What is this, you ask? Well, there is a story behind it. I am a walking accident waiting to happen. I fall down, I bruise myself, I cut myself, I burn myself, also sometimes say things that set people off (not meaning too - I crave peace!) - in other words, full blown clutz-ness is my lot. I would rather project an image of timeless, beautiful grace, but.....
"H" does not allow me to have sharp knives. I would be frustrated with all my knives - so dull - except, well, being an independent woman, I purchased a sharp, super sharp serrated knife, AND a super knife sharpener and went to town sharpening all my knives to razor sharp beautiful cutting tools. Yep, did it - a serrated knife cut hurts worse than a regular knife cut I believe. So "H" bought me a coat of armor - for my hand.
Grandson gets upset if I pluck my eyebrows at a stop light - he is sure someone will rear end me and I will put my eye out. Or pluck it out.
This week has been incredibly hard - emotionally and physically. I had an allergic reaction which went to bronchitis and sinus infection. I have been laid up in bed. But first, I fell - big time - went downtown after dark to health food store to get grandson snacks for weekend and parked on a four lane traffic street. Getting back in my car, down I went in the traffic lane. I could not get up. My legs would not work. Somewhat concerned that I might get run over, I told grandson to wave my cell phone around (with the light on in it) but DO NOT get in the traffic. Poor child was petrified. Finally was able to drag self around to front of car and eventually get up. Lesson learned - do not park on the street after dark, especially the busy street. A few days later a 70 year old woman was struck only about 1/2 a block from there, and dragged for a while - they don't know if she's going to make it. I was very depressed about getting old, and thinking oh dear, I need to get THE back surgery, until I remembered that I have fallen for no reason since I've been in my twenties.
And I was scared, that I would be considered unfit to care for grandson if I was the sort of person to be crawling in traffic after dark.
Same weekend, the insane ex-son-in-law got in my face badly, when I told him he only had an hour with grandson (supervised visitation in place and I've been made the family warden). It turned into a HUGE family fight with me being the bad evil person. I have finally reached the end of the rope with this character - he will no longer bring BB guns to play with all the kids in my yard, (there have been three major screaming fights over his "right" to play with tasers, numbchucks, and ninja steel sharp discs with grandson and the neighbor kids). It is not his "right" to bear arms on my property.
I made it clear to my family that my intent has been to protect my grandson. And while he is in my care, I will do that, but weirdo will no longer yell and scream when he doesn't get his way (esp. in front of grandson) on my property or within 100 feet of me, or ever come in my house again. He shoved me over the BB gun argument. I should have called the law - I didn't want grandson to see him hauled off to jail - that is the only thing that held me back. Perhaps that was a bad example and subtly said to grandson that such actions are ok. He really should not be seeing grandson but that is not my decision to make, I am powerless and have often put myself in bad situations to keep him from being alone with this weirdo. Hindsight is always better than forsight. I have feared that if left to someone else the visitation restrictions would not be heeded, but I have been deluded in thinking I have any control over that anyway.
What I could not figure out, is how suddenly, in the family dynamics, I became the perpetrator, ex-son-in-law the victim, and the little boy, the liar. I have been one mad grandma - there is only one thing more scary than a mom protecting her kid, and that is a grandma protecting her grandson. I love all those grandkids sooooo much.
Caused a big frou frou fight with "H" - after five days, we finally began talking. I always want things handled NOW and he, besides, not liking confrontation, is a slower more logical thinker than I - which is probably a good thing. Thing is the confrontation of the weekend happened again in front of grandson with two men standing right there when it happened and no one called wierdo SIL on it, they stood there and let him threaten to kidnap my grandson, in front of my grandson.
Why do I share something so personal? Because chances are I'm not the only one facing such crazy problems in my life. I share partially to make some sense of something senseless. To garner support which always has been a blessing from my blogger friends - not only support, but many speak the truth to me if I'm wrong. Because when these things happen I feel very alone. And because I need to know I'm not crazy. No, really I know I'm not crazy, but affirmation is always helpful. I share because I'm not good at secrets. Damn secrets are killers of the heart.
Anyway, so its been a really really rough week - all that stuff together. It will be better soon. My faith helps.
Well, going to take my coughing self up to the corner, buy a supply of bananas for shakes, try not to fall down, and come back home to lie down and to read some more.
My group of friends is gathering for our quarterly "slumber" paintathon party this next weekend - our theme since all kinds of stuff has been going on (always happens around Halloween - crazy stuff seems to grow out of nowhere) is of battle - that of warrior women. We'll wear fatigues, boots, black t shirts and be fierce of spirit. We're mama lions. We would all die in a moment for family. Our stories bond us together. Hope I'll be well enough to join in. We will have young women, old women, nursing moms with newborns, pregnant moms, ready to birth women, all beautiful, honest, open women, beautiful to the core. Even with our foibles, our mistakes, our eccentricities, our constant striving to do right and take care of our families and our friends.
I purloined the following Battle Cries: