I brought a fresh cup of coffee to my 8:30 counseling session with my blog today. Seems life continues to hand me more fodder for ‘Surviving Narcissism’. This is where I get to use expressions like, “The proof is in the pudding”, “It’s time to take the gloves off”, and (hopefully), “He never knew what hit him.”
I’m using ALL the narcissism tags for this post.
Mark didn’t get to spend a lot of time with the kids this last weekend. Grandma and Grandpa returned from wintering in Arizona, and the kids needed some serious spoiling time. So when Mark called Monday night, I wasn’t surprised to hear his characteristic what-about-me, martyr voice. He said, “You have told me to make them a priority, and when I try to see them, they are too busy with your folks. How am I supposed to fit into their schedule?” I explained that they hadn’t seen grandma for four months, but that they would be available on Tuesday afternoon.
What I wanted to say was, “I asked you, 11 years ago, to make Will a priority. That’s one helluva ‘To-Do List” you’ve got there. You’re just now getting around to making them a priority?”
Three hours into Tuesday’s visit, I walked out to the front yard with my new spine-enhanced posture and said, “We need to cap these visits at three hours. I don’t like being held hostage in my own house.” He sarcastically said, “I would love to have these visits at my house.” I reminded him that the visits at his house would be three hours in length (no over-nighters) and would include both kids at the same time. He frickin’ asked me why the kids wouldn’t be allowed to spend the night. Continue reading →
A long time ago, I realized I couldn’t really boss my kids around. Oh sure, I could, but I’d be annihilating their spirits in the process. I’m not that kind of mom. There are probably a lot of parents that do a great job being the boss all the time (I doubt it), and it’s good for the three of us to remember that I am the boss. But, there is a lot of truth in being selective about which battles to pick.
a dream… Every so often, one of us would lose grip on our side of the table, and the legs would scrape against the sidewalk. The scraping sound seemed to echo in this warm, starlit night. It was close to midnight, and there wasn’t a hint of a breeze. I found myself wishing for a wind that would muffle the sounds of our shuffling and scraping. The three of us were carrying a large picnic table from house to house, sneaking into garages, trying to find a can of paint.
Hola Friends,
“And that is another great example of how there are so many different ways to make a living.” My grandfather used to say that. He’d had his share of different careers – mechanic, draftsman, lumber yard manager and more that I can’t remember. We’d be playing Yahtzee, visiting about someone we both knew, and he’d marvel at how the world was changing and people were finding new and interesting ways to make a living.
What is worse – having a narcissistic father that fights for custody and makes the kids’ lives miserable on a daily basis, or having a narcissistic father who wants nothing to do with his children, if they won’t do things his way? I think Will and Jenny have it better. While they will certainly be hurt by the fact that their dad can so easily walk away, they won’t have to deal with the day-to-day dismissals of who they are. They won’t have Mark belittling them or using them as extensions of himself.
This is a picture of the cardboard iPod that Jenny made. She brought it skiing today. Her brother got one for Christmas, and she wants to be a ‘cool kid’, too, so she made her own. At lunch, in the lodge, she was playing with her ‘iPod’, and Will said, “Jen, some people are laughing at your iPod.” Jenny defiantly said, “So what!” I hope she’s able to maintain that attitude. Later, she asked if I wanted a pretend iPod. I wanted to say, “Nah. No thanks, honey. I’ve had a pretend boyfriend for almost 3 years. I’m done pretending for awhile.
I don’t like watching people eat live, slimy, crawling insects. In the old days, I watched the reality TV show, 
