Posts Tagged: love


12
Apr 10

As The Narcissist’s World Turns

Dammit.  I don’t really want to write about this.  I so want to be done with all of this.  It is more of what I’ve already written.  It is more of what others have already written on the subject of narcissism.  But I have made a commitment to myself, and ultimately, to anyone who takes the time to read this blog – that person who, in the middle of the night, when sleep won’t come, desperately searches the internet in hopes of finding answers.  This is for those who still cling to the possibility that things could work out, that hope and goodness will prevail.

I have to write for them.

It started Sunday morning when the kids opened their in-boxes.   Mark wrote them each an email.  In Will’s email, he explained that I had indicated that Will would be calling.  Mark twisted things around, again, and made it sound like we were wanting the dust to settle, and would get in touch when we were ready.  He forgot the part about the kids expecting initiative and change on Mark’s part.  Mark’s email to Jen sounded like he was picking up where he’d left off, and that nothing had ever happened.

So…  the kids wrote emails saying they did not want to see him until he made it clear that he was ready to treat Jen like she’s seven years old, and that he demonstrates to Will that he is ready to make Jen and Will priorities.  The kids were pretty agitated that Mark would expect that he wouldn’t have to do anything, and that everyone would pick up where things had been left.

We’ve seen this too many times. Continue reading →


10
Apr 10

“If A Guy…” or Annie’s Dad – Part 2

I’m pretty sure Annie has ESP.  I can think of a half dozen times when I’d be seriously struggling and the phone would ring and Annie would say, “What’s going on?  I felt like I was supposed to call.”  I wish I could say that I’ve done that for her.  When the kids and I moved out of Mark’s house, I hadn’t told many friends.  A couple days after we moved into mom’s, Annie had stopped at Mark’s business and asked of me.   She’d had a feeling something was up and called me at mom’s.  She’s that kind of person.  She’s very intuitive.

I met Annie about 20 years ago.  I was working the front counter at a sandwich/deli place.  This tall woman with two darling little girls walks in, and she’s wearing the same skirt that I was wearing.  That’s only weird because I’d ordered the skirt from a catalog, so she must have ordered it from the same catalog.

Her kids are older than mine.  She’s an involved mom who helps run the family business, volunteers her time at her church and heads a group at the museum.  We don’t see each other often, but we always pick up where we leave off.

Sometimes it feels like I’ve known her longer than I have.  Maybe we knew each other in another life.  Actually, I’m pretty sure I was married to her dad in another incarnation. ;) Stan and I didn’t have the timing right for this life, so I’m sure we connected in another life.  And so I’ve ‘known’ Annie for a long time.

After I got to know her, we’d be gabbing over coffee, and she’d willingly share a cooking tip, and she’d start it with, “If a guy…..”  It would be something like, “If a guy had some cooked chicken and some blue cheese, you could make….”  Or, “If a guy wanted to plant some eucalyptus, he’d do it on the west side of the house.”  And I’d giggle to myself each time she’d say, “If a guy…”  It’s not like I’m carrying the banner for womens’ rights or fighting the good fight for equal wages and all that stuff (although I can get on a soap box just like any other woman, given enough wine) but it used to crack me up that she’d say, “If a guy…” Continue reading →


7
Apr 10

Cookies with the Girls

barbies-tea-partyAnother one for the “If All Else Fails” File.  Make cookies and have the girls over.  I had to follow the last downer of a post with something happier.  Will and I scooped the chocolate chip cookie dough, and Jen scooped teensy tiny cookies for Barbie and Sophie.  She baked them off in the toaster oven and invited me and Will to a party.  That’s a miniature bowl of frosting next to the plate of cookies.

About a year ago, I was telling the kids that one day after school, when I was in about 5th or 6th grade, while mom was at work,  I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies.  Only I didn’t bake them.  My brother and I sat and watched “The Brady Bunch” and ate the whole bowl of raw cookie dough.

Sometimes I just can’t stop stuff from exiting my mouth.  It enters my brain and high tails it out of my mouth before I even give thought to deploying the filters.

Will wants to know when he will get to eat a bowl of cookie dough.

I guess it’s good that he hasn’t figured out that he’s supposed to sneak behind my back to do something like that. Continue reading →


7
Apr 10

When Accommodators Cave

“Please!  Someone whack my knuckles with a ruler.  Now!”  That was the plea I sent out to the Twitter Universe a few weeks ago.  I was trying desperately to prevent myself from emailing John.  Annie, bless her heart, sent back a virtual whacking that sounded something like, “There.  You’ve been whacked.”

And the next night I caved.

It had been 16 whole, long, sad, dreary days since I’d sent him an email or received anything from him.  Truth be told, he was out of cell range or internet access, and he couldn’t communicate.  (Although, I don’t know that he’d actually have written, if I hadn’t written first.)  On the 16th night I couldn’t stop my fingers.  I sent an email that said I missed him.

He wrote back, within 13 minutes, to say that he missed me.

Here’s a brief list of things that I just don’t understand: Continue reading →


6
Apr 10

Life Lessons and Lamb Poop

4-minutes-old“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.

Today the kids and I got to see a way of life that hasn’t changed much.  A dear friend invited us to see what goes on during lambing.  It was 39 degrees with low gray clouds that  just started to release snow when we pulled up to the old barn.  There were sheep everywhere, and lambs anywhere from two minutes old to a couple days old.

I wasn’t sure how Jen and Will would take to the whole thing.  It was cold and muddy and smelly and wet.

They jumped right in.

They could hardly wait to scoop up these newborn lambs.  They got to bottle feed the bum lambs – the ones that are rejected by their moms.  It requires a thick skin to do this for a living – you can’t possibly save all the rejected lambs.  I thought we’d end up with a car full of new pets.  It can be cruel, but the process is so labor-intensive and exhausting, that it doesn’t leave much time for tears over the sickly ones. Continue reading →


5
Apr 10

Celebrate

Phyllis,

Congratulations on your Independence Day.

You are amazing!!!

sending hugs and bouquets …


5
Apr 10

When ‘Go To Hell’ Doesn’t Cut It

Will looked at me and said, “I can’t get dis futtin’ thing open!”  Stupidly, I said, “What did you just say?”  Then his chubby little fingers handed me his juice pouch while his humongous brown eyes peered through his Harry Potter glasses, and he frustratedly said, “Mom!  I can’t get dis futtin’ thing open!”

We were surrounded by little preschoolers, their adoring parents and the preschool teacher.  It was just a few days after a couple parents approached me about the possibility of my taking the position of President of our little parent-run preschool.  I grabbed Will’s juice pouch, muttered something under my breath while looking down so that none of them would notice that I was blushing,  poked the straw in the pouch, and was squirted with a steady stream of sugary apple juice – my payment for being a ‘bad’ mommy.

__________

I try to work on my language.  I think I’m making progress.  I never have been convinced that saying bad words is any kind of an indication of a character flaw.  However, with two little people that parrot everything I do and say, it behooves me to rein in on the language a bit.

While I do release the occasional f-bomb, I don’t direct it at others. Continue reading →


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 →


2
Apr 10

Mexican Salad and ‘The Good Witch’

mexican-saladWhat 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.

In Mark’s lengthy email, he had asked me what I proposed as a solution to this problem – like he’d actually entertain any of my suggestions.  He hinted at the possibility of resorting to calling lawyers again, and forcing visitation.  I speculated that things would go something like this:

  • He wouldn’t call the attorney because, after himself, and above all else, money is the most important thing to him.  Attorneys cost money.
  • He would not agree to adapt his behavior in an effort to have a better relationship with these two precious people.
  • I guessed that he would not address any of the kids’ requests.  I was pretty convinced that he’d tell them he was trying his best and that he loved them.  Then, as per usual, he would not call a couple days and wait for the dust to settle.  Then, on about the fifth day of no contact, he’d call, and with his sing/song voice, he’d invite them to do something, pretending like nothing had ever happened.

I did not guess that he would walk away from his kids.  I did not let myself believe that he was as low as he apparently is.  I did not see that coming, even though I have written about the fact that, if the accommodator stops being the source, the narcissist will completely dismiss her, and search for a new source.  And there lies the trap in all this.  As schooled as I may think I am in all this narcissism stuff, there is still something (frickin’ Lizard Brain) that makes it hard to comprehend that another individual – someone I thought I knew, and loved – is capable of such things.

__________ Continue reading →


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 →


30
Mar 10

The Guy With The Alex de Grassi Album

I’m tired of reading about how women don’t like the nice guys.  I know they are out there.  I’d like to like one, I just don’t know how to act around a nice guy.

My imprinting didn’t include any instructions on what to do when a guy is nice.

I was telling someone the other day that I do real well opening up if I’m not worried about whether I’m liked or not.  But if I’m in a relationship, and I’m asked personal stuff, I hesitate to reveal much because he might hear something he doesn’t like.  And then where would that leave me?  There’s too much at stake.

I didn’t say that any of this would make sense.

  Continue reading →


28
Mar 10

The Wise Father

It is a wise father who knows his own child.
William Shakespeare

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 →


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?


24
Mar 10

Narcissism And Prayer

Sometimes I think that just not thinking of oneself is a form of prayer.
Barbara Grizzuti Harrison