mothers and daughters

My mom and I have always had a pretty good relationship. By that I mean that we have a great ability to spend time together without any fighting like most mothers and daughters, and that we have some common interest in books, movies and music. I like my mom, she is starting to get a little weird and that drives me crazy, but I do like her.

Recently while my sister was visiting we were talking about childhood issues and it came out how I was always expected to allow my brother to have whatever he wanted and I just had to deal. Example: When I was in middle school my mom had a lot of meetings and was gone in the evenings quite a bit. So, she would leave my brother and I an easy dinner to either make (meaning I made it) or already made. The most common one in my memory is Hamburger Helper Cheeseburger Macaroni......Now I happen to like hamburger helper to an extent, it helped me survive college but to this day I hate with a passionate loathing - Cheeseburger Macaroni. I believe there are a few reasons for this. 1) I had to prepare and eat way to much in those middle school years. 2) I never really liked it anyway, but it was what my brother liked. And that is the one that gets me....it didn't matter what it was, if Mitch wanted it he got it...my feelings on the matter were not important. I remember a night that my mom was getting ready to leave for her meeting and telling me that we would have the nasty ass cheeseburger mac for dinner and me telling her that I hate the stuff. Her response was that "Mitch likes it, so thats what we are having" Of course this could be me rewriting the memory, but thats what I remember....

This is just an example...most things were this way. What we watched on tv, what movies we rented, if I made something for myself (like cookies) I was expected to share no matter what. One time I was so mad at him for being a jerk over my not wanting to share jello with him (yes, jello) - basically I had friends coming over, I made jello as our dessert my dear brother insisted on having some and his response to my no was to hit me and take it anyways. So, I put some of the jello under his pillow knowing that when he climbed into bed he would slide his arm under said pillow to get comfortable. It was great and he was so mad...I of course got into trouble but to this day I think it was worth it.

Back to the point. I was at my moms the other day and she brought up these feelings of resentment I have. She is worried that she and I don't have the relationship that she thought we did because I have hidden anger against her. I explained that I don't really have any anger towards her...I don't even hate my brother the way I used to. I also had to explain to her that because when I was much smaller I had promised her I would never give her the grief that Mitch and Mel did that I tired very hard all my life to not be a pain, to be sweet and kind and giving. And that meant that I sacrificed my own comfort in many situations. I didn't always hold up my promise (see jello incident) but for the most part that has been my role in the family. It wasn't until I was pregnant with Miles that I started to assert myself, and that was only because it wasn't for me, it was for my child.

When Miles is all grown am I going to be worried that things I did to him as a child will still be affecting our relationship? I suppose that will depend on what kind of relationship we have. My mom and I do have a good thing, I even consider her a friend. But at the same time she doesn't really and truly know who I am and where I come from. So many things in my life I have never shared with her or with anyone in my family. I am uniquely me and the role I play when I am the daughter or the sister is not necessarily the true me, just like when I am "employee" or "neighbor" or whatever....they are all parts of the roles we play in life and how we live up to the expectations of those we seek love and approval from. Deep down I am still me, they are all aspects of me. Is this wrong? Doesn't everyone live that way?

The wildness within

I am restless. I am finding myself bored with the predictability of my days. There is a desire to get in the car and just drive and see where it takes me. To quit my job and see what I can do to piece together the income that is needed.

Now don't worry, this is not a desire to flee my family. I am so completely in love with my husband that even on the days where he drives me crazy I wouldn't dream of taking off on adventures without him. And of course the same goes for Miles. How could anyone ever abandon their children? Miles is such a huge part of my heart and my soul. I wonder some f this restlessness is more a product of my worry that we don't give him enough variety in his experiences. He is a child of routine and pattern and I want him to be able to be free spirited and adaptable to crazy new fun experiences.

We went to the state fair yesterday and I think Miles enjoyed it, but he was so uncertain of this new situation that he wanted to be carried the entire time by Mitch and I...that was no fun. But then again, he is not even three yet, I know as he gets older he will be less shy in new situations...or at least I hope so. But what if he doesn't? What if he is always nervous and clingy when we meet new people or go to new places? Have I been too protective of him?

What I would love is to be able to say to my family, "pack the car, we are going on an adventure" and have no argument, no trouble and just have fun. And that it wouldn't matter where we end up. At the end of it we could come home dirty and tired but incredibly relaxed and happy.

Phhhbbbttthhhhhttt.........

updated, so there.