Sometimes my interactions with mom and dad feel almost as if we are arguing about what should be done with the most viable body left (mine). I think that's where a lot of what I term bossiness comes from. Todays sour look was brought to you by my saying I was going to pull Prissy (mom's ex dog that came to live with me) from obedience class and take Oliver because he's better suited and more likely to progress on to something else.
For me, it's just a matter of spending my time where it can do the most good. I would never run Priss in agility, she's too small and likely to be injured. She is already well mannered on a leash-so far what her life is and will be, she's done with her education (except for refresher drills, etc.).
Where I sometimes lose patience (I didn't today) is why does it even matter? I doubt Mom would go to the grand nationals if Prissy herself was competing for the high point dog of all time. For her, it's just a story I'd tell when I got home and then she would tell her cronies. I guess if the dog were Prissy, it would make her more a part of it.
Now, the stress of Daddy's upcoming tests and John's continued decline is ramping up Mom's need to control things and I will work on being more patient or at least not taking things so personally.
But possession of the body IS kind of personal, don't you think? I am such a pleaser I don't want anyone to be unhappy or worried about anything I do. I'm just not such a pleaser that I'll live my life within a 74 year old's comfort level.
I was a bit of a wild child, but I can't spend the rest of my life making up for some sleepless nights when I was a teenager. HELL, I didn't ASK to be BORN....giggle giggle. I guess the possession of the body thing is really nothing new.
6 comments:
Do you have any siblings Deb? As the youngest I was always the one who tried to be the peace keeper in the family in the midst of so much fighting. I'm still that way, peace at all costs. I'm quieter about it now and I try to distance myself from certain types of people so I don't spend so much of my time trying to "fix" every situation. As I read about your interactions with your family, I can't help but think I'm on the exact same page as you. Funny thing is I'm talking about moving back east, closer to family. I don't have my parents anymore, but there's enough disfunction for me to jump into so I can feel right at home again :) Still, as the mellow one of the family, I think I'll be waiving that peace flag even if it only makes me feel better. I admire you and your diplomacy and your love of family.
as you know i admore you too....but you DO NOT have to apologise for who you are or what you choose to do, whether about your dogs, or your own life. maybe you could listen to your mom -but hear her less, know what i mean? let it all go whoosh over you.
are you okay after bitty leaving you? i hope so, and i am sure you will find another dog to foster and help, i know you.
Hmm...let it all go whoosh...that's probably the best advice I've heard in years on how to deal with controlling parents.
I told my mom that I had lost 15 lbs and her answer was "that's great, but what is your goal? you need a goal? that's the only thing that works, so set a goal"...and then it all became blah, blah, blah.
I suggested she stop at "that's great" and leave it be...but Noooo...
Ah well, - I'll try to let it all go whoosh!
Whoosh is going to be my motto. Lolo-I'm the youngest. Part of my coming back was for ME-to work through this whole family tangle while there was still family to work with.
Mim, I finally learned to go whoosh about weight after 47 years. It's one of the few "acceptable" quantitative things they have to discuss. Since I won't discuss numbers any longer, Mom's new thing is to ask about the weight of my friends. (Shoot me if I'm lying). Not "where did they go to school" but "how much do they weigh?" or if they are a WLS person, "What did they lose, how long did it take, has it stayed off...." I usually just say I don't know, because silly me, I think that's personal information.
The whole goal thing I've come to question too. People who believe that there is a magic number on a scale, a finite point that is going to make their life all better are taking the first step towards an eating disorder. OH SHIT. Insight.
We are all looking for something that says "and they lived happily ever after"....but that isn't how life works. Getting to ANY goal is no guarantee for good times, unless you die, there is always more to follow.
it took me a very long time to overcome my guilt when i wanted to disagree with those i loved... or to tell them this is just my own business not theirs...
but when i did it at last, i found they respect me more! accept me more! and give me fewer lectures!
:D
and all those years.... phew...
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