Thanksgiving was lovely. I can't say it was particularly remarkable or anything, but it was good.
First, in order to stave off the insanity, we went to Thanksiving at a friend's house. It was lovely. Munchkin had a wonderful time and she looked so adorable in her purple party dress. Her behavior was thisclose to impeccable. She had so much fun playing in the backyard and playing with the cats. I really had to remind myself to not obsess about her dress and how many stickers were getting on it. But I succeeded and life is so much better when you don't obsess about stuff like that.
Next up was afternoon insanity. IE we went to my mom's house. This experience was good, but a bit creepy. I mean, it's a little bit creepy how HAPPY my mom is while my dad's in the klink. She's frickin motivated. Her apartment is getting cleaner, exponentially so. Things are neat. She bought a small washer and dryer. WTF? She didn't complain even ONCE about cooking dinner or cleaning up afterward. Not a frickin word.
Seeing my mom like that was like seeing who she could be if she could just remove herself from that hellish marriage. I have judged my mom so often, and divorce wouldn't solve all her problems. It would present new challenges. But I think my mom would at least have a chance at it. She deserves that.
So often, I feel sorry for my dad. But is he the appropriate one to feel sorry for? I mean, my mom's not the one doing the binge drinking, now is she? Yeah, my dad's feeble, but didn't he make that bed himself? Didn't he put the those thumbtacks on the mattress? But now that he's feeble, isn't it too late to hold him accountable?
Well, I guess I don't need the answers. I am taking myself out of the equation and resigning as guardian. I love my dad, but I can't solve his problems. I have too many of my own to solve. And not many answers for those.
Gosh, is that really true? No, it's not. I do have the answers. I think that we always know the truth about things inside. It's there, God gives us that knowledge, or our instincts do, or banana bread does, depending on what you believe. Whether I am brave enough to leave behind my illusions and my habits and my fears is the only question, truly.
And in other news, I believe my ex is still reading this blog and I can't for the life of me figure out why. What is it? Morbid curiosity? You want to see what I become when I grow up, at the ripe old age of thirty? Want to revel in any mistakes that I might make and then foolishly publicize? Want to see me admit you were right about this that and the other?
Another good question might be why do I give a sh*t? Who cares? Let the man read all he wants. It doesn't matter one whit whether he does or not.
So last night, my sister said she was thankful for my transformation. I guess it's easier to be around me than it is to be around a conniving, rude b*tch. LOL.
Well I'm off to my haircut. I yearn to grow my hair out again but God, that would be so messy. I don't think I could deal with it.
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