Tag Archive: Family


Merry Christmas!

I made myself a tree…

And then I made *myself* a tree:

And My family knew just what to get me:

makeup

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I’m back!

I’m back from vacation; look at some of the awesome photos I took!

via I’m back!.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I recently discovered that my body would be fine if I chose to get pregnant; something I was told long ago was not an option.

I’ve struggled with this for the last several weeks. It has put me in a pretty bad space, mentally. 

I love my husband deeply. That will probably never change. He’s been a huge part of my life for 17 years – more than half my life.

But I’m at a point where I have to tell him that I want to be a mother… and that will end our marriage.
I don’t know how I’m going to handle this.
And, because of our work schedules, I won’t really get to see him until tomorrow night.

::sigh::

A Facebook friend recently posted a link to this Blogspot post.

I shared the post, truly believing that this woman was doing something right and good for her sons.
One of my male friends was slightly offended because – and I will agree with him slightly – this mother is making it sound like if she does not intervene now, her sons WILL rape.

Now, I refuse to be one of those women who assumes that every man out there wants to have sex with me, forcibly or not.
I refuse to be a perpetual victim of fear.
Yes, there are plenty of men (and women, too) out there that would rape me. There are plenty of folks out there that would stand by and do nothing if they saw it happen.

But I refuse to cower in the house, to avoid going out to bars, to assume that every stranger is a danger.

I am a grown woman.

But this mom, you see, is a grown woman, too.
She knows that statistically speaking, 91% of rape victims are female. 99% of rapists are male. (US Census 2008)

My friend also brought up that he thought is strange that this woman would speak so directly to boys so young. My thoughts on this are that she’s not really addressing her ‘current’ sons, but rather the men they will become. She’s probably also not going to show them her blog post when they’re old enough to understand it. This blog (much like blogs for many of us) is a vent for her, a way to reflect on society and how it affects her and her family. And, I hate to say it, it is quite fashionable these days to write about rape culture in this kind of narrative.

You see, many parents want to think that they are raising their children to love and respect others. Specifically, mothers want their little boys to be strong men who don’t hurt women.
Not every mother gets that, regardless of how hard she tries.

Overall, I like what this woman wrote. It’s not a letter to her boys; it’s a promise.
She’s promising to teach them to love and respect.
She’s promising to be accountable for (some of) their adult behaviors.
She’s promising to love them….

And to kick their asses if they dare hurt another human being.

You go, Mom!

——-

 

Sunday Bun-day!

Squee!

One of my cousins raises and shows rabbits. She recently posted this picture, and I guess there’s another litter on the way.
Totally squeedorable!

I really wish I was closer to that side of my family. When my parent’s divorced, I really didn’t spend much time with dad’s side. And, this particular branch of the family lives in MO. It’s just far enough away that it’s inconvenient for those of us with regularly-houred (Is that even a phrase? I guess it is now.) jobs have to actually plan trips – which generally doesn’t happen. We tend to see each other on Facebook or at funerals.

This cousin, and her sister, are fairly close to my age, so you’d think that we’d have something in common to bond us. And we do have a few things: Animals, tattoos (bunny cousin is an artist), love of books and movies.
But nothing has ever really clicked with us.

And I have tried reaching out… kind of. Staying connected is hard.

Oh boy, what a week!

Hubby and I celebrated with friends on Saturday – he was at an eleven-hour LAN party (Diablo II) and I went to a girls’ night party. We all met up at the end of the night and partied some more. Thankfully, I didn’t have to get up early on Sunday.

Monday, being Memorial Day, was super fun for me. Not only did I have the day off from work, a paid holiday, but I got to spend time with my sister, mom, and grandma. Sis and I drove up north about 3 hours to go to our family’s cabin. I haven’t been there since I was 12 or 14, so it’s been quite a while.

Memorial weekend is the weekend that my grandparents open up the cabins for the season. There are 2 houses up there – the old house (my grandparents’ place) and the new house (my great-grandparents’ place). Even though my great-grandparents passed away years ago and my grandfather passed three years ago, I still differentiate them that way. With the new house being, well, new, my grandma has stayed in that one rather than the old house. The electrical, water, and heat work better there. And there is a washer/dryer set and a nice, updated kitchen.

She’s getting on in years, so the little comforts like that are great.
But I’m not saying she’s old or anything. I mean, she’s only in her late 70’s. And she’s just as active and spunky as ever.

I still worry though. Since grandpa died, she hasn’t been the same. It’s expected I know, but it’s really hard seeing her age.
I grew up knowing my dad’s parents, my mom’s parents, and my moms grandparents. And by know, I mean I spent holidays and birthdays and other days with them. I spent a whole month living with great-grandma after her hip surgery to help her out. They were all alive well into my teens.

But life happens. Aging and illness happen.
My great-grandfather battled leukemia and Alzheimer’s. He was in his eighties. Great-grandma wasn’t too far behind him; she died 3 years later.
My maternal grandfather had renal cancer. He fought it for a few years, but it wore him down. That was really rough on us grand-kids. We had all grown up with him being a robust, happy man. He taught us to catch frogs, bait hooks, and clean fish. We watched him waste away. He was also in his eighties.
My paternal grandparents were almost ninety.  Grandpa got sick first. He had cancer, too. While he lay in one hospital bed, Grandma was admitted across the hall with pneumonia.
We knew it was getting close to the end for Grandpa. Most of us went to visit, to say goodbye. I saw him. I didn’t recognize him. I couldn’t bear to see him like that, so I went across the hall and spent time with Grandma. She was quiet and obviously worn down. But I chatted with her.
The morning that Grandpa died, Grandma was in particularly bad shape. She had a secondary infection.
She only lasted another 5 days. She couldn’t be away from him.

I knew them all. I love them all.
Going up to the lake is my way of connecting to a time when I still had them in my life. It’s like putting a little stop in time, even if it’s only for a day.