So the wedding, aside from being ridiculously long in the Catholic sense, was nice. I can't say much for the ceremony because, well, I'm an atheist and of the belief weddings should be more about the couple embarking on a new life together and less of a religious sermon with a long white dress, and Father Dramatic Pause offended me with his comment that my brother and sister-in-law could have taken the lesser route of going to Vegas or to the courthouse to get married, but they wanted to do it the right way instead.
Um, respectfully request you to piss off, Father BlahBlahBlah.
The good thing about Catholic weddings is that there is almost always an open bar reception. Good for us. Not so good for my sister, who got completely shitfaced and flirted with enough dudes to send her pissed-off husband home alone. Drama, drama, drama. My father imbibed to the point of dragging me out for a dance (to "Friends in Low Places," of all songs) and started getting all nice on me--asking me how things have been going, offering words of encouragement and a few strong squeezes.
Like I told the sober sister, "when he sobers up, I'll return to being just an afterthought."
What must it be like to have a family that's close when alcohol and cameras aren't involved?
I'm having very mixed feelings about the psychiatrist appointment this week. I've strongly considered stopping all medications (he's only on Zoloft right now) and all therapy and other appointments and just seeing what happens from there. No longer What Would Martha Do (probably eat him), but What Would Parents of My Childhood Have Done? (Answer: beat his ass on a regular basis and attribute it to "boys being boys," most likely. Which I don't think had very positive results in the long run.) I don't know--I can think of really only two boys from my childhood who were "problems" whose current whereabouts I'm aware of. One managed to graduate from high school, get a job, knock up his girlfriend a few times, marry her, and is now getting a divorce for unknown reasons. The other dropped out of high school, I think, and has been in and out of prison a couple of times (and he's only 25, I think).
Random? Or was there some event or series of events that landed one in the pokey and the other with a somewhat reasonable life?
My own siblings and I are certainly without our long lists of bad choices (some longer than others), but for the most part, none of us are losers. None of us have drug problems. None of us are alcoholics. I have a college degree, one sister graduated from a tech program. We all have jobs. Three of the 4 of us own our own homes. We're all married, however happily or unhappily. None of us have ever done time.
Were we just smarter (and luckier) than other kids? Our parents' attitudes toward us as children can be best described as "apathetic." So what was it that kept us out of major trouble? Fear? Some inner sense of right and wrong? I have no idea.
It's getting hot in my office again. Which means it's time to start sweating. I don't like to sweat, but the people who have fans in their offices that I could steal for the afternoon are here, so I won't be getting any relief any time soon.
I unleashed Ben yesterday, and he went for a round of frisbee golf (I refuse to say "disc golf"--discs and disks are things found in computers and backs) with a friend of his. I realized last week he's been more than willing to let me off the parenting hook for a few minutes here and there, and that I haven't been nearly as accommodating. Not that I do much--maybe go for a 20 minute bike ride every few days, or to tan, or to grocery shop. But the time is still very appreciated and very necessary. So last week I told him if he wanted to do something this weekend, to please feel free to do so. And rather than spend that time moping about how he'd rather throw pieces of plastic around with his friend than hang out with me and Bob, I took Bob for a drive. I didn't know where we were going, but we ended up at my favorite pet store and picked up some fish. (My tank has been set up for like, 3 months now, with only one lone beta (Gil) in residence. Color me lazy.) After looking at and discussing all the freshwater fish, we finally settled on a plecostamus (big sucker fish that eat algae), two little bitty tiger barbs, a bala shark and a gold gourami. Bob was very excited to "help" get the fish settled into the tank. Now he thinks his fish, a purple beta he calls "Goldie," needs roommates. Grand.
At any rate, I guess seeing my family in action made me appreciate my husband even more. I don't ever feel like we're married just because we don't have anything better to do. I love him more than I ever have.
Um, respectfully request you to piss off, Father BlahBlahBlah.
The good thing about Catholic weddings is that there is almost always an open bar reception. Good for us. Not so good for my sister, who got completely shitfaced and flirted with enough dudes to send her pissed-off husband home alone. Drama, drama, drama. My father imbibed to the point of dragging me out for a dance (to "Friends in Low Places," of all songs) and started getting all nice on me--asking me how things have been going, offering words of encouragement and a few strong squeezes.
Like I told the sober sister, "when he sobers up, I'll return to being just an afterthought."
What must it be like to have a family that's close when alcohol and cameras aren't involved?
I'm having very mixed feelings about the psychiatrist appointment this week. I've strongly considered stopping all medications (he's only on Zoloft right now) and all therapy and other appointments and just seeing what happens from there. No longer What Would Martha Do (probably eat him), but What Would Parents of My Childhood Have Done? (Answer: beat his ass on a regular basis and attribute it to "boys being boys," most likely. Which I don't think had very positive results in the long run.) I don't know--I can think of really only two boys from my childhood who were "problems" whose current whereabouts I'm aware of. One managed to graduate from high school, get a job, knock up his girlfriend a few times, marry her, and is now getting a divorce for unknown reasons. The other dropped out of high school, I think, and has been in and out of prison a couple of times (and he's only 25, I think).
Random? Or was there some event or series of events that landed one in the pokey and the other with a somewhat reasonable life?
My own siblings and I are certainly without our long lists of bad choices (some longer than others), but for the most part, none of us are losers. None of us have drug problems. None of us are alcoholics. I have a college degree, one sister graduated from a tech program. We all have jobs. Three of the 4 of us own our own homes. We're all married, however happily or unhappily. None of us have ever done time.
Were we just smarter (and luckier) than other kids? Our parents' attitudes toward us as children can be best described as "apathetic." So what was it that kept us out of major trouble? Fear? Some inner sense of right and wrong? I have no idea.
It's getting hot in my office again. Which means it's time to start sweating. I don't like to sweat, but the people who have fans in their offices that I could steal for the afternoon are here, so I won't be getting any relief any time soon.
I unleashed Ben yesterday, and he went for a round of frisbee golf (I refuse to say "disc golf"--discs and disks are things found in computers and backs) with a friend of his. I realized last week he's been more than willing to let me off the parenting hook for a few minutes here and there, and that I haven't been nearly as accommodating. Not that I do much--maybe go for a 20 minute bike ride every few days, or to tan, or to grocery shop. But the time is still very appreciated and very necessary. So last week I told him if he wanted to do something this weekend, to please feel free to do so. And rather than spend that time moping about how he'd rather throw pieces of plastic around with his friend than hang out with me and Bob, I took Bob for a drive. I didn't know where we were going, but we ended up at my favorite pet store and picked up some fish. (My tank has been set up for like, 3 months now, with only one lone beta (Gil) in residence. Color me lazy.) After looking at and discussing all the freshwater fish, we finally settled on a plecostamus (big sucker fish that eat algae), two little bitty tiger barbs, a bala shark and a gold gourami. Bob was very excited to "help" get the fish settled into the tank. Now he thinks his fish, a purple beta he calls "Goldie," needs roommates. Grand.
At any rate, I guess seeing my family in action made me appreciate my husband even more. I don't ever feel like we're married just because we don't have anything better to do. I love him more than I ever have.
posted by Mitzi Green at 2:53 PM
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