Thank you, Jen, for your kind words. I really needed it today.
I've been in a slump since seeing Kelli over the weekend and today just made it worse. I've decided that FB is evil. Sure it's great to see what's going on in other people's lives, but it also opens the door to unexpected pain.
I see friends' status messages about their social lives and their nights out on the town, only to realize that I wasn't invited. I'm sure it's a small thing and nothing was meant by it... there's always a reason for those sort of things.
It's just that following so close to seeing Kelli... it just added to my slump. My "woe is me" mood.
So your comments were perfect. Thank you.
My friend situation may not be what I always imagined I would have, but I do feel confident that the few friends I do have will always be there for me even if I don't hang out with them nearly as often as I'd like.
To all of you... thank you. You mean so much to me. I'm always amazed by your perfect timing.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Shutdown Avoided & Old Friends
Apparently you guys talked me out of it, and with good timing too.
I'm sure everyone has regrets of some sort and I'm sure that everyone has someone from their past that brings a feeling of sadness that sweeps over your body if and when you ever think of them.
Mine is Kelli.
The nutshell is this: We met in college and became good friends. She was the one to whome I first admitted being attracted to Michael. In fact, she was the one who first told me what his name was (and still is, I suppose). I was in her wedding. She was in my wedding. She got pregnant and had a beautiful baby boy. I got pregnant and we wrote to each other weekly. When Ellie was born, it all stopped.
I have my theories on why she stopped being my friend but they're all just theories. They all seem so silly, certainly not significant enough to warrent ending a friendship. But obviously they are. Or perhaps my friendship just didn't matter to her as much as she did to me. That can't be. I was in her wedding just the same.
Anyway, I won't go into details of the agonizing questioning I've put myself through, wondering what happened. After trying to contact her multiple times and in multiple ways, she never told me.
It had been nearly 3 years since we spoke by the time I happened to run into her husband and first son at the store this last weekend. It was bound to happen sometime, right? After all, we do live in the same town.
Seeing Kenny made my stomach lurch. It brought back so many unanswered questions that I knew were inappropriate to ask him. It's not his place to answer them. So instead we chatted about other neutral topics. Where do you work now? What about Kelli? Is she still working? How is she doing? What's your younger boy's name? Do they go to daycare? Oh yes! I can't believe how expensive it is either.
And oh, by the way... why did Kelli stop speaking to me? But no. I didn't ask.
On the way out to the car we saw her. She was pulling up their car to pick up Kenny. And there, inside my stomach, was a sensation of dread. It was a horrible sensation and I found myself wondering what it would be like to go up and give my old friend a hug. But at the same time I questioned if I should even say anything to her.
Michael told me I should. He was probably right. I walked up to her car and was nearly certain she was avoiding looking my way. I knocked on her window so that she had no choice but to respond. As Michael helped Kenny load stuff into their car, Kelli and I chatted.
No. That's not right. It wasn't much of a chat.
Have you ever been with someone who obviously doesn't know who you are but doesn't want to admit it? It was almost, but not quite, the complete opposite of that. At least in that case the person tries to pretend that nothing is wrong.
There was no doubt in my mind that Kelli did not want to be talking to me at that moment. She answered my questions with one worded answers. She asked the same questions in return to be polite but didn't offer up any new ones. The akwardness was too much for me to bare so I quickly said my good byes: "Well, I thought I'd stop by and say hi. It was nice to see you and the boys again."
"Yeah, bye."
Then my family and I went back to our car and sat in silence. Well, Michael and I sat in silence as Ellie chatted away. There wasn't much to say and I'm sure that my tears told Michael that the only thing he could do was squeeze my hand. And that he did. Two or three times.
I'm sure everyone has regrets of some sort and I'm sure that everyone has someone from their past that brings a feeling of sadness that sweeps over your body if and when you ever think of them.
Mine is Kelli.
The nutshell is this: We met in college and became good friends. She was the one to whome I first admitted being attracted to Michael. In fact, she was the one who first told me what his name was (and still is, I suppose). I was in her wedding. She was in my wedding. She got pregnant and had a beautiful baby boy. I got pregnant and we wrote to each other weekly. When Ellie was born, it all stopped.
I have my theories on why she stopped being my friend but they're all just theories. They all seem so silly, certainly not significant enough to warrent ending a friendship. But obviously they are. Or perhaps my friendship just didn't matter to her as much as she did to me. That can't be. I was in her wedding just the same.
Anyway, I won't go into details of the agonizing questioning I've put myself through, wondering what happened. After trying to contact her multiple times and in multiple ways, she never told me.
It had been nearly 3 years since we spoke by the time I happened to run into her husband and first son at the store this last weekend. It was bound to happen sometime, right? After all, we do live in the same town.
Seeing Kenny made my stomach lurch. It brought back so many unanswered questions that I knew were inappropriate to ask him. It's not his place to answer them. So instead we chatted about other neutral topics. Where do you work now? What about Kelli? Is she still working? How is she doing? What's your younger boy's name? Do they go to daycare? Oh yes! I can't believe how expensive it is either.
And oh, by the way... why did Kelli stop speaking to me? But no. I didn't ask.
On the way out to the car we saw her. She was pulling up their car to pick up Kenny. And there, inside my stomach, was a sensation of dread. It was a horrible sensation and I found myself wondering what it would be like to go up and give my old friend a hug. But at the same time I questioned if I should even say anything to her.
Michael told me I should. He was probably right. I walked up to her car and was nearly certain she was avoiding looking my way. I knocked on her window so that she had no choice but to respond. As Michael helped Kenny load stuff into their car, Kelli and I chatted.
No. That's not right. It wasn't much of a chat.
Have you ever been with someone who obviously doesn't know who you are but doesn't want to admit it? It was almost, but not quite, the complete opposite of that. At least in that case the person tries to pretend that nothing is wrong.
There was no doubt in my mind that Kelli did not want to be talking to me at that moment. She answered my questions with one worded answers. She asked the same questions in return to be polite but didn't offer up any new ones. The akwardness was too much for me to bare so I quickly said my good byes: "Well, I thought I'd stop by and say hi. It was nice to see you and the boys again."
"Yeah, bye."
Then my family and I went back to our car and sat in silence. Well, Michael and I sat in silence as Ellie chatted away. There wasn't much to say and I'm sure that my tears told Michael that the only thing he could do was squeeze my hand. And that he did. Two or three times.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Shutdown
I'm considering closing this blog. Originally I wanted it to be about the stories that I felt would upset my family... but not necessarily a full-blown-venting session. Yet that's what it has become. There is nothing in this blog that I want to look back on and remember... so what's the point?
Perhaps by closing the blog I will no longer have a place to vent - but do I need it? I'm not sure. Every now and then I feel like venting into a blog is just making myself feel more grandiose - almost like if it's in a public forum then my thoughts must be validated. That's not the case, is it?
Perhaps by closing the blog I will come across as a person who has it all together - someone who enjoys every moment of parenthood, who has perfect children and no frustrations. After all, that's what my other blog is all about. Yes, my children are perfect, but the other stuff is not true. It's just that I don't want to remember the bad stuff, so I purposefully only write about the good stuff. Twenty years from now, I'm not going to want to look back and read about the bad.
So why would it be any different for this blog? I don't think it is.
So... consider this a warning that somday Reffin In Hiding might no longer be.
Perhaps by closing the blog I will no longer have a place to vent - but do I need it? I'm not sure. Every now and then I feel like venting into a blog is just making myself feel more grandiose - almost like if it's in a public forum then my thoughts must be validated. That's not the case, is it?
Perhaps by closing the blog I will come across as a person who has it all together - someone who enjoys every moment of parenthood, who has perfect children and no frustrations. After all, that's what my other blog is all about. Yes, my children are perfect, but the other stuff is not true. It's just that I don't want to remember the bad stuff, so I purposefully only write about the good stuff. Twenty years from now, I'm not going to want to look back and read about the bad.
So why would it be any different for this blog? I don't think it is.
So... consider this a warning that somday Reffin In Hiding might no longer be.
Friday, March 4, 2011
My Dear Sister,
I have thought long and hard about whether or not to discuss this with you and have come to no conclusion. Therefore we have this letter, of which I don't know you will ever see.
I am having a hard time coming terms with my frustration with you at the moment. You don't know this. How would you? I wouldn't be surprised if you think everything is fine and dandy. And part of the problem with me telling you otherwise is that any apology on your part would feel forced and done only because I approached you.
Flat out, I'm frustrated with the way things went down when you lived with us. I suppose it comes down to not defining our expectations well enough. Heck, who knew we had high expectations until we discovered the results were so much lower?
In a nutshell, and of course hindsight is 20/20, here is a list of the expectations we had when you moved in with us (in no particular order of relevance):
1. I would get to spend more time with my sister.
2. The girls would get to spend more time with Aunt E.
3. You LOVE to cook and LOVE to cook for others. We had 3 mouths willing to be fed (actually 4 if you count the newborn).
4. Speaking of newborn, we had one of those and it was going to be so nice to have your help given our new addition.
5. You are such a clean-freak. Not saying you'd pick up AFTER us, but it was going to be so nice to have an extra set of helping hands (especially given #4).
6. Date nights! OMG! How nice it was going to be to have a date night every now and then, where you would stay home with the girls and let us go out.
7. An extra car... with having an extra driver in the house, it would help eliviate some of the time and stress we have picking up the girls from daycare.
8. Paying no rent, just think of all the credit card debt you could pay off!
9. With you only working 3 days a week, we might actually be able to get the basement fixed up a bit for you!
10. Ten seems like such an even number.
And in a nutshell, here are the results (in the same order given above):
1. Yes, more time with sister. Yay! However, that time mostly occurred during the day (lunch and business hours). You rarely took an evening off of your date life to spend with me. And if you did, it was a late start or an early departure.
2. Yes, you saw the girls more often, but it was in spurts of 5 minutes here or there. If you happened to be in your room, Ellie could wake you up. Most of the time it was you giving her a hug on your way out the door.
3. In the 13 months you lived with us, you cooked 3 times: Once because you were hosting girls' night, once because I flat-out asked you to and once when you actually offered yourself. ONCE.
4. Speaking of newborn... yep. We had one. It was tough.
5. Cleaning - You were fantastic the first month you were with us. After that, we didn't really feel much help. Not sure it was *worse* for us. Just definitely not easier.
6. Date nights. Nope. Never got one. You did. We did not.
7. An extra car... I recall you picking up the girls a few times. Few being 2-3.
8. Yep... you claimed that you put all that money we saved you into paying off your credit card debt, yet every time you mention the numbers they increase. Huh? And what about spending the $1k for the charity formal. Sure a portion of it was for charity, but not the $300 dress and $150 hotel stay. I'm glad you got to use your shoes again, though.
9. It took us 2.5 months to paint our basement. Us being us. Not you. We only had an hour or two every night to widdle away at it. Your days were spent elsewhere. However, I did notice that it took you only 2 or 3 weeks to paint the entire floor of your home after you moved in. I'm happy for you.
10. Yep. Ten is still ten.
All this and neither M nor I feel like we ever got a "Thank you" whether it be while you were living with us or after you moved out.
I wish I wasn't so frustrated or disappointed right now. I'm surprised that M is handing it so well, though the reasoning is heartbreaking. He figures that you are who you are and that is someone who doesn't think outside of the box that is herself. Is it true you don't think of others? I hope not. I want to believe that you are a kind and considerate, thoughtful person. But as such, I find myself at a loss for an explanation.
Sigh.
I am having a hard time coming terms with my frustration with you at the moment. You don't know this. How would you? I wouldn't be surprised if you think everything is fine and dandy. And part of the problem with me telling you otherwise is that any apology on your part would feel forced and done only because I approached you.
Flat out, I'm frustrated with the way things went down when you lived with us. I suppose it comes down to not defining our expectations well enough. Heck, who knew we had high expectations until we discovered the results were so much lower?
In a nutshell, and of course hindsight is 20/20, here is a list of the expectations we had when you moved in with us (in no particular order of relevance):
1. I would get to spend more time with my sister.
2. The girls would get to spend more time with Aunt E.
3. You LOVE to cook and LOVE to cook for others. We had 3 mouths willing to be fed (actually 4 if you count the newborn).
4. Speaking of newborn, we had one of those and it was going to be so nice to have your help given our new addition.
5. You are such a clean-freak. Not saying you'd pick up AFTER us, but it was going to be so nice to have an extra set of helping hands (especially given #4).
6. Date nights! OMG! How nice it was going to be to have a date night every now and then, where you would stay home with the girls and let us go out.
7. An extra car... with having an extra driver in the house, it would help eliviate some of the time and stress we have picking up the girls from daycare.
8. Paying no rent, just think of all the credit card debt you could pay off!
9. With you only working 3 days a week, we might actually be able to get the basement fixed up a bit for you!
10. Ten seems like such an even number.
And in a nutshell, here are the results (in the same order given above):
1. Yes, more time with sister. Yay! However, that time mostly occurred during the day (lunch and business hours). You rarely took an evening off of your date life to spend with me. And if you did, it was a late start or an early departure.
2. Yes, you saw the girls more often, but it was in spurts of 5 minutes here or there. If you happened to be in your room, Ellie could wake you up. Most of the time it was you giving her a hug on your way out the door.
3. In the 13 months you lived with us, you cooked 3 times: Once because you were hosting girls' night, once because I flat-out asked you to and once when you actually offered yourself. ONCE.
4. Speaking of newborn... yep. We had one. It was tough.
5. Cleaning - You were fantastic the first month you were with us. After that, we didn't really feel much help. Not sure it was *worse* for us. Just definitely not easier.
6. Date nights. Nope. Never got one. You did. We did not.
7. An extra car... I recall you picking up the girls a few times. Few being 2-3.
8. Yep... you claimed that you put all that money we saved you into paying off your credit card debt, yet every time you mention the numbers they increase. Huh? And what about spending the $1k for the charity formal. Sure a portion of it was for charity, but not the $300 dress and $150 hotel stay. I'm glad you got to use your shoes again, though.
9. It took us 2.5 months to paint our basement. Us being us. Not you. We only had an hour or two every night to widdle away at it. Your days were spent elsewhere. However, I did notice that it took you only 2 or 3 weeks to paint the entire floor of your home after you moved in. I'm happy for you.
10. Yep. Ten is still ten.
All this and neither M nor I feel like we ever got a "Thank you" whether it be while you were living with us or after you moved out.
I wish I wasn't so frustrated or disappointed right now. I'm surprised that M is handing it so well, though the reasoning is heartbreaking. He figures that you are who you are and that is someone who doesn't think outside of the box that is herself. Is it true you don't think of others? I hope not. I want to believe that you are a kind and considerate, thoughtful person. But as such, I find myself at a loss for an explanation.
Sigh.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Wedding Dress
Years ago my sister and I were planning our weddings together. We went dress shopping together which was a lot of fun. After trying on a few nice dresses, I was in my changing room putting on the next one and I just KNEW that this was THE dress for me. Through the wall, I heard my sister come out of her dressing room and everyone gasped and complimented her on "Oh, this is THE one! This is it!"
Do you see where this story ends?
Yep, it was the same dress. I came out of my dressing room to see my sister wearing the same perfect dress. And after a 10-15 minute standoff, I finally backed down and let her have the dress. I ended up finding another that I liked a lot, though it didn't have the same instant "This is IT" feel.
Fast forward to today. For reasons I won't go into, my sister's marriage did not last. Today, my friends, that PERFECT wedding dress that I GAVE UP is on its way to the landfill.
Sometimes I'm bothered by the things I sacrifice for my sister.
Do you see where this story ends?
Yep, it was the same dress. I came out of my dressing room to see my sister wearing the same perfect dress. And after a 10-15 minute standoff, I finally backed down and let her have the dress. I ended up finding another that I liked a lot, though it didn't have the same instant "This is IT" feel.
Fast forward to today. For reasons I won't go into, my sister's marriage did not last. Today, my friends, that PERFECT wedding dress that I GAVE UP is on its way to the landfill.
Sometimes I'm bothered by the things I sacrifice for my sister.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
No words are really coming
OH. MY. GOD. Have you heard about this story? In a nutshell, a mother lost her four children (ages 3-12) AND her husband in a fire in Seattle. The article uses the words "horrific" and talks about how all she could do was scream hysterically.
Count your blessings now, Reffin. It's nearly impossible for me to fathom the pain a mother must go through at the loss of a single child, let alone four... or even her husband. All at the same time. I want to reach out and hug this woman, but I think that if it were me, I would feel like I could never get close enough to touch anyone ever again.
Is there a word that is worse than "horrific?"
Count your blessings now, Reffin. It's nearly impossible for me to fathom the pain a mother must go through at the loss of a single child, let alone four... or even her husband. All at the same time. I want to reach out and hug this woman, but I think that if it were me, I would feel like I could never get close enough to touch anyone ever again.
Is there a word that is worse than "horrific?"
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The magic of Christmas
I have a confession to make. I'm worried that Ellie won't have a "magical Christmas" like I want her to. Since we're traveling to Virginia this year, it makes the whole "Santa" thing a little tricky. Lorielle is getting the bike and jump rope that she consistantly asks Santa for but we have to leave the bike in CO. We plan to take a photo of the bike and leave a note from Santa explaining that the rules say no bikes are allowed on planes, so he had to leave it at home.
Riddle me this... how is that supposed to be MAGIC???
Riddle me this... how is that supposed to be MAGIC???
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