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I am a creative, homely and domesticated mother of two very active boys, the loving, loyal and by rare request slutty wife to my considerably older husband, a devoted daughter to my mother, uncivilized to the rest of my family and misunderstood by everyone else. Like I give a flying rats ass.

(Not Limited To) cleaning, cooking, sewing, crocheting, quilting, walking, 500 piece jigsaw puzzles, driving, web design and graphics

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the life of a mother with youth

Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Bitter Sweet...

Lately, okay for more than a month now, I've been pretty bitter. I can sit here and explain in great detail what is going on in my super personal life but it wouldn't help you to understand why I am bitter. I'd have to tell you every memory of my life - all of the way back to my childhood - and I'm just not into that sort of thing. It's almost like trying to tell someone that doesn't know how - how to tie their shoes. Sure, you tie your shoes everyday but explaining something so simple to you is almost impossible to explain to another person - especially someone that doesn't understand.

The people around me don't understand my bitterness either. If they would shut up every now and again and just listen to my silence, they would grow closer to the reasons. If they would put themselves aside and look outside of their own life, they would be even closer. These same people that do not understand are my only net. Net being what catches me if I were to fall and trust me, it would take everyone in my personal life to catch me if I were to fall.

I like doing things thoroughly but the easiest way for me. My way may not work for you and your way will most likely not work for me. This all means that I do not desire or need to know how other people do the things that I do. Occasionally, someone will have a better plan but I like the way I do things. Cooking is a great example of this. Even though I'm losing weight, I love to cook and I love to eat - more importantly, I love to eat what I cook. I need not the "expert" advise of people around me to tell me how to cook something that I've been cooking for years and have never had a complaint about (others or myself). I am the best critic of my cooking - if it is not tastey, I throw it out and start again. I've never forced my food on anyone and no one has ever complained. This all seems pretty petty but it brings me into my next bitch - Thanksgiving Dinner.

The whole meaning of Thanksgiving is to be thankful for what you have - to give thanks to others. Being that I have the largest little family in my big family, I am going to cook Thanksgiving Dinner for my little big family. Traditionally, the eldest woman in the family cooks this meal, my Granny, but since the death of my Granny, Thanksgiving has went to hell in a hand basket in my big family. Instead of the little families getting together to make a big family, the little families have their own little Thanksgiving. I am not the oldest in the big family but I am the only female in my little family, therefore I'm cooking the meal. I don't think that my Mom has confidence that I can pull this off. Instead of allowing me the pleasure of cooking the entire meal, she has insisted on cooking a number of dishes that "(I) won't get right." I let this slide. It is a big feast and I give THANKS that she understands that I have small children and may not be ready for such an accomplishment so early in the developmental stages of my children.

Historically, at least one argument takes place on Thanksgiving. This is to be expected with my family - none of us can get along. We are all opinionated. Healthy debates are good for a family and now that my sister lives in Oklahoma and my brother won't be visiting, the only people that could have an argument is my mother and me. I don't like arguing with my Mom. She gave birth to me but she doesn't understand me. Come to think of it, she hasn't truly understood me since I went to college (15 years old). This misunderstanding only got worse when my Granny passed and was far gone by the time Audrey passed. She just doesn't get me or what makes me tick. This leads me back to the tieing shoes thing - even with her.

What am I supposed to do? I've tried professional help - that was a waste of time. Explaining myself to people would take far too long and cause them bitterness too. There isn't anything that brings me complete peace or instant calmness. My family has learned to just walk away from me when I am bitter. Tomorrow, Thanksgiving, I will probably be completely fake in an attempt to have the first nonstressful holiday that my little family has ever had. Have I mentioned how hard it is for me to act like everything is okay when it really isn't?


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