Merry's Blog
Skidville Wonderland, anyone?
To the tune of Winter Wonderland, of course.
Skid bells ring, DH is listening
In the house, they are whispering
The plans are all right,
If we bring more tonight
Walking into skidville wonderland.
Gone away is my sanity
Replaced with pure profanity
We sing a skid song, as we go along
Walking into skidville wonderland
In the living room, we will open presents
And pretend that it’s with pure intent
They’ll say thank you Daddeee
He’ll say nothing
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Sure, DH, I'll handle all the hard stuff while you go chasing after your adult kids again
I've posted before about DH's kids ordering him around. They punish him if he doesn't "obey." It's gotten MUCH worse since DH's sister has been having some significant medical issues.
Brief recap: DH's sister (Auntie) lives about five hours from us. DH's brother lives about five minutes from Auntie, and the brother has all power of attorney -- legal and health care. DH and skids are very close to Auntie, and I like her too. She's been wonderful to me. I have no problem with DH making the trip to help out as he needs to or wants to. Totally supportive.
Skid worship
I hate skid worship. In my case, it has extended into adulthood.
Don't get me wrong, I love my bio completely and unconditionally. But the fact that she can make a mean peanut butter sandwich isn't really cause for balloons and glitter. I expect her to take care of herself, and the fact that she does is not a cause for celebration. I'm proud of her independence, for sure, and I tell her so.
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I have a DH problem
Not a huge problem, but he's dang irritating.
He has been acting like a lovesick puppy when it comes to his adult daughter. I have had issues with SD in the past, but other than being a know-it-all, she is generally respectful and inclusive toward me since I disengaged. Funny how that works.
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Skids should rule the world.
Because they know everything. About everything.
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Sort of O/T -- My Mom passed and all I heard was crickets
Crickets. Oh, not from everybody. DH's sister called me. My bestie called. Several others. Nice cards and flowers and donations from people at work.
My Mom was 99 and ready to go, but I will miss her. And I am grieving more intensely than I thought I would, given her age, poor health, and the relief I feel now that she is not suffering. But I'm ok with that. It's a process.
Sort of O/T -- childhood confidence
I've had a vivid and very pleasant childhood memory stick with me the last couple of days. So I told DH about it.
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