In my opinion, blogs are meant for sharing-unless it's my blog, and and I'm supposed to be sharing with my family...when it comes to them my policy is "Blog? What blog? I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." Even my mother in law who knows for certain that I have a blog (thanks to Hubby's big mouth) doesn't know where it is and when she asks me I just get all avoid-y or pretend I didn't hear her. In fact, I'm pretty sure I can say that if she did find my blog and confronted me about it I would flat out deny ownership. So if you're reading this dear relatives (including but not limited to my MIL) don't bother pointing out my picture on the bio page or the similarities to my life because I'll just pretend like you're crazy...trust me, that would not be difficult.
In reality, it's not just relatives who are blacklisted on my blog-the only people I know in real life that know about my blog are my husband and my best friend who I have known for more than ten years. Why don't I tell all the other people?
Because I wanna write what I wanna write and I don't need anybody to tell me any different.
If I want to complain about my dad or snipe about my in laws or roll my eyes at my siblings, I don't want to have to worry that it's going to bite me in the butt at Thanksgiving. I don't want my classmates involved in my private life, or my family involved in my inner thoughts so it just works better to not tell them.
Also, to be perfectly honest, it's just one more thing that my family wouldn't get. I don't think my parents even know what a blog is, my siblings don't care, and my in laws think they are a joke so you know...why bother? Let's just keep this the secret tree house.
The fortress of (extremely public) solitude that I share with only my awesome bloggy friends, my best friend, and my husband. You know-the cool kids.
Just don't tell my parents.
[This post was inspired by Writer's Workshop. Go visit Mama Kat for more!]
Showing posts with label Writers Workshop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writers Workshop. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
The Lois Lane/SuperMom Conundrum
Most people don't know that I am a top-secret-double-agent-alien-with-super-powers. It's true. When I go to school I am Lois Lane-a prompt, meticulous, passionate, dedicated, enthusiastic collegiate in a pencil skirt by day-but when I come home it's time to put on my cape (also known as running pants) and become The Kisser of Boo Boos, The Reader of Dr. Seuss, The Cooker of Dinner, The Singer of School House Rock Anthems, and The Arbiter of Tiny Arguments...the one, the only SuperMom. I love everything I do. I love being home with the kids whenever I can-I love homeschooling them and enjoy every day spent singing songs and reading books and giving cuddles-but I also love school. Learning, growing, debating, succeeding in a way that is finite and measurable [look at that 103.8% in MATH....oh yeah!] is thrilling. I see these as two separate but equally wonderful parts of my life which represent different parts of me...but when I reveal my dual identity people have a tendency to get all slack jawed.
My philosophy teacher seemed nothing less than floored when I told him I had three children, and he even got a little furrowed in the brow when I told him that we homeschool them. Telling my discussion group I had three kids was worse-the 19 year old sitting next to me kept repeating "YOU have THREE kids?! YOU?! You're a MOM?!"
Yes. I am.
I am also a PoliSci major, considering a double major in Political Science and Philosophy with a minor in Chinese Language and Culture with plans to later earn both my Masters in Business Administration and my Juris Doctorate.
Because I am Lois Lane/SuperMom.
[This post was inspired by this week's Writer's Workshop. Visit Mama Kat and check it out!]
My philosophy teacher seemed nothing less than floored when I told him I had three children, and he even got a little furrowed in the brow when I told him that we homeschool them. Telling my discussion group I had three kids was worse-the 19 year old sitting next to me kept repeating "YOU have THREE kids?! YOU?! You're a MOM?!"
Yes. I am.
I am also a PoliSci major, considering a double major in Political Science and Philosophy with a minor in Chinese Language and Culture with plans to later earn both my Masters in Business Administration and my Juris Doctorate.
Because I am Lois Lane/SuperMom.
[This post was inspired by this week's Writer's Workshop. Visit Mama Kat and check it out!]
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Writer's Workshop: Man Hunt
Way back in Ye Olden Tymes when I was a young teen, before I ever met Hubby, I had a list as long as my leg. It wasn't for Christmas presents-it was for The One. The list of all the things The One had to be and do. I'll have to admit I was pretty specific, even as a high school freshman, about the man I wanted to end up with someday-I like to think that's why my husband was the third boy I ever kissed, the second one I ever dated, and the only one I've ever slept with. Meeting the criteria for being with me was like getting in to MENSA...only harder. That's why when Mama Kat decided to ask what 50 things we look for in men during this week's Writer's Workshop, I thought it would be fun to look back and think about what I used to require (and remember all of the ways that Hubby has met and exceeded everything I ever hoped for)...
The man of my dreams...
1. Must believe in God. I prefer someone who is Christian, but unorthodox like I am.
2. Must be intelligent. The smarter the better-preferably smarter than me.
3. Must love children and want to have a bunch of their own.
4. Must be "political"-ability to debate is vital...it keeps me on my mental toes.
5. Must love to read. A love of classics in particular is a bonus.
6. Must be a total geek...thus making it easier to accept my total geekness.
7. Must be passionate. I want someone who will come home and throw me up on the counter.
8. Must be romantic. I also want someone who will write me a love-post-it and stick it on the bathroom mirror.
9. Must love to philosophize. I want long hours of discussion over the meaning of life here.
10. Must be worth staying up all night just talking to.
11. Must respect my independence, but not be afraid to put me in my place when I'm wrong.
12. Must be a protector-it's us versus the world, and I want someone whose got my back.
13. Must be kind to everyone smaller and less fortunate than he is.
14. Must be gentle in spirit and action.
15. Must be manly-that means no skinny jeans, no eyeliner, no long hair, no waxing/manicures/manscaping.
16. Must make me feel pretty, even when I'm not.
17. Must make me feel wanted, even when I'm not.
18. Must share covers nicely. (Okay so Hubby doesn't do that very well, but he's always willing to let me snuggle closer to get a corner of the blanket).
19. Must love music-especially from the 90s, 60s, 50s, and 40s in that order.
20. Must be generous toward everyone.
21. Must never, ever hit anyone except in defense of himself or the defenseless.
22. Must have never ending patience.
23. Must also have a bottomless well of forgiveness (I am super flawed).
24. Must agree never to go to bed angry.
25. Must think I'm cute without any make up on.
26. Must be sentimental, and remember the first everything.
27. Must be flexible on everything from schedules to lifestyle choices.
28. Must be open minded, even about things he disagrees with.
29. Must find my flaws endearing.
30. Must be willing to be silly. In public. Bonus points for fake accents.
31. Must sing to me, regardless of ability.
32. Must be creative-paint, draw, write, build...something.
33. Must work with his hands-because that's hot.
34. Must be willing to do marathons of all kinds. Marathon TV watching, marathon reading, marathon...other stuff.
35. Must be stable and reliable.
36. Must have an unflappable temperment.
37. Must be able to sit in silence together, each doing our own thing-and like it.
38. Must have strong arms. To lift things like heavy boxes-also good for sweeping me off my feet, which must be done at least once.
39. Must have impeccable manners, and use them as appropriate, but not be stuck up.
40. Must be loved by children and animals-because they really know how to tell a good person.
41. Must be a homebody.
42. Must appreciate what we have, not gripe about what we don't.
43. Must be a hard worker-results are not important, but effort is.
44. Must not mind when I make him open all his presents early and then insist on buying more for the actual holiday/celebration.
45. Must be able to make sense out of the following: "You know that thingy with that guy at the one thing? Wasn't that awesome?"
46. Must never, ever call me stupid. I'd prefer he didn't even think it.
47. Must be a good listener, and give good advice.
48. Must always say "I love you" before leaving the house, going to bed, or hanging up.
49. Must never be too tired for a kiss-even if I wake him up to get it.
50. Must love and respect me for who I am and accept me as I grow and change, but never try to change me.
After looking at that list, I have to say that it is even more apparent to me that Hubby is my perfect match-created especially for me by The Almighty Himself...otherwise there is just no way he could have lived up to all of that and more.
The man of my dreams...
1. Must believe in God. I prefer someone who is Christian, but unorthodox like I am.
2. Must be intelligent. The smarter the better-preferably smarter than me.
3. Must love children and want to have a bunch of their own.
4. Must be "political"-ability to debate is vital...it keeps me on my mental toes.
5. Must love to read. A love of classics in particular is a bonus.
6. Must be a total geek...thus making it easier to accept my total geekness.
7. Must be passionate. I want someone who will come home and throw me up on the counter.
8. Must be romantic. I also want someone who will write me a love-post-it and stick it on the bathroom mirror.
9. Must love to philosophize. I want long hours of discussion over the meaning of life here.
10. Must be worth staying up all night just talking to.
11. Must respect my independence, but not be afraid to put me in my place when I'm wrong.
12. Must be a protector-it's us versus the world, and I want someone whose got my back.
13. Must be kind to everyone smaller and less fortunate than he is.
14. Must be gentle in spirit and action.
15. Must be manly-that means no skinny jeans, no eyeliner, no long hair, no waxing/manicures/manscaping.
16. Must make me feel pretty, even when I'm not.
17. Must make me feel wanted, even when I'm not.
18. Must share covers nicely. (Okay so Hubby doesn't do that very well, but he's always willing to let me snuggle closer to get a corner of the blanket).
19. Must love music-especially from the 90s, 60s, 50s, and 40s in that order.
20. Must be generous toward everyone.
21. Must never, ever hit anyone except in defense of himself or the defenseless.
22. Must have never ending patience.
23. Must also have a bottomless well of forgiveness (I am super flawed).
24. Must agree never to go to bed angry.
25. Must think I'm cute without any make up on.
26. Must be sentimental, and remember the first everything.
27. Must be flexible on everything from schedules to lifestyle choices.
28. Must be open minded, even about things he disagrees with.
29. Must find my flaws endearing.
30. Must be willing to be silly. In public. Bonus points for fake accents.
31. Must sing to me, regardless of ability.
32. Must be creative-paint, draw, write, build...something.
33. Must work with his hands-because that's hot.
34. Must be willing to do marathons of all kinds. Marathon TV watching, marathon reading, marathon...other stuff.
35. Must be stable and reliable.
36. Must have an unflappable temperment.
37. Must be able to sit in silence together, each doing our own thing-and like it.
38. Must have strong arms. To lift things like heavy boxes-also good for sweeping me off my feet, which must be done at least once.
39. Must have impeccable manners, and use them as appropriate, but not be stuck up.
40. Must be loved by children and animals-because they really know how to tell a good person.
41. Must be a homebody.
42. Must appreciate what we have, not gripe about what we don't.
43. Must be a hard worker-results are not important, but effort is.
44. Must not mind when I make him open all his presents early and then insist on buying more for the actual holiday/celebration.
45. Must be able to make sense out of the following: "You know that thingy with that guy at the one thing? Wasn't that awesome?"
46. Must never, ever call me stupid. I'd prefer he didn't even think it.
47. Must be a good listener, and give good advice.
48. Must always say "I love you" before leaving the house, going to bed, or hanging up.
49. Must never be too tired for a kiss-even if I wake him up to get it.
50. Must love and respect me for who I am and accept me as I grow and change, but never try to change me.
After looking at that list, I have to say that it is even more apparent to me that Hubby is my perfect match-created especially for me by The Almighty Himself...otherwise there is just no way he could have lived up to all of that and more.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
D-I-V-O-R-C-E
This week for writer's workshop, Mama Kat wants to know about our take on the big D. Divorce is common, obviously...I'd even venture to say that the majority of people in my generation have divorced parents-and that their parents divorce rate is the reason why so many of my peeps choose cohabitation over marriage.
In my life, I do not consider divorce to be an option. After all, there is only one thing I would consider an acceptable reason to leave my husband (abuse) and that would never happen in a million years because Hubby is a gentle, honorable man.
That doesn't mean he doesn't piss me off in a bad way sometimes. I am writing this less than two hours after the biggest fight we've had in probably 6 months and I can assure you of two things-sometimes that man makes me so mad that I secretly wonder if my ears are smoking ala Yosemite Sam, and that no matter how nice it seems like it would be in those moments to take a vacay away from the hubby, I would never leave him.
Why not? Well, there are several reasons and depending on how mad I am I rely on different ones. If I'm super pissed, I just remember that I have less than radiant qualities myself and that he has stuck by me in spite of them. If I am red-hot-lava-pissed I remind myself that my life, while temporarily less complicated, would be miserable without him. If I am super nova, erupting volcano, Yosemite Sam pissed I make sure to tell myself--I am an honorable person and I stand by my word. I gave my word to God and to this man that I would stand beside him until death do us part in good times and in bad-and nobody was kidding about the bad part. If I focus on my vow, I inevitably think of the other part (you know, the good part), of how my life is so much better because of my husband and how lost I would be without him, and ultimately (no matter how pissed I was) I always come back to how grateful I am that he honors his vows when I am acting like a mule headed toddler.
Then I apologize for acting like a giant stubborn whiny baby pee pants, for which he always forgives me, and he apologizes for being a jerk, for which I always forgive him, and all is well. I'm not saying that no one should ever get divorced-other people's marriages are none of my business-but when I think of the big D I know in my heart that it will never be the solution in my marriage.
Do you have an opinion about divorce? Want to check out the other topics? Visit Mama Kat this week!
In my life, I do not consider divorce to be an option. After all, there is only one thing I would consider an acceptable reason to leave my husband (abuse) and that would never happen in a million years because Hubby is a gentle, honorable man.
That doesn't mean he doesn't piss me off in a bad way sometimes. I am writing this less than two hours after the biggest fight we've had in probably 6 months and I can assure you of two things-sometimes that man makes me so mad that I secretly wonder if my ears are smoking ala Yosemite Sam, and that no matter how nice it seems like it would be in those moments to take a vacay away from the hubby, I would never leave him.
Why not? Well, there are several reasons and depending on how mad I am I rely on different ones. If I'm super pissed, I just remember that I have less than radiant qualities myself and that he has stuck by me in spite of them. If I am red-hot-lava-pissed I remind myself that my life, while temporarily less complicated, would be miserable without him. If I am super nova, erupting volcano, Yosemite Sam pissed I make sure to tell myself--I am an honorable person and I stand by my word. I gave my word to God and to this man that I would stand beside him until death do us part in good times and in bad-and nobody was kidding about the bad part. If I focus on my vow, I inevitably think of the other part (you know, the good part), of how my life is so much better because of my husband and how lost I would be without him, and ultimately (no matter how pissed I was) I always come back to how grateful I am that he honors his vows when I am acting like a mule headed toddler.
Then I apologize for acting like a giant stubborn whiny baby pee pants, for which he always forgives me, and he apologizes for being a jerk, for which I always forgive him, and all is well. I'm not saying that no one should ever get divorced-other people's marriages are none of my business-but when I think of the big D I know in my heart that it will never be the solution in my marriage.
Do you have an opinion about divorce? Want to check out the other topics? Visit Mama Kat this week!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Buy It Now
This week for Writer's Workshop, Mama Kat asked us to name our top ten spring trends. I thought it would be fun to do that prompt because I am seriously THE most fashionless woman on the planet. Ask anyone I know-I wear exactly what I want to wear, which has been pretty much the same since the beginning of time. I am trend-proof. Still, here are five things (you think I can come up with ten?) that I have always loved that I am glad to see again. Hello old friends....
Ripped jeans are back from the dead! (Or so says my Google research) That's pretty convenient since I am both broke and a fan of comfy worn in pants.
I may be totally dense when it comes fashion and trends and stuff, but when the things I love start popping up in stores all the time I can only think one thing-I better buy them up fast before they disappear again!
Polka dots are back!! I am so glad because I wear them whenever possible. Now I can be cool again (for a minute).
Knee high socks! I am so ahead of this curve, baby. I bought TWO pairs this winter and wear them all the time. Maybe now that they're cool people will stop rolling their eyes at me.
Ripped jeans are back from the dead! (Or so says my Google research) That's pretty convenient since I am both broke and a fan of comfy worn in pants.
Boyfriend sweaters-yay again! I love long baggy sweaters-they are my preferred kind, especially when they come in cardigan form.
Bring me your pastels and florals, your ruffles and your your silky fabrics-feminine is in again! And seriously, I'm so glad.
I may be totally dense when it comes fashion and trends and stuff, but when the things I love start popping up in stores all the time I can only think one thing-I better buy them up fast before they disappear again!
Friday, March 19, 2010
When I Grow Up
I've mentioned before what a precocious little girl I was, but those family stories really are not even the half of it. My parents used to tell people I was "going on 40" (as in 4 going on 40)--I didn't want to be a grown up I thought I was a grown up.
It made sense according to my own logic-I can hold adult conversations, I have many adult responsibilities, and I am just as smart as any adult (yes I can vividly recall thinking exactly that) so why shouldn't I be treated as an equal?
My parents always told me "because you're three (or four or five or six....) that's why" and in response I always said "age is just a number". I still maintain that is a logical argument!
I'm sure I was a joy to raise.
When I was in fourth grade I took my first for-real-actually-counts-on-your-permanent-record standardized test. If my parents had known what was good for them, they probably would have opted me out.
They gave me all the tests for my grade level and I returned with a literally perfect score. Then, following state protocol, they began handing me harder and harder tests to asses my "actual academic grade level". They kept going and kept going and then one day, much to my disappointment (I know, what kind of nerd was I?!) they stopped. My teacher told me that I was not scheduled for any more tests and I was crushed (seriously-nerd alert). In an effort to relieve me my poor, poor misguided fourth grade teacher told me,
"Don't worry-you aren't scheduled for more tests because there aren't anymore tests. If there were, I would give them to you I promise."
"There aren't any more tests?" I remember asking skeptically.
"That's right. You passed them all."
"What does that mean as far as my academic grade level?" Yes, at 8 years old I can guarantee you that I actually said 'academic grade level'.
"It means that you have tested on an collegiate level in all subjects."
"So I could be in college right now?"
"Academically, yes I suppose."
She had no idea what kind of monster she was feeding. Hers was a hand too close to the crocodile tank and I was only too happy to bite it off. From that moment on I was utterly convinced that I was in every way equal to adults. No body could tell me or order me to do anything-they had to convince me that their request (and I always saw it as such) was the most logical course of action.
Clean my room? Why?
Do my homework? Why?
Go to bed? Why?
This last November I turned 24 and I have to admit that in some ways I am the same-I still don't take orders from anybody, and I still demand to be treated as an equal regardless of my age (although now more people are willing to concede that). I have however learned one especially important lesson-you don't know everything until you realize that you don't know anything.
That doesn't mean that you can't know and understand facts and figures, or even be intellectual and philosophical, but just because you comprehend some things here and there-maybe even a lot of things here and there-doesn't mean you know squat. The wisest people know that many things are unknowable and it is far better to be wise than it is to be smart.
Don't you worry though-God definitely got me back on this one. I've learned my lesson about what it means to be a wise adult rather than a smart (mouthed) kid--and now I have my own little Monkey who needs me to teach him about why he isn't a grown up yet.
Is that irony or justice? Maybe a little of both...
[Have more fun over at Mama Kat's place during Writer's Workshop!]
It made sense according to my own logic-I can hold adult conversations, I have many adult responsibilities, and I am just as smart as any adult (yes I can vividly recall thinking exactly that) so why shouldn't I be treated as an equal?
My parents always told me "because you're three (or four or five or six....) that's why" and in response I always said "age is just a number". I still maintain that is a logical argument!
I'm sure I was a joy to raise.
When I was in fourth grade I took my first for-real-actually-counts-on-your-permanent-record standardized test. If my parents had known what was good for them, they probably would have opted me out.
They gave me all the tests for my grade level and I returned with a literally perfect score. Then, following state protocol, they began handing me harder and harder tests to asses my "actual academic grade level". They kept going and kept going and then one day, much to my disappointment (I know, what kind of nerd was I?!) they stopped. My teacher told me that I was not scheduled for any more tests and I was crushed (seriously-nerd alert). In an effort to relieve me my poor, poor misguided fourth grade teacher told me,
"Don't worry-you aren't scheduled for more tests because there aren't anymore tests. If there were, I would give them to you I promise."
"There aren't any more tests?" I remember asking skeptically.
"That's right. You passed them all."
"What does that mean as far as my academic grade level?" Yes, at 8 years old I can guarantee you that I actually said 'academic grade level'.
"It means that you have tested on an collegiate level in all subjects."
"So I could be in college right now?"
"Academically, yes I suppose."
She had no idea what kind of monster she was feeding. Hers was a hand too close to the crocodile tank and I was only too happy to bite it off. From that moment on I was utterly convinced that I was in every way equal to adults. No body could tell me or order me to do anything-they had to convince me that their request (and I always saw it as such) was the most logical course of action.
Clean my room? Why?
Do my homework? Why?
Go to bed? Why?
This last November I turned 24 and I have to admit that in some ways I am the same-I still don't take orders from anybody, and I still demand to be treated as an equal regardless of my age (although now more people are willing to concede that). I have however learned one especially important lesson-you don't know everything until you realize that you don't know anything.
That doesn't mean that you can't know and understand facts and figures, or even be intellectual and philosophical, but just because you comprehend some things here and there-maybe even a lot of things here and there-doesn't mean you know squat. The wisest people know that many things are unknowable and it is far better to be wise than it is to be smart.
Don't you worry though-God definitely got me back on this one. I've learned my lesson about what it means to be a wise adult rather than a smart (mouthed) kid--and now I have my own little Monkey who needs me to teach him about why he isn't a grown up yet.
Is that irony or justice? Maybe a little of both...
[Have more fun over at Mama Kat's place during Writer's Workshop!]
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Spring in My Step
I adore spring for a million reasons. Fresh berries, lilacs blooming, new gardens...I love warm rain and sun showers and I love when the entire neighborhood is just starting to turn green and pink and white. And the way spring smells is much better than fall, though it is a similar temperature-spring smells like fresh laundry. Clean. Vibrant.I love the way spring makes me want to slip my feet out of my shoes and scrunch my toes in the new grass...just for a minute until they get too cold. Every year I look forward to opening up the blinds and filling my house with beautiful yellows and oranges and taking my first sun nap of the year. I can't wait to see the kidlets run and play outside; to see them digging in the dirt and bringing rocks and sticks-treasures-inside for their nature boxes. There is nothing more beautiful than a Pacific Northwest spring-everything from the first Robin to the smell of Evergreens in the sun just makes you feel alive.
Spring is a new beginning-in nature and, often, in my life. I started my life on my own in the spring of 2002. In the spring of 2004 I became a mother for the first time. To me, it's more than a season of nature spring is a season of life-and I like to think that this year, this spring, will be a wonderful start to a new beginning of our lives. A clean slate...and we can write whatever we want to on it. I want this spring to be as wonderful in our lives as it is out doors. I just know THIS will be our year to bloom.
Happy Spring everybody!
For More fun stuff Visit Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Picture This
This week's Writer's Workshop assignment from Mama Kat is to pick up a magazine and write about the first picture that inspires us. Lucky for you, the only magazines I have in the house are one three year old Cosmo that has an interview with my favorite actress and a bunch of political magazines.
And so, without further ado, my thoughts on the pictures in these magazines...
What Do The Obscenely Rich Spend Their Money On?
A Haiku
Ben Bernanke prints
All of the money we have
can't he dye his beard?
Attention Fashion Model A
You cannot tell me you're not hungry
I'm hungry just looking at you.
Please have my donut,
I won't tell anybody,
You could really stand to gain a few.
And so, without further ado, my thoughts on the pictures in these magazines...
What Do The Obscenely Rich Spend Their Money On?
A Haiku
Ben Bernanke prints
All of the money we have
can't he dye his beard?
Attention Fashion Model A
You cannot tell me you're not hungry
I'm hungry just looking at you.
Please have my donut,
I won't tell anybody,
You could really stand to gain a few.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
What's in a Name?
My name is Mrs. M. Unlike my given name which was presumably chosen at random by my parents for no particular reason besides the fact that neither of them hated it, my last name is something I chose. Something that has both been earned by my honesty and loyalty and gifted to me out of love. My name is very precious to me-it reminds me that no matter where I go I am always a part of my husband. That he is my family (with the kidlets of course)-we share a home, a life, our hearts, and our destiny. My last name is a commitment-that he will be with me always and that I will follow him all of my days. It is a daily reminder of my love for my husband, and of my new and wonderful life with him. We've been together for more than seven years now and I still get excited when a telemarketer calls me Mrs. M. I even love signing my name-it just suits me, just as perfectly as Hubby suits me.I love my name and everything it means, and I will never trade it.
......If you want to participate in Writer's Workshop, go over and check out Mama Kat's blog.....
Friday, January 8, 2010
The Scum Between My Toes
I sat down to write about a fight that I've had with my parents and the truth is, I can't think of any. Not that we have never fought, but the last time we really argued was when I was sixteen and that was so long ago I can't even remember what it was about. Now that I am an adult (and I don't live with them, that's probably key) my parents are accepting and laid back and haven't had many ill words to say to me. I also don't fight with my in laws-but not for lack of things to argue about. See, Hubby and I decided a long time ago to let him deal with our relationships in his family and let me deal with our relationships in mine-so my job is to bite my tongue and say whatever it is that Hubby has decided I can say to them. It usually involves a lot of talking about the weather. Still, the Writer's Workshop prompt from Mama Kat this week says that the fight can be real or imaginary so this is the imaginary fight (or furious diatribe rather) that I would have for my in laws should I be left to my own devices with them.
Attention assorted in laws:
You should all be very, very ashamed of yourselves. Even though my husband did manage to become a wonderful person in spite-yes IN SPITE-of all of you, don't yo
u DARE take credit for the way he turned out. You have been hurtful, neglectful, and just plain insufferable towards him as long as I have have known you and, from what I can gather, since the beginning of time. When I hear how you have abandoned him, ignored him, berated him, misjudged him, and underestimated him his entire life it literally makes me want to vomit. You are disgusting.
I know you say that I am not good enough for him and the truth is that most days I agree with you-but I believe God brought us to each other and I work hard, every day, to be worthy of him. You, however, take him for granted. You ignore him or worse! You treat him like he is something to be ashamed of! You favor your other children with your new spouses and treat the man that I love like he was a mistake. A mistake! And how does he treat you? With honor. With forgiveness. With compassion and empathy and kindness that you never give him. I may not be good enough, but you people don't deserve him at all.
You are missing out on the most amazing person that any of us will ever know. My husband is the embodiment of integrity, intelligence, and personal strength. He gladly sacrifices his own happiness to be around you when you'll have him near. He is humble and generous and he gives from his heart. He is thoughtful and chivalrous. He is GOOD. I however am not. If it were up to me I would tell you all to take a long walk off a short cliff if you can't appreciate him for everything wonderful that he is...luckily for you it's up to him, and he is gracious and forgiving of your flaws and poor judgment. As such you may stay in our lives on his good graces and I will say nothing more except this: if I think for one moment that any of you have hurt my husband in a way that I deem to be unforgivable I will rip off your heads and use them as kick balls.
Continue about your day.
Attention assorted in laws:
You should all be very, very ashamed of yourselves. Even though my husband did manage to become a wonderful person in spite-yes IN SPITE-of all of you, don't yo
u DARE take credit for the way he turned out. You have been hurtful, neglectful, and just plain insufferable towards him as long as I have have known you and, from what I can gather, since the beginning of time. When I hear how you have abandoned him, ignored him, berated him, misjudged him, and underestimated him his entire life it literally makes me want to vomit. You are disgusting.I know you say that I am not good enough for him and the truth is that most days I agree with you-but I believe God brought us to each other and I work hard, every day, to be worthy of him. You, however, take him for granted. You ignore him or worse! You treat him like he is something to be ashamed of! You favor your other children with your new spouses and treat the man that I love like he was a mistake. A mistake! And how does he treat you? With honor. With forgiveness. With compassion and empathy and kindness that you never give him. I may not be good enough, but you people don't deserve him at all.
You are missing out on the most amazing person that any of us will ever know. My husband is the embodiment of integrity, intelligence, and personal strength. He gladly sacrifices his own happiness to be around you when you'll have him near. He is humble and generous and he gives from his heart. He is thoughtful and chivalrous. He is GOOD. I however am not. If it were up to me I would tell you all to take a long walk off a short cliff if you can't appreciate him for everything wonderful that he is...luckily for you it's up to him, and he is gracious and forgiving of your flaws and poor judgment. As such you may stay in our lives on his good graces and I will say nothing more except this: if I think for one moment that any of you have hurt my husband in a way that I deem to be unforgivable I will rip off your heads and use them as kick balls.
Continue about your day.
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