THANKFUL
Hey BoheMia, you know? I was thinking that if shit hits the fan we can always sell the BMW... that will hold us over for a good number of months, or, and don’t freak out here, I can sell a kidney. That could get us $100,000!
Yeah, not specifically the words to look forward to as soon as you step in the door from a day spent with delightful, yes, yet nevertheless rambunctious-NO-loving-demanding-verbalicious children.
Without skipping a beat...
No because I have weak kidneys and there is always the chance that either I or the kids may need one some day so no can do... you are our potential kidney factory. Plus, we shall be fine. We just need to get rid of the presence of my family and the shit shall fly off our backs.
Yeah, my family... Family, love, loyalty, sacrifice are all words foreign to my mother and my siblings. My mother reveled in showing me off in front of her acquaintances... acquaintances because a narcissist simply cannot have friends you see... Polite, girly and cute enough, well-read, well-spoken and geeky enough, and able to hold my own in intellectual conversations with adults at quite the young age, I impressed her friends.
In an attempt to impress visiting friends from Iran whose teenage daughters refused to move from my swing set, their choice space in which to do homework, and who met their match in the four-year-old-I’ll-be-damned-if-I-give-in-to-you-you-stupid-territory-invading-bitch little girl that I was, my mother put on quite the loud show when she screamed away at me, and hit me in the head a couple of times for good measure I suppose, all while whispering in my ear, in between yells and whacks, Oh give it a rest already! This is all pretend because they have to think I am angry at you about this. But I’m really not! OK? I have to keep yelling at you some more because it was rude of you, in their mind, to not give up your swing set to those girls and your putting on such a show did not help, but this is just pretend so don’t be a baby about it!
My continued crying when said guests were out of sight and my rebuffing her attempts to hug and kiss me did not sit well with her either, to put it mildly, and she let that be known in ways that only she could...
At the age of seven I had the waist the size of a three or four-year-old child. My mother proudly displayed my belt to all her friends as a visual of how teeny and petite an offspring of hers was.
Badly bothered by cigarette smoke, I would beg her to not allow anyone to smoke in our house. Ignored, because-it-was-so-politically-incorrect-to-be-anti-tobacco-and-still-is-and-so-who-was-she-to-go-against-public-opinion-and-risk-the-unheard-of-scenario-of-not-being-liked, I spent many a get-together, family gathering, dinner and the like locked in my room in a desperate attempt to breathe fresh air... well as fresh as the air inside a tightly-shut-and-sealed-100-degree-temperature-because-these-things-were-mostly-held-in-the-famously-hot-summers-of-southern-Spain room could be as the open windows allowed for intoxicated air to invade my lungs and being literally unable to breathe in such toxicity I had no choice but to shut them and yes that may sound farfetched but I am known for my famously acute sense of smell, a blessing and a curse if you will, and so that was that and...
... so I was labeled shy at first but with age these labels changed to broody, antisocial,moody, in short, problem child, me, her 4.0-GPA-sporting-No-I-cannot-sneak-out-to-hang-out-with-you-guys-because-it-goes-against-my-sense-of-right-and-wrong-and-because-I-actually-value-honesty-and-could-not-deceive-my-mother-that-way-full-time-working-live-in-maid-because-let's-face-it-that-is-all-I-ever-really-was-to-her-since-I-had-to-cook-for-and-clean-a-household-of-four-people-five-cats-and-one-dog-while-maintaining-that-damn-GPA-and-still-be-yelled-at-and-called-lazy-among-other-things daughter...
On November 15, 1982, my blonde and blue-eyed sister was born to my hey-all-look-at-me-and-how-skilled-I-am-for-I-can-make-babies-in-all-colors-so-come-on-all-and-hail-me mother and her Swedish very-first-memory-I-ever-had-of-a-father-and-knew-him-not-to-be-anything-other-than-that-because-I-had-called-him-Papi-ever-since-I-could-remember-who-easily-cast-us-away-like-yesterday's-garbage-when-given-the-chance husband giving my mother a newer, cuter and more eye-catching plaything to put on display.
My younger brother was seen in a better light than me and probably is the man-in-absolute-and-utter-denial-who-cannot-for-the-life-of-him-face-the-fact-that-our-lives-were-utterly-and-hopelessly-dysfunctional-and-so-he-gave-in-to-my-mother's-doctrine-that-I-was-to-be-the-family's-punching-bag-and-joined-in-my-emotional-and-sometimes-physical-abuse-without-giving-it-all-a-second-thought that he is today because of one too many hits in the head by my mother. You know there is something wrong when you come to caress the head of a little boy and he cowers away, hands raised in a protective gesture above his head, eyes shaking as they stutter between being open and shut... and yeah, having whacked his feet until they bled with an arrow and thrown shoes at said kid can do that too...
In retrospect, I am now flattered by her utter dislike of me as we are, after all, speaking of a woman who confided in me, when I was only nine years old, that her then boyfriend, Yanesh-the-Swede, was a married man and that that meant that she was fooling around with him behind his wife's back and oh, he had two sons to boot, by the way... When Yanesh left her after a number of months of having his way with her, she set her eyes on her boss, also a married man and could I believe that his bitch wife was suspicious of her? The nerve! Stupid woman who got in the way of her ultimate goal of seducing the boss man! But no worries, once in the US, she confided in the-then-fourteen-year-old me that she had fooled her newest catch, geriatric-and-moneyed-Bob-Goossen-who-did-nothing-but-speak-of-hunting-and-the-making-of-leather-and-anything-that-entailed-the-death-of-animals-when-around-me-just-to-spite-me-and-yes-I-had-to-put-up-with-the-trauma-of-living-with-him-which-caused-me-to-ponder-different-ways-of-murdering-a-man-and-not-getting-caught-and-though-he-is-now-dead-I-swear-I-did-not-do-it, into marrying her and that she was gonna milk it for all it was worth and get us our greencards and as much cash as she could... and she did just that... yeah, flattered.
Fastforward to this past Sunday and there we were, Loverboy, the lil' bohemians and yours truly, smack dab in the middle of dysfunction-ville as my Lil'-Mischief-hating-so-much-so-that-he-does-not-want-her-close-to-him mother tried hard to disguise the venom in her heart with superficial sweet talk directed at me while my sister sat in her short shorts, legs wide open and vulva in plain accidental view for all to see, feeding her 8 month-old son who looks nothing like his works-his-ass-off-in-a-shitty-construction-job-because-he-lacks-intelligence-ambition-or-an-education-but-in-spite-of-it-all-really-is-a-good-guy Gypsy father... not surprising seeing that my mother encouraged many a date for said loose sister behind her tattoed-and-often-shirtless-and-continually-eating skinny boyfriend and said supposed father of the sweet, pure and delightful baby that her son now-is-but-will-not-be-for-long-seeing-that-he-is-in-the-grips-of-said-sister-o'-mine-and-my-very-own-Mummy-Dearest...
Such a scene would not be complete and true to its spiteful spirit without the presence of my judgemental brother... who did not shy away from letting me know, as soon as Loverboy was outta sight, that Lil' Mischief was a spoiled brat, not-in-so-many-words-because-he-fucking-lacks-the-balls-as-he-lives-in-his-pregnant-and-former-go-go-dancer-wife's-skirt-but-there-you-have-it... who revels in the sound of his own voice as he laughs a loud and obnoxious laugh at his own tasteless jokes that are nothing more than passive-aggressive jabs, a direct result of his lacking-cojones-in-life condition, while my mother giggles away and his wife considers him the bomb!
So yeah, a day spent in a toxic-laden circus of freaks can make the best of us speak of the selling of kidneys, a mere side-effect of the desperation and depression that tends to follow such lovely and loving get-togethers... but every cloud has its silver lining and my dear raised-in-a-quirky-environment-by-my-infamous-in-laws-who-in-spite-of-my-distaste-for-their-setting-up-camp-in-my-territory-are-good-loving-decent-people Loverboy's anger at the sight that is this rampant, malicious dysfunction has the healing benefit of a deeper understanding... an understanding of his wife's numerous now-a-thing-of-the-past panic attacks, of her disassociative episodes where vicious insults were hurled at an undeserving-and-always-loving husband that he was and still is, of her anorexia and self-loathing and confusion and twisted reality that was her thought process back then as well as an understanding of her utter and sheer fear of life and... yes, an understanding that has led the way to closure at the hands of those very people that seethe with rage at the mere sight of my smile, who balk at the love and respect with which my husband treats me and who are angered by the joy present in our collective bohemian eyes revealing that in spite of our worries we are happy and hopeful and well... and thankful...
Crap, thankful foils the title I was to give this piece... My Mother, My Asshole... Oh well!
Yeah, not specifically the words to look forward to as soon as you step in the door from a day spent with delightful, yes, yet nevertheless rambunctious-NO-loving-demanding-verbalicious children.
Without skipping a beat...
No because I have weak kidneys and there is always the chance that either I or the kids may need one some day so no can do... you are our potential kidney factory. Plus, we shall be fine. We just need to get rid of the presence of my family and the shit shall fly off our backs.
Yeah, my family... Family, love, loyalty, sacrifice are all words foreign to my mother and my siblings. My mother reveled in showing me off in front of her acquaintances... acquaintances because a narcissist simply cannot have friends you see... Polite, girly and cute enough, well-read, well-spoken and geeky enough, and able to hold my own in intellectual conversations with adults at quite the young age, I impressed her friends.
In an attempt to impress visiting friends from Iran whose teenage daughters refused to move from my swing set, their choice space in which to do homework, and who met their match in the four-year-old-I’ll-be-damned-if-I-give-in-to-you-you-stupid-territory-invading-bitch little girl that I was, my mother put on quite the loud show when she screamed away at me, and hit me in the head a couple of times for good measure I suppose, all while whispering in my ear, in between yells and whacks, Oh give it a rest already! This is all pretend because they have to think I am angry at you about this. But I’m really not! OK? I have to keep yelling at you some more because it was rude of you, in their mind, to not give up your swing set to those girls and your putting on such a show did not help, but this is just pretend so don’t be a baby about it!
My continued crying when said guests were out of sight and my rebuffing her attempts to hug and kiss me did not sit well with her either, to put it mildly, and she let that be known in ways that only she could...
At the age of seven I had the waist the size of a three or four-year-old child. My mother proudly displayed my belt to all her friends as a visual of how teeny and petite an offspring of hers was.
Badly bothered by cigarette smoke, I would beg her to not allow anyone to smoke in our house. Ignored, because-it-was-so-politically-incorrect-to-be-anti-tobacco-and-still-is-and-so-who-was-she-to-go-against-public-opinion-and-risk-the-unheard-of-scenario-of-not-being-liked, I spent many a get-together, family gathering, dinner and the like locked in my room in a desperate attempt to breathe fresh air... well as fresh as the air inside a tightly-shut-and-sealed-100-degree-temperature-because-these-things-were-mostly-held-in-the-famously-hot-summers-of-southern-Spain room could be as the open windows allowed for intoxicated air to invade my lungs and being literally unable to breathe in such toxicity I had no choice but to shut them and yes that may sound farfetched but I am known for my famously acute sense of smell, a blessing and a curse if you will, and so that was that and...
... so I was labeled shy at first but with age these labels changed to broody, antisocial,moody, in short, problem child, me, her 4.0-GPA-sporting-No-I-cannot-sneak-out-to-hang-out-with-you-guys-because-it-goes-against-my-sense-of-right-and-wrong-and-because-I-actually-value-honesty-and-could-not-deceive-my-mother-that-way-full-time-working-live-in-maid-because-let's-face-it-that-is-all-I-ever-really-was-to-her-since-I-had-to-cook-for-and-clean-a-household-of-four-people-five-cats-and-one-dog-while-maintaining-that-damn-GPA-and-still-be-yelled-at-and-called-lazy-among-other-things daughter...
On November 15, 1982, my blonde and blue-eyed sister was born to my hey-all-look-at-me-and-how-skilled-I-am-for-I-can-make-babies-in-all-colors-so-come-on-all-and-hail-me mother and her Swedish very-first-memory-I-ever-had-of-a-father-and-knew-him-not-to-be-anything-other-than-that-because-I-had-called-him-Papi-ever-since-I-could-remember-who-easily-cast-us-away-like-yesterday's-garbage-when-given-the-chance husband giving my mother a newer, cuter and more eye-catching plaything to put on display.
My younger brother was seen in a better light than me and probably is the man-in-absolute-and-utter-denial-who-cannot-for-the-life-of-him-face-the-fact-that-our-lives-were-utterly-and-hopelessly-dysfunctional-and-so-he-gave-in-to-my-mother's-doctrine-that-I-was-to-be-the-family's-punching-bag-and-joined-in-my-emotional-and-sometimes-physical-abuse-without-giving-it-all-a-second-thought that he is today because of one too many hits in the head by my mother. You know there is something wrong when you come to caress the head of a little boy and he cowers away, hands raised in a protective gesture above his head, eyes shaking as they stutter between being open and shut... and yeah, having whacked his feet until they bled with an arrow and thrown shoes at said kid can do that too...
In retrospect, I am now flattered by her utter dislike of me as we are, after all, speaking of a woman who confided in me, when I was only nine years old, that her then boyfriend, Yanesh-the-Swede, was a married man and that that meant that she was fooling around with him behind his wife's back and oh, he had two sons to boot, by the way... When Yanesh left her after a number of months of having his way with her, she set her eyes on her boss, also a married man and could I believe that his bitch wife was suspicious of her? The nerve! Stupid woman who got in the way of her ultimate goal of seducing the boss man! But no worries, once in the US, she confided in the-then-fourteen-year-old me that she had fooled her newest catch, geriatric-and-moneyed-Bob-Goossen-who-did-nothing-but-speak-of-hunting-and-the-making-of-leather-and-anything-that-entailed-the-death-of-animals-when-around-me-just-to-spite-me-and-yes-I-had-to-put-up-with-the-trauma-of-living-with-him-which-caused-me-to-ponder-different-ways-of-murdering-a-man-and-not-getting-caught-and-though-he-is-now-dead-I-swear-I-did-not-do-it, into marrying her and that she was gonna milk it for all it was worth and get us our greencards and as much cash as she could... and she did just that... yeah, flattered.
Fastforward to this past Sunday and there we were, Loverboy, the lil' bohemians and yours truly, smack dab in the middle of dysfunction-ville as my Lil'-Mischief-hating-so-much-so-that-he-does-not-want-her-close-to-him mother tried hard to disguise the venom in her heart with superficial sweet talk directed at me while my sister sat in her short shorts, legs wide open and vulva in plain accidental view for all to see, feeding her 8 month-old son who looks nothing like his works-his-ass-off-in-a-shitty-construction-job-because-he-lacks-intelligence-ambition-or-an-education-but-in-spite-of-it-all-really-is-a-good-guy Gypsy father... not surprising seeing that my mother encouraged many a date for said loose sister behind her tattoed-and-often-shirtless-and-continually-eating skinny boyfriend and said supposed father of the sweet, pure and delightful baby that her son now-is-but-will-not-be-for-long-seeing-that-he-is-in-the-grips-of-said-sister-o'-mine-and-my-very-own-Mummy-Dearest...
Such a scene would not be complete and true to its spiteful spirit without the presence of my judgemental brother... who did not shy away from letting me know, as soon as Loverboy was outta sight, that Lil' Mischief was a spoiled brat, not-in-so-many-words-because-he-fucking-lacks-the-balls-as-he-lives-in-his-pregnant-and-former-go-go-dancer-wife's-skirt-but-there-you-have-it... who revels in the sound of his own voice as he laughs a loud and obnoxious laugh at his own tasteless jokes that are nothing more than passive-aggressive jabs, a direct result of his lacking-cojones-in-life condition, while my mother giggles away and his wife considers him the bomb!
So yeah, a day spent in a toxic-laden circus of freaks can make the best of us speak of the selling of kidneys, a mere side-effect of the desperation and depression that tends to follow such lovely and loving get-togethers... but every cloud has its silver lining and my dear raised-in-a-quirky-environment-by-my-infamous-in-laws-who-in-spite-of-my-distaste-for-their-setting-up-camp-in-my-territory-are-good-loving-decent-people Loverboy's anger at the sight that is this rampant, malicious dysfunction has the healing benefit of a deeper understanding... an understanding of his wife's numerous now-a-thing-of-the-past panic attacks, of her disassociative episodes where vicious insults were hurled at an undeserving-and-always-loving husband that he was and still is, of her anorexia and self-loathing and confusion and twisted reality that was her thought process back then as well as an understanding of her utter and sheer fear of life and... yes, an understanding that has led the way to closure at the hands of those very people that seethe with rage at the mere sight of my smile, who balk at the love and respect with which my husband treats me and who are angered by the joy present in our collective bohemian eyes revealing that in spite of our worries we are happy and hopeful and well... and thankful...
Crap, thankful foils the title I was to give this piece... My Mother, My Asshole... Oh well!
31 Comments:
i missed your call today, dammit!... but, at least i can feel close to you here. a comment to be FIRST, then back with something real and more substantial for my favorite BoheMian! (i really did miss you, today... and i sure hope we can make up for the missed calls/emails tomorrow...?)
for now, much love to you, dear, beautiful and most *treasured* friend! xoxox
I'm so glad you have Loverboy. :)
Too your family doesn't live farther away, isn't it?
You use them wire hangers all you want! Other than that, I'm going to try and show good manners and not comment on your pre-Loverboy family.
I'm still leaning away from yoga, though. I still have some respect for my fellow human beings. >;^D>
You've risen above them, and they cannot stand it.
I'm so happy that you were/are able to do that... you deserve the best :-)
Oh MizB I really have to go back to IE for you
Your family is dizzy enough--seem to be on a psychology comment run tonight
Sometimes I do get scared that my later in life ambition can be mistaken for narcissim--do have an utter fear of life, but rather than bad risk taking, I make myself take trips alone and meet strangers and force myself to ask them to dinner--don't know how I got into this
Am very glad that you have lovaboy
MizB, here is an official adoption offer, so you may rid yourself of said draining, horrible and oh-so-angst-inducing family, and join ours.
We tend to hug far more than most people think is right, and tell the same stupid stories and laugh at the same silly jokes over and over again...but we're full of love and not judgement, and discussions of books or politics or yesterday's sunset, and wishes of sweet dreams, and giving each other support and back-scratches.
Sappy, it's true--but sappy sans cruelty or judgements.
Shall we set four more places at the table for the next holiday? Mwwwah!
Neva~ I missed you too my dear and most beloved Neva! But no worries, I ain't no quitter and will try and try again until I get a hold of you! FO SHO!!!
This bohemian simply cannot do without her fix of you!
Kat~ Too bad indeed! Although I suspect it is one of my life lessons to figure this out and not run away from it! Crap! ;-P
FE~ Your sweet manners are always appreciated but no worries, here in the land o' BoheMia there is no need to hold back! I seriously will not bite!
Still no yoga? *sigh* Oh well! Can't say I didn't try!
Laurie~ Yay! You are back I see! Thank you my sweet friend... yes, unfortunately they are to be pitied for only truly miserable souls waste life away as they do...
Pia~ I am glad too my dear Pia!
As for the utter fear of life, it thankfully is no longer there... was a great part of my past and now is my incentive to get off my ass and confront any fears left lurking in the dark depths of my mind! 'Tis time for some K-POW!
I see you are doing the same thing! Good for you! And I would not worry about your being called a narcissist! It is one thing to be ambitious and a whole other ballgame to be a narcissist!
Carolie~ Oh please do! I am so touched by your sweet, sweet words! Just a testament to you my dear friend! Your family sounds delightful and just fabulous and I am sooo happy that you have such beautiful people in your life! But reading you and your sweet sentiments, well, is it any wonder? Besos to you amiga mia!
MizB, I liked the original title, although I suppose it is healthy to take the higher road,as you've done.
What a great man you have, and what a great woman you are for rising above the BS of your family.
Well my dear... you are one of the finest people I know... Loverboy and the kids are lucky to have you, and I am thankful for your posts and friendship as well ;)
HUGS!!!
i was so moved by this post last night, i labored long and hard over a response. you didn't get to read it, because, after spending all that time crafting something meaningful (or what i hoped would be), the computer went kablowie! and it disappeared. stupid fucking Blogger.
yep, i poured my heart out to you... and fear i cannot do it again. the only thing i wanted to be sure to get across to you, dearest friend, is that even the most pathetic of a person, such as your mother, can be capable of greatness. somehow she managed to bring you into this world. i know you bear the scars of a lifetime saddled with the burden of being *her* child, but, if we are to believe anything about our "destiny" and the choices we've made (even before getting here) you know you chose to arrive when you did. you are a product of her, but not an extention. i know you know this and i am in awe of you for the strength, wisdom and peace of mind you've managed to acquire over your life, despite your difficult background.
you are a blessing. no one, not even Your Mother, Your Asshole can take that away from you. your mom was just a vessel to get you here, not your reason to live! besides, the best revenge is to live a happy life, in spite of her. that'll show the bitch!
much love and manymany hugs and kisses are flying your way, Sweet and Adored BoheMian!! xoxo
I have one good thing to say about your mother: she gave you life! And that about covers it. From what I have read so far, her and my birthmom shoudl meet up, they´d have a lot to talk about!
With all that crap, i am surprised you managed to become you!
Miz B,
I just LOVE the band between a mother and dughter. I can almost feel the love from here!
egad's MizB, I don't know how you still meet with these people - you're a better person than me! After reading all this, I have to say it again, it's a testament to your inner strength that you made it out and are so healthy (mentally) today.
I wonder if there is anyway you can get your nephew out of this situation, I'm frightened for him...I think he would do so much better in a stable home, like yours. Poor kid.
ps - Come back to America - smoking is not cool here anymore!! Now we force the smokers into tiny little non-ventilated rooms.
Thankfully you have found your soulmate in Loverboy. We souls all find each other for a reason. Your family just seethes at the person you have become both because of them and in spite of them.
Good luck on your continued growth and healing. You have so much to be proud of. Take good care of yourself.
xox dear friend
Queeniepoo~ YOU ARE BACK!!! YAY! I noticed before you commented, actually, and have yet to drop by for a proper visit though your new address has been noted for the blogroll to be changed accordingly! Bohemians everywhere rejoice at your return! And I DO love me the new name! Sizzlin' FO SHO!
Thank you for your sweet words... they are much appreciated and especially when coming from you!
Leigh~ Coming from you my sweet, sweet Leigh, those words are sizzlin' and much taken to heart! Gracias amiga mia! Here is a big boho kiss just for you!
Neva~ MOTHAFUCKING, ASSHOLE, PIECE OF SHIT OF A BLOGGER GODAMMIT TO HELL!!! Seriously now? To obliterate words written by you? Now that is a SIN if ever there was one! I write in a document now so I can save what is written, just in case, because Blogger has done this to me one too many times and well, our damn laptops are prone to crashing too, adding to the drama of it all! DAMN YOU BLOGGER!
My dearest Neva, your sweet, sweet words touch me beyond what any words I could conjure up can ever convey so I do not have an appropriate answer for your sweetness except to thank you from the bottom of my heart my dear soul sister (for that is just what you are you know!)... I love you dearly and hope to have a good enough karma to someday give you all these stored up boho hugs and kisses in person! For now, many of 'em are flying on over from the blogosphere! Besos to my dearest Neva Puppytoes!
Minka~ I can say the exact same thing about you my dearest Monika! And hey, I guess 'tis a tie that binds us together, though I wish you did not have a painful past that would enable you to relate to mine but since we do, blessed be the elements that brought us together, no? Many kisses to you, you fabulous Ice Queen!
Poobah~ Beautiful isn't it? So much so that I am crying, CRYING I TELL YOU!
VG~ Believe me when I tell you that all my energy is geared towards someday making it back to the US! I have cut down, and am cutting it down even more, on the visits with my family... we are now limiting them to when the WHOLE fucked-up clan is gathere because that means that my cousins A and S will be present, with their significant others, giving us people we love to mingle with and keep us away from the asses... but seeing my mom and siblings aside? That is now a thing of the past. I cannot do it anymore. As for my nephew, well, he is living out his destiny and I, unfortunately, cannot save the world. I will do what I can but some things we simply have to accept! I am sure he was born with his own greater plan to follow and his being the son of my sister is a part of that and of the lessons he probably has to learn in this life, as was my being born to my mother I suppose!
G~ Hola my sweet G! You finally made it in! YAY! Truly a cause for celebration on my end as seeing you always brightens my days! Thank you for the sweet words and I must say I do agree with us souls finding each other for a reason! And I for one am blessed to have a specific sassy lamp in my life called G! FO SHO! Many boho besos coming your way dear amiga!
i reeeally dont like your mum. or your brother.
ive seen so many families with the same dynamics as yours..its awful.
im very proud of you yummy mummy..i think a woman lesser than you wouldn't have been able to keep it all together..
i feel bad for your nephew..poor kid :S i kinda wish he was living with you instead..
i *heart* loverboy! he's such a star! dont you bully him now, yummy mummy (but he'd probably like that :D)
You could have my mother if you wanted. Everybody else seems to.
MizB xo
Everytime I read posts of yours involving your mother and that family, I am left amazed that you'd made it "out", never mind that you'd made it out in many pieces at first. Those pieces were still you and each one you have cradled to heart and stuck it back together, laboured love by laboured love.
There are days when we really just want to give it up, say it cannot be done and relieve ourselves of the work required to stare bravely back at our reflection in the mirror, to see pride in a lift of our chin, and hope renewed a thousand times over in tired but opened eyes. But we do it anyway.
You've done it.
I am in love with Loverboy. I think we shld clone Loverboy and send Loverboy clones to hopeful swoonin girls all over ;-)
GG xo
You're one of life's superkids, to have come out of a bad situation with perspective and sanity. Well, now you're a superwoman, supermom. Good for you! And yay for your loverboy:)
Hi Miz B. Here is a big hugs for you (((((((Miz B)))))))
You know how I feel about your mother. You want me to take her out for you?
Dear god mizzy B if I had no doubt of your strength I would fear for you, but I have no doubt so I hold you on a pedestal ever so tall.
Ladee Mahi~ Thank you for your sweet words dear Mahi! I have met many kindred spirits unfortunate in that they too had such families... but I have been lucky in that there have been many wonderful little signs along the way, pushing me along, giving me faith that someday things would be better... that or it was the sheer survival instinct kicking in, I don't know! All in all, I lucked out!
As for Loverboy, a little slapping around of the man will keep him humble! I ain't Catty Yummy Mummy for nothin'! K-KISH BABY!
Kinky times! ;-P
Kay~ Hmmmm.... numbers down? Or do you miss us?
GG~ What beautiful words and I am flattered that you apply them to me... although undeservingly so for I feel there is much work to be done on this here bohemian girl yet I am afraid! But baby steps and on we go!
As for Loverboy, he just exclaimed Forget them clones! There's enough man here to go around baby! WHAT THE FUCK MAN? K-POW!
Actonbell~ You would think twice were you in my constantly grouchy presence, crumbling at my daughter's nonstop talking and my son's constant and eager desire to be in trouble... superwoman? Supermom? I wish but hey, I won't stop you from saying it! You make me *swoon*! ;-)
Kyah~ YOU'RE BACK! YAY! Bohemians everywhere rejoice! Wooh to da Hooh! FO SHO!
As for my mom, no worries sweet friend... unfortunately karma is catching up with her and it is a sad sight... I do wish it weren't so though...
Cooper~ Oh my! Then stand to the side because, clutzy me, I am bound to fall right on top of you and we would not want that now would we? ;-) That sweet sentiment of yours? Right back at ya, for real, and I hope you know that!
Sorry Miz B... I almost spit my drink of wine out of my nose when I read "My Mother, My Asshole"... I think I may have to come up with a post with that title...
You're a strong woman Miz B... letting it out helps, doesn't it?!?!
Putting the PAIN in SPAIN.
OUCH!
All of this talk about donating kidneys and selling Beemers is quite disconcerting. Mr. Wilde remarked that living well was the best revenge and I think that he may have been on to something. I don't really know WHY you have been subjected to the
'SPANISH IMPOSITION'
but I suspect that it may just be enough to put you over the top.
If this continues to spiral into the abyss I may just get Alfred to fire up the Batplane and fly over there to rescue you while you still have kidneys.
Someday the giant Karmic Boomerang will return from its trajectory and will be twirling towards Mommy Dearest...DUCK!
May I just say that I hated the smoking parents thing.
College and the non-smoking dorms were the best thing that ever happened to my lungs.
Bar none.
no. listen. get away from these people. this is freaking me out.
I can't be lighthearted about this. these people are literally toxic, to you and to your family. even without the freak siblings. add them and you have a freakin abbatoir of sickness going on here.
nothing in the world says you have to stay connected to these people this is the point where you say 'hasta la vista'. this is bad.
neva, dont worry on the pour your heart out thing...i just did it for you.
XOO miz B. please defend yourself.
Shayna~ It really does and I knew you would be one to understand! It is a cleansing ritual of letting go! Glad you liked the alternative title! Ha, ha, haaa! And yeah, use it anytime!
HE~ YES! Send that batmobile on over FO SHO! Does it fly on over to San Francisco? Well, hell, I will settle on any place as long as it is away from these people! Dios mio!
As for living well, scrambling to hold on to that and not give them the satisfaction of a defeat! Fingers crossed and off the cliff I jump! WAHOOOO!!! (As in into the unkown... not killing myself I tell you! HELL TO THE NO!)
Dan~ Hear ye, hear ye! It is indeed awful and suffocating does not do the absolute torture of the experience justice! Glad your lungs are cleansed! YAY for health amigo mio, YAY I SAY!
FN~ Don't worry FN! It is getting to that point! I would have cut it off a decade ago but Loverboy has to come to terms with it too as a part of his journey as he has some history with my family and this is all a whole new universe of shit he had never seen before... he is now to the point where when something is outta line, he is gonna use it to the fullest and, fingers crossed, cut these unhealthy ties that I no longer want to bind... in the meanwhile I am using these moments as lessons in letting go of a lot of my baggage and well, screaming and bitching about it here helps FO SHO!
No worries, I will defend myself and I am touched by your sweetness and caring my friend! Big boho kisses coming your way! Mwah-licious!
never before have i been so utterly horrified/thrilled/inspired by a narration all in one go. you are amazing. and i'm honored to have all your emails in my inbox. :)
Sigh. Poor Yummy Mummy. I do not like this family of yours. Hurrah for Loverboy that's all I gotta say.
Sorry I've been absent.
I just wonder what must have happened to your Mother for her to have turned out to be a Mother like that? My dear MizB, LovaMo'a wishes that you had had a better childhood. What is it that makes you go back for more? You need to cut the ties and live your life with your wonderful Bohemians, and your good friends that appreciate you.
{illyria}~ You flatter me oh poetess de mi corazon! The flattery is great on my end and your emails? Cherished writing I tell you!
Jenna~ No worries... I missed you and felt utterly neglected is all... oh well! ;-)
LovaMo'a~ YAY! YOU ARE BACK! Bohemians everywhere rejoice at the sight that is your sweet, sweet face!
My mother herself was badly abused emotionally by her cold and malicious mother, my grandmother... another quite toxic influence, still going strong with her hatred at the age of 86 I am afraid... so not knowing better she is stuck in the vicious cycle of her own abuse and probably at a developmental age of 2, unable to move past that... problem is that her being my mother and having inflicted nonstop pain on me made it hard for me to even want to be there for her anymore...
I barely see her as is... probably once every couple of months, or once a month AT MOST! I do not go back for more but for right now, I am also unable, for many reasons, to cut off ties with them completely... Loverboy's eyes are being opened to the reality that is them and since this is also a part of his path, once he too is fully ready and the time is right, we may just do that...
Thank you for your sweet and wise words that I always take to heart (I will have you know!)... I am on my way there in this chaos called Spain...
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