Posts Tagged: humor

Moving On — 3 Comments
3
Apr 10

Survivor Encouragement or ‘You Go Girl’

Yesterday I received an email from Phyllis.  She’s facing a difficult weekend.  This would be a wonderful time to send a bunch of good words her way.  She is not yet divorced, but her husband has been living in a different town.  Today he is due to come by her house.  I can hear apprehension in her email.

If you’ve been reading this blog, you have read a bit about Phyllis.  She is an absolute dear, and a brave woman.  Her Independence Day is April 5th – the one year anniversary of leaving her narcissistic husband.  It has not been easy.  She has doubted her decision many times.

Phyllis has a marvelous sense of humor, so if mushy isn’t your thing, send her a funny quote or a joke.  If you’ve never commented before, this is a great time to do so.  Send some good words to Phyllis.  You’ll bolster her on this difficult journey, and you’ll see how sending kind words to someone else ends up making you feel better, too.

Phyllis has a son and a daughter who are a tremendous support for her.  But, this weekend she could use all the encouragement she can get.  Please think about sending a couple kind words to Phyllis, in the comment section below.

  Continue reading →

Lack of Empathy / Moving On / The World Revolves Around Me / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 4 Comments
1
Apr 10

Pretending

cardboard-ipodThis 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.

__________

Speaking of pretending…

The kids emailed their dad in response to his lengthy email.  Will’s email was about the way his feelings are hurt when his dad makes fun of the things he loves; when his dad doesn’t acknowledge Will’s interests; and how Mark’s always too busy with his business to have any time for them.  Jenny’s email brought up the fact that Mark says he’s going to try – try to be interested, try to use an adult voice, try to spend time with her – and he doesn’t come through.

I insisted on reading the emails before they hit the ‘send’ button.  I wasn’t concerned about grammar and spelling as much as I was concerned about… Continue reading →

You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 4 Comments
1
Apr 10

More Survivor Humor

 

Mark and I are getting back together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

April Fools!!

  Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / Moving On / The World Revolves Around Me — Comments Off on Homeschooling and Wasbands
30
Mar 10

Homeschooling and Wasbands

Do you remember the classic “Far Side” cartoon by Gary Larson that has the funky woman talking a blue streak to her dog, and it shows what the dog hears?  The dog only hears, “blah blah blah blah, Ginger.  blah blah blah blah, Ginger.” It’s 2:30 and I can’t sleep.  I got up to write and was greeted by a 1500 word email that was written by Mark.

__________

At the risk of further cementing my membership in the loosely knit  Association of Homeschooling Weirdos, I have to tell you what I most love about this homeschooling business.  There is nothing quite like being there when they first grasp a concept.  I get to be there when that light bulb goes off, and they understand what’s in front of them, and they are filled with pride and possibility.  It’s like the looks on their faces when they learn to tie their shoes or ride a bike.  It’s something I don’t want to miss.

A few weeks ago, I was helping Will with fractions.  I love math.  I love the fluidity and fuzzy boundaries of dealing with people and relationships.  But when I’m in over my head with that relationship crap, I like to turn to something certain, like math.  Even Will says he likes math because, “There’s one right answer.”  Sometimes it’s nice to know there is ONE right answer.  So we were adding different fractions with different denominators and I was explaining that you have to “get the fractions speaking in the same language – in the same denominator.”  I have a decent understanding of what their learning styles are, and what approaches work best for helping them learn.  But, I was having a bit of a struggle with the fractions.  I put my pencil down, walked out into the living room to take a deep breath, and figure out a new approach, and I came back with a new angle.  Suddenly the light bulb went off, and he whizzed through the rest of the exercise.  It was fun for both of us.  We found a common language, and it was a thing of beauty.

NEWS FLASH:  There is NO common language with a narcissist. Continue reading →

Moving On / Quotes — 2 Comments
29
Mar 10

Speaking of Definitions

The definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
Albert Einstein
Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / Moving On — 11 Comments
28
Mar 10

The Mom as Dad

“What’s it like to have a good dad?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.”

“How is it being the mom and the dad?”  It sucks.

I can’t throw a football with a decent spiral.  I don’t know the first thing about bow hunting.  I just don’t understand why burping and farting is always funny.  I could learn these things.  I could practice and be a mom that throws an amazing spiral, but my plate is full.  I want to be a wonderful mom, but dammit, I don’t want to be a wonderful dad.  And I can’t be.  It’s not the same.  I don’t know if a boy even wants to brag about his mom being able to drive a golf ball 275 yards.  Not that I can.

The morning after the fabulous ski day with their dad, the kids were working on a fun collaboration where they were filming each other as they told about their dreams.  As luck (?) would have it, the night of the skiing incident, Jenny dreamt that John was her dad.  He taught her magic tricks and told her exciting stories, and listened as she talked about whatever popped into her head.  So Will was filming her as she gave the details of a bizarre adventure that included the three of us and John in some old, resort-like house with lots of hiding places.  The house was inhabited by these little gnome people that were made out of clay and they spent their days making wooden furniture.  She included enough details to make me think that I ought to phone Tim Burton and Johnny Depp.

In the middle of having her dream talk filmed, she burst into tears.  I figured maybe Will had done something to piss her off.  (They spend a great deal of time together.)  She came to sit on my lap and told me, through big streaming tears, “I just want a good dad.”

So the three of us sat and talked about what a good dad is, and here is their list. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 5 Comments
27
Mar 10

Due To Lack of Interest

“Due to lack of interest, tomorrow has been canceled.”  My mom had a cartoon, with that caption, pinned to the bulletin board in the kitchen.  I was old enough to read, and I’d look at that and I thought it was real.  I really thought that if we weren’t interested in anything, the world would end.  My mom was interested in her job, and keeping the house together.  I was interested in Barbies and having tea parties.  My brother was interested in Hot Wheels and shooting gophers.  I guess I figured we were doing our parts.  But that damn cartoon kept me up a lot of nights.  Could tomorrow really be canceled?  How do we keep that from happening?  Maybe that’s why I’m interested (some might call me nosey) in other people and their lives.  I’m hoping that if I’m interested enough, tomorrow won’t be canceled.

After a fabulous day in the sunshine, skiing with two amazing people who picked me to be their mom, I came to a conclusion.  We are beyond absolutely fine.  We thrive on not having to deal with Mark.  In fact, we flourish.

This is where I am, right at this moment:

“Due to lack of interest*, tomorrow** has been canceled.”

* Mark’s lack of interest in Jenny and Will Continue reading →

Lack of Empathy / The World Revolves Around Me / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 11 Comments
25
Mar 10

Proof That I’m Not a Narcissist

I’ve been trying to find an emoticon that equals “heavy sigh”.  Yesterday was a wicked day for Will and Jenny.  After some serious triage; administering Cheetos and fudge bars and a large dose of junk TV; I tucked them in their beds.  I will be spending the day focusing on repairing the damage to their egos and reminding them that life is also very funny even when it pisses you off.

However, I must tell you that I do have further proof that I AM NOT a narcissist.  I just got out of the shower and accidentally caught a full glimpse of my naked back side.  Trust me.  I would not do that on purpose.  And this flash went through my head, “That must be what my grandpa saw when my grandma got out of the shower.”  And immediately I was filled with love, sympathy and compassion for my grandpa.  That’s real empathy.  A narcissist can’t do that.

I am going to tend to my bruised children now.  And I’m going to squeeze in 37 walks up the hill at the park, in an effort to erase that vision of my grandma’s back side.  Is it too early for a shot?

Child of Narcissist / Opportunistic / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 7 Comments
24
Mar 10

The YCMTSU File

YCMTSU stands for You Can’t Make This Shit Up.

I just got off the phone with my dad.  To be honest, he called yesterday and I didn’t pick up.  I hear you gasping.   A couple months ago when I did pick up he was having some financial problems, so I was a little gun-shy yesterday.  But because I am a bad Catholic daughter, the guilt got the best of me today and I picked up.

He said he’d tried calling yesterday.  I said I was skiing.  That was a lie.  (Told you I was a bad Catholic.)  He said, “I didn’t know you were a skier.”  I said, “Dad, I’ve skied with you.  You know I’m a skier.”  He said, “I don’t have any short term memory anymore.”  I said, “Dad, I’ve been skiing for 37 years.”

He called to share a story with me.  It seems that yesterday he’d decided to “end it all”.  He’s sick of the weather, his car broke down, his renters aren’t paying and he’s done with the whole damn thing.  (Please understand that I have heard the “end it all” talk my whole life.  First, I heard it from my grandma, then my dad.  This talk is attention-getting at it’s worst.)   I reminded him that the Catholic Chrch wouldn’t really take too kindly to his committing suicide.    He said, “Well, yes.  I would go straight to hell.”  I said, “What’s the point of being a good Catholic all those years only to end it with suicide and go straight to hell?”  He said, “Well…….”

I said, “Geez, Dad, at least you could wait until the end of golf season.  You’ve got at least one more good season in ya.”  He said, “Yeah, you’re right.  I’ve been swinging really well.  I’ll rethink this thing in October.”

I said, “So did you call to give me the story of “Ending it all”?  He said, “Oh yeah, that’s right.  So I was walking to meet my buddies for lunch at Burger King.  You know, since my car broke down.  And as I was walking across the street I saw a big semi and some trucks heading for me and I thought, ‘I could do this right now.’  So I stopped in the middle of the road.  And you know what happened?  The truck in the front stopped and the semi stopped and everybody else stopped.”  I said, “Well, Dad, I guess God put his big hand down to direct traffic, huh?”  He said, “Guess who was driving the first truck that stopped.”  I said, “I don’t know, Dad, tell me.” Continue reading →

Homekeeping — 4 Comments
24
Mar 10

homekeeping

spring-windowMark took the kids skiing today.  A story is brewing.  I’ll keep you posted.  Literally.

Last night I made grand plans to concentrate on the book today.  Kids would be gone the whole day and I’d have uninterrupted time to wrap up some loose ends.  I’m hoping to have something to release before we head out on our cruise.  I’ve been reading a lot about how, if you’ve been sharing all kinds of stuff on a blog for free, your followers/readers/sisters/tribe will squawk if you expect them to start paying for content.  I haven’t done such a great job of following the advice of the ‘experts’ so far.  This blazing my own new trail is too damn fun to start following some other proven path.  I like to think that I’m being the responsible parent by setting up a counseling fund for Will and Jenny.

But before working on the book, and after checking out my favorite haunts on the web, I was going to go get some groceries before a girlfriend comes for lunch.  I canceled with her last week because I was feeling like a bad mom for spending so much time at art shows and not doing “real” school work; because I was still in a funk about John; and because my ankles were swollen.  I’m not kidding about the ankles.  I just now came out of the bathroom after putting on some mascara and dragging my fingers through my hair.  My mom would be proud of me for not leaving the house without mascara.  And then I thought, “screw it.  I’d rather write on this blog than get groceries.”  ‘Course, I’d rather do just about anything than go get groceries.

Yesterday’s blog post was huge for me.  I felt like it was taking a risk to write about God/prayer/chrch and all that icky (to me) stuff.  I was actually in tears when I hit the ‘Publish’ button.   There were huge tears of relief streaming down my cheeks.  I know when I’ve written something powerful (powerful for me, and I hope for you) – I get teary during the process.  Susan shared a tip with me about how to keep yourself from getting teary.  Hold your index finger under your nose.  Hold it perpendicular – like you are pointing  in the direction of your ear – and apply a little pressure.  It works!  But I’ve yet to figure out how to type while pressing my finger below my nose.  The acronym for finger under nose is f.u.n. Nice.

So while I was just getting ready to go to the store I was thinking about a new category for this blog.  I was going to call it “housekeeping” but I can’t come up with any positive feelings when I hear that word.  I’ve not kept it a secret that housekeeping is on the bottom of my list.  In fact, my mom called the other day, and after I answered she said, “What’s going on?  You’re out of breath.”  While panting into the phone I said, “Don’t get your hopes up.  I have my clothes on.  I was dusting furniture.  You know, blowing the dust off the tops of the furniture.”  Only there was a lot of dust and I was running out of breath. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Moving On / Recipes — 3 Comments
22
Mar 10

On Pancakes and Love

blueberry-pancakesWe eat a lot of pancakes around here, and I never make any of them.  I’m decent in the kitchen, but I’ve never been good at breakfast.  I do make great toast.  Will has been making pancakes since we moved to this house.  First, he started with Bisquick, then it was Krusteaz and then some kind of fancy, healthy buckwheat mix, and now he makes pancakes from scratch.

From the beginning, I figured that he couldn’t do a lot of damage, so I didn’t give him many tips, other than, “Don’t burn yourself.”  He likes the fact that he handles the whole project from start to finish.  I ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ a lot.  I talk about how the caramelization on this batch is perfect.  Mostly, I give him strokes, eat a couple pancakes, and clean up the mess.  Jenny doesn’t like pancakes.  Every time he makes a batch, Will asks Jen if she’d like one.  She always politely declines.  I like that Will always offers.  I like that Jen politely declines.  He isn’t bummed that she doesn’t want any; she doesn’t feel like she has to have one.

And because absolutely everything reminds me of relationships, I got to thinking about how Will’s pursuit of the perfect pancake is a lot like the work involved in a healthy relationship.  I realize that, given my track record, I may know absolutely nothing about healthy relationships.  With my complete lack of credibility in the relationship department, you may want to scroll down to the bottom for Will’s pancake recipe.

Bisquick makes a decent pancake.  It’s quick and easy and it fills you up.  Krusteaz may have a little more flavor.  They are just as simple to make, so since they have more flavor, they seem like the logical choice.  The buckwheat mix is a little harder to find, but they don’t require a lot more work, and they are healthier to eat.  Throughout the experimentation with these different pancake mixes, Will has learned the constants.  The batter shouldn’t be too thin nor too thick.  The pan has to be hot.  Butter the pan a bit before pouring in the batter.  Wait until the bubbles start popping before you flip the cake.  All of these constants apply to each type of mix.

After mastering these pre-made pancake mixes, he was ready for the big leagues.  He asked if he could find a recipe and make some from scratch.  He’d already learned that the wet things are added to the combined dry things.  He just needed a listing of what those wet and dry things were.  He’s been making scratch pancakes for over a year now.  We all marvel at how much better the from-scratch pancakes are.  They are more moist and tender.  They have this delicate sweetness and a nice crust.  There is an amazing difference, and we’re only talking pancakes here.  The scratch cakes make you want to have more than one. Continue reading →

Moving On — 2 Comments
19
Mar 10

Good Signs

peely-paint“When the moon hits your eye
Like a big-a pizza pie
That’s amore.”

Sung by a gray plastic, full moon face with lips that moved.  Will had been given this as a gift.  I believe the singing moon was some sort of yard decoration.  When Will was four, he really got a kick out of that annoying thing.  At one point, I had covered the sound holes with duct tape.

I put up with loud, obnoxious toys if those toys buy me 15 minutes to write an email, brush my teeth and go to the bathroom.

I think that moon sang for the last time at the city dump.  Will had given me permission to get rid of it.

When I first saw this little house that we call home, I knew it was perfect.  I had walked by it several times and assumed it was too small for the three of us, but the realtor talked me into taking a look. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 6 Comments
17
Mar 10

I Am A Liar

st-paddys-dayThis morning we woke to broken shortbread cookie bites and green sugar sprinkles strewn across the kitchen counter and along the floor.  A confused Barbie was standing erect in Will’s leprechaun trap.  More cookie bites were laying around Jen’s upturned trap.  No luck.  They still haven’t managed to catch a real leprechaun.

Since Will was five, our home has been annually visited by Larry the Leprechaun.  He leaves apples in Jen’s Crocs, stuffed animals in the fridge, bananas on the T.V., tips the furniture and generally wreaks havoc in a playful, good-spirited nature.  A couple years ago, the kids collaborated on a pretty brilliant trap.  The bait was a pile of coins.  On the morning of the 17th, we could see that the money was gone, and all that was left was a pair of leprechaun shoes.  That’s the closest they’ve ever gotten to actually catching Larry.

Will is a very literal fellow.  He has a single-mindedness that drives him to excel at skateboarding, skiing and golf.  It’s that same single-mindedness that makes it almost impossible for him to see the forest for the trees.  Trees, hell, he pretty much focuses on the pine needles or the dust on the  pine needles.  Jenny has a pretty broad lens.  She’s four years younger than her brother.  She’s going to figure out that Santa and Larry aren’t real long before her brother does.  I keep thinking Will is going to catch on and figure out that I’m really Larry, Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny.  But last night, we were getting ready for bed, and Will panicked.  “Dang.  Tomorrow’s the 17th and my trap isn’t done!”  He scurried around, grabbed a decorated paint can, a gawdy St. Paddy’s Day necklace, a handful of coins and some duct tape.  He definitely works better under pressure.  Jenny’s trap was completed a week ago and has been hanging – in the middle of the walkway between kitchen and dining room – from a nail.  She loaded it with a – now stale – slice of whole wheat bread and a piece of biscotti.  I figure I’ll wait a few years before telling her that the better enticement for a leprechaun would be a mug of beer.

As I’m watching Will race around the house, scrambling to put his trap together, I was asking myself some serious parenting questions.  Am I perpetuating a fun myth and prolonging the fantasies of childhood, or am I out-and-out lying?  I think I have been assuming that he would figure these myths out on his own.  At this point, I picture him looking in the mirror while shaving, and having the sudden realization that his mom is really the guy in the big red suit.

I think it’s safe to say that most parents lay awake at night contemplating their parenting skills.  I have a tape running through my mind that asks, “How much money should I be setting aside for the inevitable counseling they will need?  Was this a good idea to home school?  When do we have the sex talk?  Should I tell him about sex before I tell him about Santa?” Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Moving On — 2 Comments
16
Mar 10

More Lemonade

“Hey, Big Brother, do ya need to use the potty so you don’t have an accident?  I’m sure mom could run out and get some diapers that’d fit ya.”  Jen and I have been having a grand time teasing Will about whether he’s actually potty trained or not.

I don’t know if my kids are developing thick skins or wicked senses of humor — probably both.  They’re also learning to read moods.  Jenny was careful to let the dust settle on Will’s story – about his dad asking him if he needed to use the bathroom at the ski hill.   There is a narrow window, right after the telling of the story, where hurt feelings have to be acknowledged.  Jen and I made a point of telling Will that we imagined how mortified he must have been.  We allowed him enough time to kick rocks and say a few choice words.  But after that, it’s no holds barred.  We dish it out like crazy, make light of the situation, and have a bunch of good laughs, with Will laughing right along with us.  I’ve said before that if we don’t laugh at the weirdness of this narcissism, we’ll be spending way too much time with upset stomachs.

As Paulo Coelho says, “ If someone hurts you, react. Forgiveness comes afterwards.”  I have to think that humor has to come before forgiveness.  Actually it’s probably something more like this:

  1. get hurt
  2. react
  3. swear a lot
  4. eat junk food
  5. laugh
  6. put forgiveness on the calendar

My kids tip-toed around me for a few days after the whole John thing.  I’m making fun of myself, now, so they see that they can lighten up, too.  I informed them that, “I am pretty fabulous.  It’s just that I haven’t found anyone else who believes me.”  They both jumped to my defense and said, “Well, we think you’re fabulous!”   And then all the ‘excepts’ started.  “You’re fab except for when you yell at us.  Except for when you make me eat that stir-fry stuff.  Except for when you don’t let us watch too much T.V.”  And on and on.  When they come up with more ‘excepts’, I remind them that we’ll be cruising in May.  I’m going to get as much mileage out of that cruise as I possibly can.
 Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 3 Comments
15
Mar 10

Just When You Think There’s a Glimmer of Hope…

“Ah, Dad…  I’m actually 11 now.  Yeah, I turned 11 on my birthday.  In September?  I’m not 10, I’m 11.”  Mark and Will had gone to the sporting goods store to check out compound bows.  Will and I had been in a couple days before, and Will wanted his dad’s opinion on the bows we had talked about.  And since I’m completely clueless on the subject, it was a good idea to get another opinion, even if it was Mark’s.  So they are talking to the sales guy, asking all the pertinent questions, and Mark says, “What type of bow would you recommend for a 10 year old?”  Will later told me that even after he’d corrected his dad, Mark treated him like, “Geez, buddy, I’m your dad.  You think I don’t know how old you are?  Of course, I know how old my own son is.”

Will was pretty disgusted by the time he got home.  So much so, in fact, that he fired off an email to his dad.  The email said this:

“Today you were talking to the guy that was helping us with the archery and you said, ‘Do you have any compound bows for a ten yr old?’   By the way I’m eleven and since you are my dad I expect you to remember how old I am, and I especially do right now because I just had my birthday.”

I admit that I thought Will was overreacting a bit.  I’m often asking the kids to give me a break.  I explain that my ‘filing cabinets’ are jammed.  The manila file folders are tattered and dog-eared, and covered with coffee stains.  Some of the important papers are missing, some are filed in the wrong place, and some have yet to be filed.  This is my way of telling them that I forget stuff.  I’m old.  Sue me.  I do try really hard not to forget things, but it happens.  Their dad is 12 years older than I am, so he forgets even more than I do.  And, (don’t freak when you read this) I’ve suggested that they give their dad a break, once in awhile, too.  It wouldn’t hurt for all of us to be a little more tolerant, right?  (Said the accommodator.) Continue reading →

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