipulative and ungrateful as her.

Ignoring the Seed

I have been a busy gal lately. Between work, personal craft projects, getting college set up and my diet/ exercise plan, I've had a hard time catching a moment for myself.

Last week while lying awake in bed, I wondered aloud in the dark to Lawrence about various things I'm worrying about or just thinking about in general. The topic of all of the pies I have my thumb in came up and I heard him sigh. Confused, I turned toward him and asked what was on his mind.

"I'm afraid you're going to burn yourself out. You're already so busy at work, taking on twice the responsibilities you did last year, plus now exercising and school. Something is going to suffer because of it."

I was taken aback, surprised he felt that way. I suppose it certainly made sense, but I'd not really thought about it before. I exercise on my lunch and would have my evenings and weekends free for coursework, so everything would fit into a day just fine. Sure, I'll be more than ready for Christmas break, but I thought I was improving a lot of things for the positive - getting healthy and in shape, earning a degree - I was focused on where they would get me in the future, but not what it may cost me now.

On the bright side, being enrolled in school has awakened something in him I've never seen before - some sort of hope for both he and I to improve ourselves. (We are both college drop-outs, due to some financial issues). Seeing me get back into it has made him entertain an idea he has always shot down before: for him to go back to college as well, after his school loans are paid off.

Some days I think he is more excited and proud than I for my latest pursuit, but I love seeing his face light up when the topic comes up, or how he can't wait to share the news with people. He's almost like a little kid.

In his roundabout way, he has both inspired me and planted a small seed of doubt. I am getting nervous as the days on the calendar tick off, one by one. To fight the nerves, I am focusing on making it look easy. If I can prove to him I can do it, maybe it will inspire him to stick with the idea of returning himself, when the time comes.

You're Only Hurting Yourself

Growing up, I was the child everyone wanted their kid to be: straight A's, well behaved, in before dark and didn't sass back. Under a strict parentage I minded my manners, and respected my elders.

I have been able to grow a bit since being on my own, but like to think my basic roots are still there.

Lawrence's mother doesn't feel this way. And she lets me know every time we are over for holidays, birthdays, what-have-yous. Her friendly elbow in the rib reminder? The coldest of cold shoulders. I am not spoken to, looked at, or in any way is my existence acknowledged. (Frankly, I'm surprised I got a gift card at Christmas). His sister used to be as bad, but has eased up, at least when MIL is out of the room. It makes life a bit easier, so hopefully this trend of her being decent and civil continues. (We used to be friends before the "event", which makes me even more sad since it's a small victory when she says anything to me at all.)

I should back up to explain the "event" and why things have progressed this way. 

Lawrence and I are very shy, introverted people. We avoid attention like the plague and only go out for work, supplies and the rare movie or social date with our small group of friends. When we got engaged in late 2010, it wasn't even a question to us how big the wedding would be. We shared our exciting news with family and friends, but were upfront that the actual wedding would be us, an officiant and a photographer. There would be no wedding party, there would be no reception, there would be no chairs or guests. It was a private moment we wanted to share with each other, without the nervousness of eyes watching us.

Everyone wished us the best - except his mother and sister. I offered to involve them in the few items I would actually spend time on towards the wedding (dress shopping, designing the bouquet), but it only seemed to fan the fire. It quickly became clear that unless we had a large wedding and they were invited it wouldn't be good enough.

We still did it our way. (And I'm proud of that).

Since then, the situation has been worse, turning into the aforementioned cold shoulders. It has been going on for almost two years. The strain it puts on my relationship with Lawrence has become undeniable. The bitterness has grown, the resentment mounting, I cringe at the thought of any holiday or get-together because one person can't let go of their anger over us making a very personal decision.

Some days I feel at a crossroads. Lawrence refuses to sets boundaries with his mother, stating I should treat her the same and go on with things. In an ideal world, I would be able to, but I am not that kind of person and refuse to think I should have to stoop to her level. I want to not dread family gatherings, but until Lawrence sees he is placing his mother ahead of his wife, I don't anticipate things having the slightest chance of changing for the better.

I wonder if she will ever realize she is only hurting herself in the long run. She can be hateful and unkind, but it will impact her relationships with Lawrence, me, and any potential future children we may have. Her actions may only hurt my feelings, but her anger will eventually alienate her from part of the family she may one day want to have a relationship with.

Adventures in Registration

College has been difficult.

Wait, wait, let me rephrase that. Applying and registration has been difficult. Far more so than should be.

I started things back in May, with an application to a school I know I'd be accepted to. It's the cheapest around, with a solid history and a lot of people use it to achieve an associates before moving onto more expensive bachelor degrees elsewhere.

Unfortunately, a lack of correspondence and assistance on their end tied up the application process and resulted in a 2 month long fight to simply have my application processed and get my foot in the door.

Two weeks later and three visits to the campus, all I've accomplished is confirming that my loans are ready. I still haven't been able to get an academic advisor's signature, nor registration, my books, or my college ID/payment card.

I hope classes are not nearly as difficult, and the professors more responsive. I hope it's going to be worth it.

The Return

Stress has been the name of the game lately. My personality as a "people pleaser", mixed with a large flexibility in my scope of responsibilities, and a handful of my love of learning new things, have landed me in some odd and awkward set of tasks recently. I enjoy being involved in new projects and not knowing what my day at work holds. Some days it makes me question which avenue I want to pursue in furthering my career.

But I'm excited and proud. I'm going back to school either way. I'm going to finally finish what I could not afford before. (Still can't now, but I'm in a better position to pay back on those loans!) I've always loved learning new things, accomplishing goals and emerging triumphant from puzzling challenges.

Change is coming. And I'm ready to meet it head on.

You Can't Always Get What You Want...

The harsh dose of reality set in late Sunday night. Returning to work in the morning, I was almost a little sad that my "vacation" with wisdom teeth was over. A diet of pudding and ice cream and applesauce while losing a little weight? I could get behind that.

So instead of lounging at home in pain, I've traded in my sweat pants and rejoined my fellow co-workers in business casual, with my mouth still a little sore.

---

A few weekends ago was Devon's birthday. Renee and I decided to make a dinner and dessert in celebration. I was afraid she would be down in the dumps since she has not made any headway on a job, car, or other savings of money beyond the bit she received for graduation. (Still waiting for Mother to ask to borrow that though). 

She greeted us at the door with a chipper smile, washing away my worries. A few comments made me realize it's still on her mind strongly, but she is not letting her get that down. How long this attitude will keep up, I cannot say, but I know there will be a breaking point. And that breaking point will probably be her significant other breaking up with her, due to the long distance and the fact she will probably not be returning at the end of summer.

A break up happens every summer she comes to stay at Devon's, even though Renee is only gone two months. From the few details dropped here and there, the relationship doesn't sound healthy, but it's all she's known and Mother has not been a good role model for how they should be.

I know she'll be crushed, and I'm sorry she'll be hurt. But in the long run, I truly think it may be the best thing for her. So many more avenues and options will open up to her and now is the best time to pursue them. 

I hope she will find something more positive, that enhances her life long-term. Something she truly needs.

Short & Sweet

Work has been hectic lately. Between the increasing amount of projects and responsibilities I've picked up along the way, time for small breaks (and even lunch) are difficult to fit in. 

As luck would have it, things have progressed beyond a dull roar, right before my vacation is ready to begin. 

I am grateful though - it has helped prevent me from worrying about my upcoming surgery. 

It's nothing major, just getting my wisdom teeth removed. But as my first surgery, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous and a little scared. 

See you in a week, with  four less teeth.

The Last of It

Spending time with Renee was certainly the high point of the trip. She was our tour guide through town, mentioning memories she had made here and there. Eventually she directed us to a park on the edge of town.

We were transformed into kids again, playing on the swings, walking on jungle gym, trying our hand at the monkey bars. Anything to lighten the mood for Renee – who undoubtedly had heavy thoughts clouding her mind.

Although it was beginning to get dark, we strolled through the grassy trails, finally able to talk without Mother’s nagging presence. It was clear Renee was resigned to her fate, but hopeful that within a short amount of time she would be able to work, save up some money and return. Glad that she hadn’t fully given into despair, I smiled outwardly. But inwardly I worried about how unrealistic her expectations were.

As the bugs snacked on us, we decided to head to a local retailer still open for the evening. Browsing the stacks and making jokes, we knew the night was winding down, but were reluctant to leave. Mother called twice, stating she was concerned and wanted to know exactly where we were and what we were doing. She has always thought being in our presence was some reason for alarm, and that we were going to kidnap Renee. (No, Mother, I’m not stupid enough to get in trouble with the law on your account).

After the second call, we decided to call it a night and return her to the motel. We said our sad good-byes, but it was a little better knowing she would be with her father over the summer and we’d see her again soon.

Trying to get a leg up on the trip back, we headed towards home. Plans to stop at a hotel were scrapped as Lawrence drove us home through the night and into the next day.

I love to travel, but it was a sigh of relief to come back home and to “normal”. 

Graduation Day

Our sleep is restless, but eventually the sun comes out and Renee’s graduation day is upon us.

After enjoying a decent complimentary breakfast, we check out and whittle away the hours until the school doors are opened for friends and family. There’s a lot of scenarios and theories we speak about regarding Mother and Renee, but as the unanswered questions grow the conversation dwindles before finally extinguishing.

I text Renee to speak with her as privately as I can, since we haven’t had a Mother-free moment. Even though she has put on a brave face, I remind her how we care for her and when things are getting bad we can help her. But she has to let us in, has to keep us informed. Her reaction is stony – she has given to the pessimistic view of things and says she knows, but there’s no way we can help. It’s disheartening and heavy to see those words from her, hours before she received her diploma.

Finally it’s 3 o’clock and the air-conditioned gym is opened to us. We wait in anticipation as the crowd filters in. Looking over the program, we see she has excelled beyond what we thought – 5^th in her class, National Honor Society, high honors in multiple programs (some due to the college courses she has already completed). I am beaming with pride at her hard work and the potential it holds for her future.

The band strikes a chord and all the faculty and graduates filter in. I can tell she is having trouble walking in her first pair of heels and wonder if she regrets choosing them during our shopping trip for her graduation outfit when she came to see us on spring break. We also scan to find her beau (located a few rows behind Renee). We nudge each other when they are called to the stage and wonder if we will meet this mysterious person later on. (We don’t).

The ceremony itself is as lackluster as I remember mine being and beyond my sister’s accomplishments, I zone out for most of it.

The band plays out the graduation, but exiting the gym takes a long time due to the size of the crowd. Eventually we emerge outside in the heat and search for Renee. Mother has beaten us there. She calls my brother, Steven, and asks him to meet us to determine where we are going for a celebratory dinner.

He shows up a few minutes later, much taller than when I’d last seen him, sporting shades and a shaved head. I wonder what kind of crowd he has integrated himself with here. Renee has told me he is still pursuing drugs, still behaving irrationally and irresponsibly. His bald noggin makes me question if he’s become involved in a skin head organization, but I keep to myself. He is no longer the little brother I was close to and loved dearly.

A local pizza parlor is decided on and we split for our respective cars. When we arrive, two girls are waiting for Steven. No introductions are made, so best guess is one is his girlfriend, the other her tag-along friend. 20 minutes into our meal, another couple that Steven knows and invited show up – making half our party pals of his that our disjointed family doesn’t know. I’m surprised I can feel even more disappointment in this trip, but I do  – Renee does not even get to have her spotlight time during her graduation “party”.

Thankfully the dinner ends quick enough and we head once more for Mother’s motel room. There is a cake, but between the heat melting it and our lack of appetite, it sits in the box. After much to-do and uncomfortable small talk, we are finally able to spend a few wonderful hours with just Renee.

Table Manners

Set on keeping the peace, we don’t resist her request and continue to pile in, but Mother hangs back.

“I don’t have enough gas in my car to get there and back,” she says, with an all too revealing look. I shrug again – less than 10 minutes in her company and I’m fed up. Renee says they’ll make it work. Five adults squeeze into my little 4-door sedan – Lawrence as my co-pilot, with Devon and Mother separated by the only thing in this world they still share, their daughter. A heavy tension descends upon us and refuses to shake loose until we leave for our hotel later that evening.

At the run-of-the-mill buffet, we share our meal in silence. We are voracious eaters, but keep our table manners in mind. As the meal draws to a close, I begin to note more closely how Mother has been eating – heartily and without a thought to chewing before swallowing her food. In my 17 years under her roof, we were expected to have exemplary table manners, no matter how hungry we were. To see this side of her is a new leaf, and I’m not sure a positive one.

Feeling like a fool, I connect the dots on why Renee requested we include Mother. I wonder how long it’s been since she’s eaten, and eaten “properly” to boot. Again, I am floored by the generosity and kindness of Renee’s heart – Mother is pulling her away from the one place she’s made a stand to remain at (along with a lengthy laundry list of other wrongs) and yet she is still concerned for Mother’s well-being. Sometimes she seems too old for her age – like she is raising Mother instead of the other way around.

We drop them off at their hotel and make our way to ours. It’s been a long day and we’re ready to recharge our batteries for tomorrow, Renee’s graduation. Navigating our way in the dark, we contemplate on how bizarre this day has been and the unexpected moving issue that has overshadowed the barely begun weekend.

"At least now you've had dinner with my in-laws," I tease Lawrence, who has just met Mother for the first time. 

"And it went as badly as you predicted. Your stories really weren't made-up."

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

I stop the car and put it in park. There’s no use denying we are there – Renee pointed at us the moment she could make out our faces. Mother’s car stops at the end of the driveway and she gets out to meet us, Renee remains in the passenger’s seat.

“I’ve missed you ,” Mother says to me, holding her arms out expectantly. I begrudgingly hug her back, mumbling a return, not heartfelt in the least. Quickly pulling away, I busy myself shuffling items in the trunk and getting an iced tea from the cooler. I can hear her talking in hushed tones to Devon, explaining her version of events. While not every word is audible, I catch words that disappoint me – “fight”, “moving”, “roommate”.

Wait, roommate?*

*To make a long story short, Mother has not worked in over 3 years, and does not go out and socialize. I’ve never known her to have a single true friend. So this fact is puzzling – who is this roommate and where did they materialize from?

As I close the trunk, she takes it as a cue and asks us to follow her to the hotel they are currently staying at. With more questions than answers at this point, we have no choice but to go further down the rabbit hole.

The short drive across town is tense, but will not even compare to others later during our brief stay. Rounding the final corner, we come upon 60’s style one-story motel that looks abandoned. My insides cringe, realizing Renee has not been truthful about the situation, trying to protect and prevent us from worrying.

Exiting our cars again, Mother finally acknowledges the third person in our party – my husband, Lawrence. It’s a standard “Hi”, but serves as a reminder that Mother is so wrapped up in her own life that she is not even curious or interested in who he even is and why he is there.

Devon and Mother doing most of the talking. Mother acting like nothing is going on, a bad history doesn’t exist, while Devon tries to diffuse the situation. I don’t trust my mouth to keep things low-key, clamping my lips tight and looking to Lawrence for something – anything, a reassuring smile, a comedic gesture, or an inside joke. He returns my gaze with a look of acknowledgement, confirming in his level-headedness that things really are that bad.

Renee finally opens her door and joins our terse group. She is quiet, her usual, but her eyes are puffy and she refuses to look at anything but the gravel under her tennis shoes. Devon asks her if she’d like to go to dinner with us. Between the gravity of the situation and our stomachs running solely on trail mix and jerky, we are anxious to hightail it out of the current situation.

After many indecisive answers (Renee’s forte), we agree on a restaurant the next town over. As we troupe towards the car, our appetites raging, she adds a clause to our trip.

Mother has to join us for dinner.

So It Begins...

What should be a happy occasion is laced with anxiety and a tinge of sadness. My intelligent little sister’s graduation should be a cause for celebration, for cheer. Instead it’s a 500 mile trip of white knuckles through the mountains, hoping my recently repaired car is truly repaired. 

As her father (Devon), my husband (Lawrence) and I travel to our destination, we muse over small things – the changing landscape, how big her class is, if we’ll meet her significant other and what (not if) her mother has in store to make this occasion less momentous than it is. It’s a bleak, but honest, view of what we know is inevitably in-store. I try to stave off tears, knowing after this there won't be any quick drives to see her at her father's during holiday visitation. Renee has stated her intent to continue living far from us, in order to remain among the community of friends she has finally been able to build for the first time in her life. I am proud of her and how she has grown, but I don't relish the thought of having to treat a visit as an actual vacation to have quality time together. And we're both miserable conversationalists on the phone. 

The day crawls from morning to lunch to late afternoon as we wind through the hills, occasionally stopping to fuel up and stretch our legs.

10 miles out, Devon calls Renee to let her know we are close. There is commotion in the background – the problems have already begun. Mother is making arrangements to meet anywhere but their home. And since Mother won't do anything that doesn't benefit her, we know something is up. Red flags raised, we make it a point of heading there straight away, instead of the proposed meet-up location.

Turning off the beaten country road, we begin inching down the gravel lane that provides access to the main road for a few homes and trailers set inside the field. An oncoming speck slowly grows larger and morphs into an old blue Mustang – Mother's car. The back windows are tinted, but I still can tell with a growing despair there are boxes in the back. Boxes for moving.

Moving 600 miles away merely two days after graduation, away from Renee’s friends and serious significant other of 2+ years. Friends that she has been fortunate to make in high school, after already being transferred through 4 previous schools. Moving away from the place I’ve seen her happiest.