A Valentine's tale from the mouth of a sailor

Be forewarned; this post will contain explicit language. F-bombs, S-words, and many other 4-letter words. As many as I can think of. Some say that swearing shows a lack of vocabulary. I disagree. Sometimes, a cuss word can convey the exact feeling you are experiencing and nothing else will suffice. This is one of those times.

The other day Bill excitedly told me that he got my Valentine's Day gift. I was a little surprised since we had talked about getting a spendy gift that would benefit us both. I didn't expect anymore gifts and I certainly didn't think about getting him one. "Are you actually going to wait until Valentine's Day?", I asked him since it's usually par for the course that he gets too excited and spills the beans a few days before. "Yes, well, it will be the day before", he smirked. Intrigued, I tried to extract more information from him unsuccessfully.

Yesterday afternoon I checked the mailbox and looked through the bills. I had been waiting for the phone bill because for weeks I've known that Bill has been lying to me. So, much like years before, and lies before this, I trusted my gut and followed the paper trail. It was back on Logan's birthday when the red flags caught my attention...

My sisters and my Dad had called Logan to wish him a happy birthday. Logan talked to them, thanking them for his gifts and rambling on and on about random preschooler stuff. Everyone got a kick out of it. This was during the drama from Aunt Ju-Ju who was flipping out because we were still enforcing the time out until there is a resolution to our family conflict. After my family had talked to Logan and after Bill had dealt with Aunt Ju-Ju, he got up from the couch to retrieve his phone from his pocket. Begrudgingly, he says, "Well, I better get this call over with".

"What are you talking about?", I asked him. "I'm going to call my parents so they can wish Logan a happy birthday", he said as seriously as a heart attack. I reminded him what a time out means with him interrupting me "do this for me". I wanted to smack the guilt out of him. I then asked him what was the difference between Christmas and Logan's birthday? What was so different now that it warranted a time-out from the time-out? The answer? Nothing. This was all happening because of the decisions his family had made and I told him that if Grandma L was going to wish Logan a happy birthday, then she could talk to me first to work on a resolution. That put an end to the conversation right there.

Soon after that I was getting ready to take a shower. Now, when I shower, I bring Carter in the bathroom to hang out in in his bouncer and Logan tags along to race his cars along the tub and entertain his little brother. However, even though Bill was there and available to watch the kids, I urged Logan to come with me. After the conversation with Bill about the phone call, the vehemence in his voice caused me to pay close attention to what was going on. I didn't trust him at all and figured he would call his parents while I was occupied. He called me out on my suspicions and assured me that he wouldn't go behind my back. I left Logan with him, but I still didn't trust him.

As the day ended, I asked if he had talked to his parents at all. He said he hadn't. I knew he was lying. The week continued and I asked a few more times. Every time he said no. I knew he was lying now. No doubt about it. So, I waited for the phone bill to bust him on the dumbest lie ever. I don't care if he talks to his parents; if he wants to have a relationship with people like that, who treat his family like shit, fabulous. That's his choice, however, they will not have a relationship with the rest of us. And for Christ's sake, don't lie to me about it. That is about the most ridiculous thing to lie about. Seriously.

The phone bill finally arrives and what do you know. He lied. Again. For the one millionth and one time. I sent an email to him letting him know that I'm tired of his lies. Again. I am PISSED beyond belief. That he would lie to me over something so trivial. Here we are, trying to rebuild trust and what does he do? Lies over a fucking pointless phone call.

But wait, it gets better.

When he emailed me back, he acted as though he was doing me a favor by "keeping me out of the loop". Forget that I smelled bull shit and looked for it like a bloodhound on the scent and once I discovered the truth, all hell would break loose. He just thought it would be better to lie to me.

But wait. It gets even better than that.

After my ranting email ripping him a new asshole, he called me, in which I think I yelled so loud at him it could have been possible to break the receiver in my phone. He sheepishly apologies, surprised that I would fucking absolutely lose my shit over discovering the truth about yet another lie. "Do you want to know what your Valentine's Day present is?", he asks me. "I don't give a fuck about Valentine's Day right now. In fact, you should probably return everything", I bark back. "My mom's in town right now. I'm going out for lunch with her on Friday. I wasn't going to tell you about it until after she left".

Thus began the Apocalypse in my kitchen, complete with the four horsemen riding past me. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! MY VALENTINE'S DAY PRESENT IS A LIE??!! WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE ARE YOU!?". Once again surprised that this would cause my God damn brain to hemorrhage, he apologises because he thought it was a good thing. The rest of the phone call was pure rage ending with a hang up. A few apologetic emails followed while I tried to collect myself, which was next to impossible, but accomplished.

Later that night Bill came home from work. He left to run a quick errand for me and the kids and I ate dinner. I got Carter to bed and by the time Bill came home, Logan was ready for his bath and bed. After the kids are down, I'm usually out the door and headed to the gym. Not this time. I just wasn't feeling it. Bill and I sat on the couch watching TV in silence. I was waiting for him to say something; to work on fixing this whole mess. But, in the end all he said was "I'm going to check my email and head to bed".

Enter another level of hell.

The cherry on top of this little sundae was Bill trying to say that I needed to go back on the medication because it makes our family happy. Granted, this was an all out, drag down, freak out - but he always does this. Whenever I am angry or upset at something (usually he does or his family does - something that warrants a world ending meltdown), the answer is always medication. Let's forget about how the last two weeks of being off the medication have been absolutely fan-fucking-tastic for me; the days are better, Logan and I are getting along and the frustration level has been drastically lower than the previous weeks (while on the medication, no less). But yeah, he doesn't see that because he's at work. So it doesn't count, I guess.

The aspect that sticks with me the most (other than the constant lies), is that here we are - another family visit where we had agreed to do something to resolve our issues. Yet, nothing is planned, no action has been taken, no resolution at all. This speaks volumes about how much Grandma L wants to end this time out. As of now, I'm moving towards an actual cut-off. And Bill? I have not a Fucking clue what to do about him.

This morning I am drained - physically, emotionally, mentally. It was good that we had a fun playgroup to go to; it got us out of the house and moving on to better moods. Another day. One foot in front of the other.

Liar, liar, pants on fire

Since my cover as our family's private investigator has been blown (or more like the extent was realized), when confronting Bill about possible untruths I am just flat out, straight up asking him rather than stewing in my suspicions. We've had open discussions about smoking where if he does have a slip up, he doesn't lie about it (from what I can tell) and things that are small simple acts that are glaring red flags for me (like closing out the browser to clear the internet history), I've asked if he has set up secret email accounts, etc. Sometimes I feel like I'm just waiting for the next lie to surface or for Bill to slip up and get busted. Again. Rebuilding trust is a sucky process.

One unsettling thing that I've discovered in my conversations will Bill is how rampant dishonesty is in many other people's relationships. All of Bill's coworkers that he's buddies with are keeping secrets from their wives. Nobody is involved in infidelity (as far as I know), but every one of them is secretly doing something that their wife would greatly disprove of. It makes my stomach turn to know that so many people are fine with lying to their loved ones and most importantly, the ones that they are supposed to love the most. It also makes me keep my guard up despite Bill telling me that he's told his friends that they should second guess keeping secrets from their wives because someday, they will get caught and it won't be pretty. Speaking from experience, he knows. But, if he's lied to me for MANY years and so many of his friends are lying, what's to say he's really going to realize how hurtful this is and change? You know what I mean?

I really don't understand why it's so hard to tell the truth. Has honesty vanished as a valuable trait?

Side effects

I'm going to get a little more personal in this post than I usually do (never thought that was possible), but it's very relevant to what's going on with me and how I feel. My family might read more than they wanted to know, but oh well! I'm sure they'll get over it. It's just something I have to write about...

Since starting Lexapro for postpartum depression/anxiety I have been experiencing some undesirable side effects. The first day was heart palpitations, which were short lived. Then on some days there was an increase of anxiety. Other days it was night sweats - similar to what I had with the hormone shift after Carter was born. I make sure to take it at night before I go to bed because it makes me tired and nauseous. I can avoid these feelings if I'm asleep. These symptoms have come and gone or are manageable. One symptom however, is not. It's effecting my "personal" life, if you catch my drift.

This makes me angry and upset. First, I still don't think I have PPD/A. I think I have in-laws that would drive anyone crazy. I don't feel any different on the medication even though Bill says he notices a difference. I don't feel more calm or in control, I don't feel like I have more patience, I don't feel anymore level than before. I still lose my temper and I still lose sleep over stressful situations (or leading up to them, as that's the case right now). It's hard to figure out the situation for what it really is when your brain is in question, which is the most confusing predicament ever. All I know is that I felt great - the best I've ever felt in my life - after Carter was born and for the four weeks after. Then after the "Virus Visit" with the in-laws everything went downhill. To me, the answer is easy - disconnect.

I've been talking about this since October. I've been talking about how I've had enough and I'm at my breaking point. No medication can change that. It's not fair that I get treated like I am, then take medication for the stress which makes the times in my life that are supposed to be enjoyable, miserable. The fact that I'm experiencing this side effect only adds more stress and depression. It breaks my heart and is incredibly frustrating. And quite frankly, I don't want to take two weeks to wean off and then try another medication which will take four to six weeks to take effect. Haven't I taken on enough already? Seriously. Why should I try harder for people who don't care or haven't tried anything at all? I've gone to counseling by myself, I've gone to counseling with Bill. I've taken medication. What has anyone else done? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. With my efforts, is anything different? Not even close. I think Bill and I are in a different spot, a better spot, but the situation with the in-laws is exactly the same.

Aunt Ju-Ju is delivering Cousin Q sometime this week. I think it's on Thursday, if memory serves me right. It could be on Monday, I really don't know for sure. At any rate, Grandma L is going to be in town again and we're supposed to go to counseling with her - nothing is set up as nobody is doing anything about it, no plans have been made, it's all talk at the moment. With this uncertainty just hanging, my anxiety increases. I sit here and ask myself why I even agreed to this. The only reason she's going is because I told her in an email that we've been discussing a cut-off for a few months now. We are way beyond apologies and I have no idea what we are going to get from this meeting. She's never going to be any different or do anything to mend the relationship (otherwise she would have by now) and when confronted about it, she even said "I don't think I have to tell you that" and "I'm not going to do anything". Even if she does keep her mouth shut and stops spreading lies about me, what does that change about everything she's done in the past? It doesn't. This is a relationship beyond repair. I don't know what can be done to move forward.

In the meantime, I'm on this stupid medication and I want to get off. It's effecting me in ways that make me turn over and cry into my pillow after apologizing for something I have no control over. It's not fair. It makes me even more angry with Bill's family. It makes me angry with Bill. It sucks that I'm the only one concerned about continuing to go through this. All for nothing.

Truth be told

First, let me preface this post by saying that I do love Bill, otherwise I wouldn't still be here after all of this crap (and after actually calling and speaking to divorce attorneys). I still believe that we are soul mates, which makes all of this that much more painful. We've been through a lot in our 10 years together and have always stuck it out, but it's come time that I get this off my chest because it's been eating at me for years. YEARS. I feel like I'm at the end of my rope already and not sure how much more of this I can take.

I decided to go ahead and write about this because it will help me - both in the short term and long term. I hope to overcome this with him and be able to look back at this post, proud of what we were able to achieve together. My intention is not to complain or bash. My intention is to be real. To acknowledge what I feel. Even though we are soul mates, that doesn't mean we are problem-free. I also took into consideration what Logan and Carter might get out of this if they read it in the future. I want them to know that marriage is very hard work and their parents are not perfect, but we try. I don't want them to think poorly of their Dad - quite the opposite. I want them to see the realities of marriage and relationships, of mistakes and hurt, to learn conflict resolution, to teach them the skills we never learned growing up, and that they can make changes before it's too late.

So here it goes...


I don't like being lied to. Who does, really? But me? I. Can. Not. Handle. Being lied to. I'm sure my past has a lot to do with how strongly I feel about this, but that's who I am. I need the truth more than most people. Truth equals security for me. Dishonesty and mistrust make my head spin. I often feel like I have a hard enough time trusting people to begin with, then when the person I love the most lies to me - it hurts more than anything. I don't even have the words to describe how it feels. For me, it's earth shattering.

There is a long history of dishonesty here that (unknowingly for me) started at the beginning. When Bill & I first met, he was a smoker. I told him that I wasn't going to date a smoker (for reasons listed in the linked post) and he quit. Or so I thought. Throughout the years he's lied to me about it, over and over again. Bill’s sacrifice of giving up smoking is so significant to me because it demonstrated that I was special enough to someone to give up something difficult for. Since living a life where I was often threatened to “give away”, not valued or respected, this sacrifice was monumental. After discovering that Bill picked up smoking time and time again, it devalues that significance for me. It feels like the ultimate betrayal by making me feel like that sacrifice was never real to begin with or that it wasn’t that big of a deal, so it’s easy to go back on his word. I understand the addiction and that it's difficult and that there are going to be slip-ups. But add dishonesty to the mix, where I ask him and I am lied to straight to my face, all of this becomes more than "just smoking".

The lies extended beyond smoking. There have been lies about our finances, lies about how involved his parents were in our business (more than I even knew about what was going on in our lives), lies upon lies. It's now to the point where I don't know what's real and what's not. For years, I developed the skills of a private investigator. I've seriously wondered if I should go into this field after the kids are in school, because I live it everyday. My gut tells me when something is not right and even though I might not find the truth right away, I always find it sooner or later. Always. I'm tired of being the suspicious wife.

I hate being lied to because it makes me feel like a sucker. It makes me feel weak and like I should have known better than to trust. With the years of lies about so many things, it makes me wonder why I'm not worthy of the truth. This should be a foundation of not only a marriage, but a friendship. Everyone deserves the truth. It's a common respect. The fact that I don't get this from our marriage cuts me to my core.

In the past few years, I've learned that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I've learned that the art of deception has been taught and lived for years before me. That this learned behavior is now a habit, just like smoking. The fear of dealing with the reality is extreme, so deception is the go-to coping skill. What boggles my mind is how hard it is to change this habit. When it's obvious how hurtful the dishonesty is, to me it seems like it would be easy to stop. Who would want to hurt their family so much? I know he doesn't want to, but I can't wrap my mind around it. I know it, but I can't understand it. Because every lie makes the reality worse. Every time there is more to deal with than just the issue at hand. It makes every situation more complicated, more stressful, more intense than it needed to be to begin with because I can't handle it. "The truth will set you free" rings so true for our family.

But, maybe I do understand more than I think I do. Maybe I tough it out not just out of love, but knowing how much our childhood carries over to our adulthood. He probably does the same because even though we both work on our "stuff", my history still haunts me regularly, even if it's not as much as years ago. Maybe knowing how hard it is for me to change helps to understand how hard it is for him. Maybe that's why we both keep on keepin' on.

On my soapbox
It's been a while since I've written a personal, non-deleted, introspective post. I think it's about time for one. This has been on my mind all week & it's only driving me crazy because the person who needs to hear it, doesn't care to listen in the least bit. Or really, doesn't care at all. So, what's better than blogging about it if I'm not going to be heard. This is something we all know, maybe we share the same feelings, maybe we don't, but it's going to be said anyway.

Smoking is one of the most selfish habits anyone can have.

There is absolutely no reason to do it, no reason to start, no valid reason to keep doing it. Personally, I find it disgusting, but there are so many other reasons why I hate the habit (& no, I have never smoked a cigarette in my life). It's mainly because it effects everyone around them, as much as the smoker may deny. They refuse to believe how much their habit hurts the ones they love the most (or are supposed to), far beyond the physical damage. There is so much emotional damage that comes along with it.

Kids from a very early age are taught that smoking is bad & to never start. They hear this in school, in church & sometimes at home. We see the commercials out there now about how smoking causes cancer & many other health problems. It's undeniable how much they slowly kill a person, when the warning is right there on the box. Kids take this warning to heart. They love their parents & other family members & knowing that smoking kills, they want to make them stop. For those that missed Oprah's Stop Smoking episode, there's the daughter of a smoking couple practically begging her parents to quit. It's heart breaking.

I know how that little kid feels, knowing that her parents are doing something "bad" that will kill them. This kind of knowledge & guilt that's put on their shoulders is more than unfair, it's cruel. It's callous. It's damaging, not only in the physical sense, but the emotional as well. If you want to mentally torture your kids? Keep smoking, even when the beg you to stop. And don't believe that you can hide it from them. They will find out. They aren't stupid.

As the years go by & the smoker continues their addictive habit, they get in way over their heads to the point where it's almost impossible to stop. It's been said that smoking is just as addictive as heroin. Why on Earth would someone start doing something that is so difficult to stop? Especially today! With everything we know! It still boggles my mind. But, because it's so difficult to stop, the physical damage to the smoker continues to progress. What happens to the family if (or more like when) the smoker develops diseases like emphysema or cancer? It's one of the most horrific times in a family members life, creating so much suffering equal to the physical suffering of the diseased smoker.

I've worked in a cancer clinic many years ago, where the majority of the patients were lung cancer patients. They would come in for chemo & with their oxygen tank in tow, hang out in the courtyard & light up again. It was the epitome of addiction. They were dying & couldn't stop (or hated themselves so much that they didn't want to). On more than one occasion, a cancer patient who also had emphysema, with their greenish-gray skin color, would stop breathing right before my eyes. Have you ever witnessed someone suffocating right in front of you? It's traumatic. The extreme fear in their eyes is something that would deter anyone from starting the deadly habit. Calling 9-1-1 to get them to the hospital ASAP before you witness their immanent death is something that no family member should have to experience.

Then there's the "C" word. Cancer. We live in a society where everything "causes" cancer. The sun, the air we breath, the products we use on our skin & the food we eat. But, without a shadow of a doubt we DO KNOW that smoking causes cancer. If you don't believe that, then Lord help you, because you're going to need it. As well as having worked in a cancer clinic, I've had family die from cancer. While not suffering from lung cancer, the result is the same. A slow & painful death. I vividly remember the last days of a passing loved one on morphine to stop the pain, calling to make sure they could say their good-byes regularly because nobody knew when the day would come, albeit soon. It was gut wrenchingly difficult, to say the least. Knowing that the risk of this being your future is very, very likely, I still don't know why a person would make the choice to smoke.

I wish more smokers would think about The Big Picture. Rather than thinking about how "cool" they are, or how much of a stress reliever it is for them, being selfish to the nth degree, I wish they would think about how their family is suffering from it or will suffer greatly in the near future. How much stress it causes them. How many tears would be shed from the results of their habits, how many sleepless nights there will be worrying about medical bills & everything else that comes along with illness.

There is no valid reason to start, no good reason to keep doing it & no sane reason to ever pick it up again.

Non-deleted post: Sleepless ramblings
I just need to unload here. I've mentioned my insomnia before & how it's directly related to stress. Over the course of the last year, it was pretty bad. There were nights that I did not sleep a wink. I watched the sunrise & listened to the morning birds sing their songs. They were very strange experiences. It's better than it's been, but there are good nights & bad. It all depends on how much stress there is (not caffeine, as Bill seems to believe). Tonight seems to be one of those nights.

I know at this point it's ridiculously stupid to worry about these stresses, but I do. During the day I'm fine & having fun with Logan & our friends. At night, it's a different story. I'm up trying to find something to take my mind off of what's running though my head (yea for celebrity gossip sites), but I'm all too often up until the wee hours of the morning. For the sake of getting it out of my head, I'm putting my stress & fears out there, on here, no matter how stupid they may be. While most people worry about money & other common stresses, the two triggers that are keeping me up at night are the holidays & trying for baby #2. These events in & of themselves are not major stresses to me, it's when Bill's family gets in the mix (or will be in the mix).

I don't expect all hell to break loose this Christmas (sort of), but what bothers me is that this could be our last Christmas with trying to develop our own family traditions. Developing these special traditions is so important to me. I want Logan to have fond holiday memories of the things we do as a family. As super crappy as my childhood was, Christmas Eve is still a really happy memory since it seemed to be the only time we were semi-normal. It was one of the few times in our lives that there was magic. This magic made me believe in Santa well into my school years. I want to make memories of cutting down our Christmas tree together & coming home to Christmas music & hot chocolate while we decorate the house. I want to remember the Christmas pajama's that we all get on Christmas Eve & wear all day as we lounge around on Christmas Day. The breakfast feast, the thoughtful stocking stuffers, the magic of Santa. These are the happy memories that I want to create for us.

While all of this may happen this year, it may be the last year. Bill's parents are moving here in the summer. Because of the way they are, our traditions will be no longer & it will be all about "their" traditions. They will need to be included in every aspect of our holidays, from the tree cutting to the pajamas & Christmas Day. We won't have anything of our own. This bring us to baby #2. They will be here when the baby is born. They will demand that Logan spend the night with them while I'm in labor. As retired grandparents, they will be over often, taking the baby from me again, too. They will want us to come over every weekend. Every holiday will be spent with them, every opportunity we have to form our own family bond will be interrupted.

The stress keeps me up because I have very little faith that it will be any different. I am not confidant that the changes we've been working on will stick when they are around 24/7. And you know what's so irritating about stressing over this? These things won't happen for months down the line! But here I am, awake & freaked out to the ends of the earth about it. It sucks & I hate it. I wish I could be certain that this isn't our future. Maybe then I would finally sleep like a normal person.

This is the last one, I promise (at least until next week)
I really don't want this to be the drama blog of doom, but that's what's going on right now. First, I have to give MAJOR credit to Bill. He has been awesome. I know it's difficult to have negative conversations about your mother, especially if you've looked at her through rose colored glasses. I understand that it's not pleasant. He has held my hand, let me cry, listens & assures me that he'll take care of everything & it will be ok. "I wish you had talked to me before", he said. "I never felt like you had my back or understood how I felt", I cried. "I will always have your back. I'm sorry it wasn't clear before", he apologized. This means so much to me.

I also have to give props to my sisters. I know Bill can only hear so much. When I really have to let it all out, they are always there on the phone listening to me cry & assuring me that I have every right to feel like I do. I can't even count how many times Logans' Aunt R & Aunt J have listened to me scream (literally) about Grandma L. I always feel better after our conversations. This means so much to me too.

Not only have Bill & my sisters been great, but it's been unfortunately relieving to read the comments from all of the blogging Moms out there who share similar mother in law problems. It makes me feel little more normal & not so alone. It's really crappy that we all have to deal with it, but at least we're all in it together.

So this is the new part of the drama & why I've been crying to my family today. It turns out that Grandma L isn't taking any ownership in the situation. She talks about it to everyone, playing Polly Anna the whole time. She claims that I have anger & hostility towards her as a reflection of my hatred towards my mother (No, she doesn't hold a psychology degree) & she also thinks I'm hormonal or chemically imbalanced. She also believes that I'm insecure in my relationship with Bill & feel their relationship is too close. My "undermining" her is my attempt to strengthen our marriage (It actually was tearing us apart until we really started communicating better). She has said that when she's here, she just needs to keep her big mouth shut & I know she has also made back up plans to stay with someone else if things "go bad".

This may get a bit lengthy, but I'm going to list all of the reasons why I'm angry with her. She has some serious boundary issues that she is clearly in denial about (this is just stuff that has happened after Logan was born. We'll leave out what has happened before).

• She initially planned to visit & see Logan for the first time when he would be 2 weeks old. I was comfortable & happy with this plan. I felt like it gave me enough time to heal & get my bearings as a new Mother. Right after Logan was born & I was being wheeled into the Mother/Baby unit, Bill told me she called & was coming out the day after we got home from the hospital. I had no say in the matter. It felt like it was an intrusion on our time as a new family.
• The first words from her as she walked in the door as I was nursing Logan: "Are you done yet?! Because I'm ready to hold him!" This set the tone for her role as a grandmother & how I felt about her. This was the most selfish comment I've ever heard. She didn't care that Logan needed to eat, she just wanted to hold him.
• She proceeded to take Logan hostage the entire visit. The only time I held him was when he needed a diaper change & needed to nurse. When I told her that Logan needed to eat, she was very reluctant to give him back. "He's not awake yet", she would quickly reply. She would then take her time & very slowly would try to wake him up rather than giving him back to his Mother.
• She made very passive aggressive comments about my choice to breast feed. She always said, "That's the problem with breast feeding, you never know how much they're going to get", or some other remark. Then when she was confronted about it, she would always say, "Oh, it's so good for him! It's the best thing you can do for your baby". A few minutes later she would ask when Logan would start bottle feeding & when he was going to start formula. After I told her repeatedly about not formula feeding, she would then ask, "When could he start formula"? I feel like her comments are a reflection of her resentment towards me for being able to successfully breast feed Logan. She wasn't able to with Bill & Aunt Ju-Ju.

This is the post about that first visit.

• Logan was sleeping in his bassinet at the foot of our bed. He woke up crying one morning because it was time to eat. I got up & brought him into bed to nurse. Just as I was getting him latched on, she opens our bedroom door to come in. I was in such shock (& sleep deprived) & just sat there slack-jawed as she turned around & closed the door behind her. This was the ultimate invasion of privacy.
• She took it upon herself to "take care of Logan" while Bill & I went out & left him with her. She thought he needed his face scrubbed. We got back to hear that she scrubbed his face but didn't like it too much. He was hysterical for a while & it took some time to calm him down. First, his face was dry because of the climate in Colorado. Washing his face is only going to make it worse. Secondly, I now have a complex when leaving him with anyone, fearing that they'll "take care of him" & he's getting hysterical.
• She literally snatched him from me. I was getting ready to change his diaper & his clothes. He was on the changing table & I turned around to grab a new outfit. She comes in & takes him off of the table, still in a dirty diaper & takes him out of the room. While she has him hostage & not getting taken care of, I'm being told to "go take a break".

This is the post about the second visit.

• Logan had a serious reaction to his vaccinations. I never really wanted to immunize him, but went against my feelings so as not to "rock the boat" in the family. After a week of constant sleep & not waking up much at all & me crying & worrying about him, she told me it was "normal". Logans' doctors said it wasn't normal & changed his vaccination schedule & narrowed it down to the pertussis shot. After telling her that it wasn't normal & found out what shot it was, she freaked out that Logan wasn't going to continue receiving that vaccination, even though it could really hurt him. I'm still upset with myself for not listening to my gut & following her advice. I will never take her advice again.
  

This is the post about his 2nd month vaccination.

• After having had a conversation about boundaries, we go on vacation & it all goes out the window. The breast feeding comments continue, baby hostage situations with her taking him away from me, her running to his crib to beat me there & her "taking care" of him in the car while I'm sitting right next to him.
• She attempted to take away our first day at the park by trying to put him on the swings. Fortunately Logan was still too small.
• She had her sister confront me, "Grandma L is a proud grandma, but she's having a hard time". I felt cornered & ganged up on. This was none of her business & a conversation that didn't need to happen.
• While staying at her sisters' house, I stepped on the scale in their bathroom. I was surprised & proud that I weighed a little bit less than I did pre-pregnancy. Her comment was, "Are you sure the scale isn't broken"?
  

This is the long rant/post about the vacation.

• While we were getting ready to move, she over stepped her bounds in reaction to the house we were going to rent. Granted there were problems that arose after our initial inspection & walk through, we are adults & can take care of ourselves. I still feel that she made such a scene because she didn't want to stay there when visiting. Her comment about the wood burning stove & animal skull in the back yard was the giveaway.
• She continued to take Logan away from me & I confronted her about in. After our conversation, she threw her hands up in the air saying "Fine. I'll never say anything again". She didn't follow through.

This is the post about our move.

• She made passive aggressive comments about how I was "starving" Logan. In the past, she would always tell me his stomach was growling & that he was constantly hungry. It got to the point where I called his doctor to talk about it. They assured me Logan was healthy & not always hungry.

This is the post where Bill & I started communicating better about the situation.

• After uploading some recent pictures of Logan, she called to say, "It's nice to finally see Logan smile other than his straight line smile". This was very offensive to me hearing someone pretty much say that it was nice to see my son look different.

This is the post where I freak out about it & her impending visit.

The list is huge. It's comforting to see that it's not all "in my head" like she seems to believe. While the lack of relationship with my mom certainly doesn't help in the trusting of other people, it isn't the sole reason for the problems with Grandma L. At times it seems like she's trying to help, but as I read entry after entry & time goes on, my opinion changes.

So, that's enough of that. This post was the "Vent of all vents". A grand finale of why I feel like I do & why she does have ownership in the situation. I'm done venting about it until the visit is over next Sunday. Onto happier things tomorrow.

Somebody please send me some Valium...non-deleted post #3
I am having some major anxiety. It's all because of Grandma L. She & Grandpa L are coming out at the end of the month because Aunt Ju-Ju & Uncle J are expecting Baby B's arrival. We're "lucky" enough to expect the grandparents to being staying with us, seeing as though we're the ones with the extra bedroom & half bath. Wonderful.

I haven't talked to Grandma L since about Labor Day. A week or so before that, she made the passive aggressive comment to me about how I was starving Logan. It was a major turning point in my marriage with Bill, because he finally started to listen to me. In my next conversation with her the week after, she made a comment about Logan's picture.

I take weekly pictures of Logan to put up on PhotoBucket. I do this because I think it's fun for Bill & myself to see how he grows & it's a nice way to keep our families up to date as well. Shortly after I added some of Logan's pictures, I get a phone call from her. "Thank you for the pictures. It's nice to finally see Logan smile other than his 'straight line smile'". I almost went through the phone to wring her neck.

In the past she has always made comments about his "straight line smile". About how it's so funny, blah, blah, blah. I always just laugh & say, "Yeah, Logan is pretty funny like that. It's just the way he likes to smile sometimes". Ha. Ha. Ha. As annoying as it is to hear her always talk about it, it never bothered me too much until she said it was nice to see him smile differently.

Was there a problem with the way he smiled before? Am I only supposed to put up pictures of him smiling the way she wants him to? It took every ounce of life in me to not scream at her over the phone. In a very stern voice desperately trying to control myself, I said, "Yes. He has a straight line smile. It's just what he likes to do. It's just the way he is". She became quiet. Then Logan woke up from his nap crying. She got off the phone pretty darn quick & I haven't talked to her since.

It's extremely frustrating because she either doesn't think about what she says & that it can be offensive to others, basically, she's ignorant. Or, she doesn't care. I'm leaning towards "she doesn't care". Bill talked to her about boundaries the visit she made before we went to North Dakota. Then it all went out the window on vacation. I told her to back off when we moved & she had her hysterical breakdown over the place we were going to rent. She has been told explicitly on three different occasions to mind her own business & back off. She doesn't care.

Too top it all off, Bill told me that he talked to her the other day. She told him that she bought Logan & Baby B matching pajamas so that she could take a picture of them for her Christmas card. I almost flipped my lid.

"What? Who does she think she is? This is totally over the line. We're taking pictures of our family for our Christmas Card. Why does she think taking a picture of someone elses baby & only the baby, for her card is appropriate? I'm tired of her trying to play mommy over & over again!"

Bill & I sat down & talked about it. Major brownie points on his part. He said that he would talk to her & I told him that if her children...the parents of the babies...were in the picture, it would be appropriate & I could compromise with that.

I don't know what else to do with this lady. We've talked to her over & over & over again. She says she's sorry, but her actions & behavior never change. To me, saying sorry & not changing is worthless. Now I feel like the gloves are off. She made a comment about the way my baby looks. She makes comments about my parenting choices. She doesn't respect boundaries or my role as a Mother. I'm not taking it anymore. If she does anything...anything at all. There will be words. Many of them.

****I just got a phone call from Aunt Ju-Ju. Baby B is breeched so they scheduled a c-section for early next week. Monday or Tuesday. Looks like we get visitors sooner than expected****

I just can't get away...non-deleted post #2
I thought I was able to escape my childhood. I thought that the past 9 years had been enough time to erase my memory & forget all about it. I was wrong. Apparently, very wrong.

It has come to my attention that the ungodly amount of stress that I'm under is due to a multitude of things, but exacerbated by only one. Selling a brand new house in the crappiest market imaginable is stressful. Feeling financially unstable is, as well as the worrying about what the future may hold. Becoming parents with the changes & the toll it takes on a relationship is a difficult adjustment. None of this is easy & it's being compounded with my childhood horrors seeping out from my subconscious & smacking me in the back of head like a frying pan.

When I met Bill, he was my knight in shinning armor. I felt that he literally saved me from my family, providing love, hope, safety & security. He gives me what I need, but yet, it's not enough to heal old wounds. To add more complication to the matter, I didn't know that when you become a parent, those unhealed childhood wounds are ripped open even more.

When the pregnancy test came back positive, this was by far my biggest fear. Becoming the mother that I had & hated, reliving my childhood all over again. When I walked out into the living room to tell Bill the results, I was shaking. Violently. Like I just saw a ghost. Logan was planned & I really wanted to have a baby, but I didn't know how the reality of parenthood would scare me to death. It rattled my core.

The way I always dealt with the events of the past was escape. Physically or mentally. When things got really bad at home, I ran away. After soccer practice on the first day of my freshman year, I had my mom screaming at me from one side & my step-dad screaming at me from the other, yelling that everything was my fault. They were getting a divorce (which never happened) & sending me to a foster home. I ran to my best friends house ( around the corner) & stayed there for a couple of days until my parents called the cops to report me as a run away & have me picked up. Then I was dragged home again to depression & quite literally, Hell. There were times that I felt that there was no way out, other than death.

After this event & the ultimate end of my living at home when I was 15, I had been picked up & sent to a detention center for troubled youth. I was picked up by the family, only because there was a time limit of a few days for the kids that were sent there. On the way home, I told them that I would just run away again. I wasn't ever going back & I knew in my heart that I didn't want to die either. I was sent to live with my grandma Nancy. The abuse was over & out in the open. I didn't have any secrets anymore. I stayed there for a little while, but with her declining health due to colon cancer, I was sent to live with cousins I had never met. I lived there while I finished high school & then I met Bill.

When Bill & I got together, there was no more running away, in the physical sense. The trauma was covered up like bad make-up with partying, workaholism & pretending everything was ok now that I had escaped. When I got tired of this, we stopped partying (for the most part) & moved. Work took over my life even more, since the "Vegas" lifestyle was over. Then we moved again & I got fed up with living my life & practically being a slave for "the company". I needed to fill a void, an emptiness. The parties & work weren't doing the trick. I thought that becoming a parent would "solve" this. I was wrong, in a way.

While my role as a mother hasn't magically resolved my feelings, it's making me take steps towards a resolution. Staying at home, there's no escape. There's no work to loose myself in. There's no alcohol. There's no self destructive vice to "forget" about everything. Every action that I take has a direct affect on Logan. And he is more important than I. My responsibility & devotion to him is making me face what has happened straight on. No cover up, no denial, no pretending to move on. It's right there & I can't even turn away, let alone run away.

The light bulb is lit above my head. The stress is more manageable now that I understand why it feels so bad. So now Logan has become my second knight in shining armor. Not that he has "saved" me, but forced me to save myself, for his sake.

The first non-deleted post & a very long one at that.
Non-deleted posts are pretty much a long vent. Especially this one. They are honest & sometimes sound horrible, but it's how I feel about a certain situation. This is an issue that I've talked to Bill about, but I don't have his support. He doesn't understand (as much as he says he does, anyway) & I understand that these are issues he doesn't want to really hear about. He has a good relationship with his family & nobody wants to hear about issues "outsiders" may have, especially when it comes to mom.

Even though we had a good time on vacation, there were certain aspects that were challenging for me. Mainly, Bill's mom. My relationship with her has been difficult for so many reasons. First, my relationship (or lack there of) with my own mom doesn't help any. I've never really had a mom (or a good one anyway), so it's hard to just automatically turn into a loving daughter. Then there are bits of history that I can't get over. This is definitely one of my faults. I hold grudges. I don't get over things very well. Since Logan has been born, it's something that I'm trying to work on.

After 9/11 when our life was turned upside down, I decided that it was a prime opportunity to go to grad school so I could pursue my career as a Chiropractor. Bill had been in a dead end job & hated it. I was tired of running the office I was working in & getting absolutely no credit. Our time in Vegas was up. Living there was no longer fun. This transition put a major strain on our marriage. Bill isn't a risk taker & needs to have everything planned & plotted out to feel comfortable. Me, I just wanted a clean slate. A fresh start. Something different & move us forward. I didn't care if I had to live in a car to get there.

Moving across the country became a big deal because this would separate Bill from his parents for the first time. As much as he says this wasn't a bone of contention, it truly was. His parents were far too involved in our personal business. They knew more about our financial situation that I did. When push came to shove & I told Bill that I was moving with or without him, he called his parents over. There was a lovely night. After telling them (or crying hysterically) that I couldn't live in Vegas any longer & I needed to go to school, Bill's mom flat out said, "You're not smart enough to be a Doctor". I will never forget that.

We were never close after that episode, even if there were apologies. We didn't talk on the phone unless it was when Bill was on the phone too. When I found out that I was pregnant, she called me constantly. I felt it was fake but talked to her anyway, attempting to move forward. She teaches child development in school & offered advice. When I was really sick with "morning sickness", she told me to do everything under the sun. Eat crackers, eat something before getting up in the morning, try ginger ale, wear a sea band. The list went on forever. When I was diagnosed with HG, she still continued to recommend home remedies, even though I was on medication that they perscribe cancer patients after chemo.

Shortly after we moved into out house, she came out to help us unpack. I couldn't even get up from the couch without feeling faint or feeling like I needed to rush to the bathroom, let alone unpack a whole house. One evening she was sitting out in the garage meeting neighbors & such. "You know, all you need is some fresh air. You should come sit with me outside". I went to be polite & to humor her. She let the dogs out & of course they took advantage of the situation. They go running off, pooping in neighbors yards...while the neighbors were standing there watching. Who had to go running after them & pick up the poop? Me. Yeah, after I picked up the poop & lugged a 30 lb Pug & Beagle back into the house, I threw up. I guess all I needed was some fresh air. Later that night I told Bill that it really bothered me that his mom downplays how sick I was. He just shrugged his shoulders.

The advice on everything continued. I listened & didn't say anything because I knew this was a part of motherhood. Everyone wants to tell you something & how to do it. However, another fault of mine is thinking that I know it all. And if I don't know it, I'll go figure it out for myself. I don't like to ask for help. I never have & I never will. This will probably never change either. I know it bothered her that I wasn't on the phone everyday to ask her about something pregnancy or baby related.

Everything snowballed after Logan was born. Before I went into the hospital, Bill's mom booked a flight out for 2 weeks after the due date. I was very comfortable with that. It gave me enough time to heal & get the hang of being a mom. The day Logan was born, Bill told me she was coming out the day after we got home from the hospital. I was a little irked, but I knew she was excited. The visit was a baby hostage crisis combined with breast feeding jealousy. The next morning when Logan woke up crying to eat, I got him out of his bassinet (that was in our room). The next thing I know, she comes rushing into our room to "take care" of the situation. That really pissed me off.

The next visit wasn't any better. Originally I thought I was just being hormonal. But then I realized she was trying to take over. I talked to Bill about it & he talked to her before the next upcoming visit. This visit was better. However, it seemed like the understanding was forgotten while we were on vacation.

We had been in town no longer than an hour when the breast feeding comments started again. In the past she was always asking me when Logan was going to start formula feeding. I repeatedly said never, unless for some reason I can't continue breast feeding. Now she's always asking about when he's going to start solids, even though I repeatedly tell her that because of his food sensitivities, his pediatrician & I decided that starting him after 6 months would be a good idea. "What's mommy going to do when you get teeth? We'll see what happens to breast feeding then", she says as we're sitting in the kitchen. I clenched my jaw shut. I sat there & thought to myself, Why on God's green earth are you wishing that he would bite me? I know you couldn't breast feed. I know it's not easy for everyone. But give it up! I'm tired of the freaking comments! Those comments continued all week long when someone from the family would ask about bottle feeding.

Then there was the grandma take over. Bill's mom has been a mom for 32 years. She knows how to be a wonderful mother. She's never been a grandma before. She does not know how to be a grandma. I wanted to crawl out of my skin every time Logan got fussy & she would rush over. "Come to grandma", clapping her hands frantically. "I'll make it better". Hello! This is my child, not yours. Do NOT act like I can't take care of him & you can do a better job. The same thing would happen when he would wake up from a nap in his crib. When she was in the bathroom curling her hair, Logan woke up. I came upstairs to take care of him & she was already at the crib. I just sighed I went back down. She came down with him & I decided I would take advantage of the opportunity. You want to constantly take care of him? Fine. I'm going to "take a break" & jump in the shower for about an hour & a half. She was not happy. All I heard about was how she had been trying to get her hair curled for the last two hours. Hey, I didn't ask her to get him. If she was busy, she didn't have to stop what she was doing & pretend to be his mom. Later that afternoon, she rocked Logan to sleep rather than but him in his crib. She did this after knowing how hard I'm trying to teach him how to soothe himself so we can all get to sleep better in our house. Rocking him to sleep is taking us a step back. I was livid. Of course, Bill just made excuses for her.

Then there were the car rides. We drove a whole lot on this trip. Logan was in the middle with me on one side & grandma on the other. She could not keep her hands out of the car seat & away from his face, with her finger jammed in his binky. If he fussed, I was right there. There was absolutely no reason for her to be "the mom". As we were driving to the reunion, she had her finger in his face. He was turning his head from side to side because he didn't want to take his binky. "He can hold it in there by himself. You don't need to keep it in the whole time. Otherwise, it's going to be a long ride for you", I finally said. I demonstrated how he can take the binky from me & put it in his own mouth. I also propped the burp cloth under his chin so if the binky did pop out, he could still reach it with his lips. The rides were pretty silent after that.

At the reunion he was passed around all day long. I was prepared for this to happen, so I wasn't totally freaked out. There were times that it was too much for Logan though. When everyone was eating, he fell asleep on my lap. She came over & wanted to take him. "He's fine, I'm fine holding him. I've already had something to eat, thank you though", I told her. She walked away a little put off. As we were saying our good bye's, Bill's aunt (his moms sister) hugged me & said, "She's (Bill's mom) is one proud grandma. She's having a hard time". Woah. This made my eyebrows raise. "Oh yeah?", I said & left it at that. What I really wanted to say was, Oh yeah? Well, there are a lot of layers in this onion. We're all having a hard time.

One afternoon Bill & I left Logan with grandma & we went out to grab something to eat. She said they were going for a walk & left a few minutes before us. As we were driving out of the driveway, I noticed that she was on her way to the park with him. "What the hell! She's taking him to the park. He's never been on a swing before! She's taking away one of our firsts!" I gasped. Bill didn't say anything & I was mad as hell. She's had two kids. She had a chance to raise them & do things with them. Logan is my first baby & what she's doing isn't right. Fortunately, Logan didn't fit in the infant swing & she didn't want to hold him on her lap. But the fact that she was going to do this was unbelievable.

I never said anything during the vacation. I didn't want to make it extreamely uncomfortable for everyone. My jaw is sore from clenching my teeth, that's for sure. I made sure to give her one-on-one grandma time with Logan. She baby sat almost every night while Bill & I went out. She spent time with him in the morning while I got a chance to sleep in. She played with him while I was in the shower & getting ready for the day. It was never like I kept them away from each other or tried to but in on bonding time. It bothers me to the ends of the earth that she doesn't understand (even after conversations about it) what her role is. It's to the point where I can't wait for Logans' cousin to be born. Maybe then grandma can try to take over at their house instead of ours.

WARNING: This contains adult language. Viewer discretion is advised.
(Logan, this means you're not allowed to read this without me).


To The Heartless Bastard That Ripped Us Off:


You thought you were pretty sly, didn't you? Actually, what where you thinking anyway? Well, your bull shit stops here, right now. It's fortunate for our family that I'm completely neurotic about our financial situation & I compulsively check our online bank statement, micro managing every single transaction. That's where I busted you.

At first I didn't know what to think. You see, in our family Bill takes care of all of the financial aspects of our life & I'm left in the dark (very stupid, I know. But no matter what changes we make, we always fall back into this pattern). So, when I saw that we had 3 "bills" paid by Paypal, I thought to myself "Hmmm, I don't remember talking about these when we went over the budget yesterday & why in the HELL are they getting paid through Paypal?" But I shrugged it off, thinking that I would talk to Bill about it when he got home from work & I continued to sing & laugh & play with my baby. Yes, you read that right. My BABY. But we'll get to that part a little bit later.

Later that night Bill gets home. We talk about our days & then nonchalantly I ask him, "Hey, what's up with about $500 getting paid? I don't remember talking about a $500 bill". "What?" he says. "We don't have any bills that are $500. Who did it get paid to?" Still not thinking too much about it, I tell him "I don't know, it went through Paypal". "We don't pay any bills through Paypal" he says & we go upstairs so I can show him the online statement.

After taking one look at it, "This is fraud. These aren't bills". Great. Now I'm really pissed off at you. You STOLE $573.12 from a family, yes a FAMILY, that is in no financial situation to be less than that. Bill calls the bank right away to report your assholish actions & then we were told that you didn't steal our bank account number through a card (we thought this because my card expires this month & I still haven't received it in the mail, while Bill has had his for weeks now), but you hacked into our Paypal account that we never use.

We pull up our Paypal account & look at the history. There it is. The shit you bought with our hard earned money. We take a look at the sites that you bought from:

• www.R3N3.com. This looks like you set up a web site.
  
• www.ecki.com. Ok, advertising software for the site you're putting up.
• www.paltalk.com. A voice & video chat program. Now I know what you're doing.

You stole money from our family to start up a PORN SITE! YOU FUCKING IDIOT! Here I am, depriving myself of fucking sugar free jello when we go grocery shopping so I can still be a stay at home mom & you steal $573.12 to start up a skanky ass web cam site! I WANT TO KILL YOU! If you were smart & the least bit good looking, you could've found yourself a sugar daddy to fund your endeavors. But no. No, you take money from a family that has a 3 MONTH OLD BABY. We have to buy DIAPERS & WIPES for our baby. We have to buy GROCERIES so we can EAT. We have REAL BILLS TO PAY. I FUCKING HATE YOU!

I hope your site fails. I hope you don't make any money at all. I hope you get AIDS from the shit you do on your webcam. I hope you get this evil disease & it eats your body alive, leaving you a weak & lonely shell of a human being. You fucking shitbag.

Now, not only has our bank been notified, but Paypal as well. You won't be able to take anymore money from us. Thankfully we'll be OK because I have been obsessive about our financial situation, making sure we don't spend too much. It will take about a week to get our money back. A week. No big deal. So while our family won't be in ruins because of you, you stupid piece of shit, I hope karma bites you in your STD ridden ass. I believe in karma. You get in life what you put out into the universe. Someday, you'll get what's coming to you. I'll say it again, I hope it's AIDS.

Sincerely,

Kristin
A stay at home mom who would've liked to use that money for her family