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Posts Tagged ‘divorce’

When the girls are on the way out the door to their father’s house for their summer visit, and all of life feels like a giant goodbye, or an all-consuming waiting game.  There is some pressure (self-imposed, of course) to make it “special” or to ensure that they leave on a positive note.  Yet they’re antsy and hard to please.  I’m irritable, and don’t find it easy to please.

Add to the mix the looming move and the financial considerations that come with, and the stress is sort of icky for me.

I find myself counting down the days in the opposite manner of how I think I should be.  Instead of “oh no!  only 3 more days with the girls!”  I have more of a feeling that I can’t make it through 3 more days – thank god when I wake up tomorrow, it will be only TWO days!

We were going to spend the 4th down near the Charles River, as we’ve done in years past, but the weather is predicted to be stormy and chilly.  We did that last year, and were – quite frankly – miserable.  We don’t want to do that again.  So now we have to find a way to make that day work.

I kind of just want to move.  I want to pack.

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My Beloved is not my daughters’ biological father.  He is their step-father.  They do not call him dad.  They call him by his first name.  When people say, “oh, your dad is here!”  They look over and say “hi, [real first name]!” and do not correct people.  When we are walking down the street, and see him coming from the other way, they run ahead to hug him and say HI!!!  They make him adorable Father’s Day cards with drawings and paintings of people hanging up side down holding onto the floor, b/c the world has turned upside down without him.  They ask me to buy his favorite things when we’re out at the store.  They miss him when he’s gone, and on Thursday evenings – the one night he works later in the evening – they are asking me on an every-15-minute basis when he’ll be home, starting at 6:30.  

But.

Of course there’s a but. 

It’s not always easy.  

Sometimes, it’s far from easy.  

Father’s Day is one of those times.  

Everyone is acutely aware.  We’re aware that there is someone, in another state, who expects this day to celebrate him.  We’re aware that I, the mom of the house, along with almost all of the girls’ friends, have ONE father.  One wonderful, (still) involved man who has always been the focus of my father’s days, and there is a little jealousy (probably from all 3 of them).  

While trying not-to-seem-like-I-am-listening-while-trying-to-listen yesterday as they called the Middle of the Country, I thought I was putting together Ick-Head’s half of the conversation to be “oh, you remembered to call me …” to which they replied, “yeah, I remembered …. well, mom reminded me.”  

So neither situation is perfect for the girls.  They know Beloved’s role is large, but they also know there’s someone else, somewhere else, and they can’t just ignore that.  

And in the more specific, E can fight with Beloved.  She can be super-sensitive, and she can parse things and hold onto things in a very oldest-child “you’re not my father” way.  We’ve come far – so very far – but it isn’t perfect yet, and likely will never be *perfect.*  As her mother, I often feel torn between needing her to behave – to be respectful, and to be emotionally healthy toward others and with herself – and also feeling very protective about her childhood, and her happiness.  And at some point, does it matter if she creates the conflict?  If her memories of childhood include conflict?  Will that be all of her memory?  

Will she remember the good, or just the bad?

I remember a shitload of bad.  I remember my mother throwing sneakers at me from across the room, hitting me in the stomach.  I remember her locking me out of the house (I was 9, and had to “watch” my 6 year old sister and 3 year old brother).  I remember her calling me “ignorant.”  I remember her being thoroughly unreasonable and (truly) verbally abusive.  I remember her making my father cry, with the same behavior.  My father.  Who’d only cried one other time … when his brother died a very untimely (25 years old) death.  Or was it when his father died?  I don’t remember.  One of those funerals.  FUNERALS!!

I’m sure there was more.  There was good.  She talks about it all the time.  “Remember when I used to read to you before you went to bed?”  “Remember when I used to tuck you in every night, even when you were in high school?”  No, mom.  I don’t.  

So one day, when I say, “Remember when you and Beloved did that research project?”  or “remember when you read his stories for him to give him feedback?” or “Remember when we used to watch movies as a family and you and Beloved shared one couch while J and I shared the other?”  That she’ll look at me like I have 3 heads.  Like I’m making things up to hide the arguments about what time she should come home from a friend’s to get ready for softball, about whether the recycling was put in the wrong containers (she accused HIM of that one), about whether she put her bowl in the sink after breakfast.  

And my fear of that – as irrational as it may (or may not) be – it makes Beloved and I fight.  It makes him feel scrutinized and harassed, rather than supported and helped through the admittedly difficult waters of step-parenting.  And I say “I can’t give you both first priority!  My motherhood is my first priority!!”  And then I feel sad to think he – the man who tries so hard, who gives so much, who has pushed himself on so many fronts – feels alone.  

And on Father’s Day, when all emotions are raw, and we’re feeling guilty, we’re feeling torn, we’re feeling like we’ll never be enough … it all comes together.  

And it reminds us that as much as we have so much fun, and as well as we’re doing – sometimes, we have a really hard time.

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my weekend – my evening – my health.

1)  J was gone this weekend.  I thought it would be nice.  She’s younger, less independent, a little more needy.  I thought it would be a break.  It wasn’t.  It was a hole.  I missed her.  I worried about her – camping with the girl scouts in shitty weather.

And I didn’t feel good.  My stomach hurt.  As tends to be a constant lately.  It’s getting on my nerves.

2)  This evening, I took E for her first appointment with a counselor.  It went well.  She was a little tentative, but she warmed up toward the end, and I think she’ll do well with me out of the room, which starts next week.  I was thinking very much that my daughter is stellar and has no Issues and did not need to be in that Room, and then her father came up, and the summer.  Then I ended up thinking I needed to get J in that room as well as E, since J had her first “I cannot go there this summer” tantrum last night.

And then tonight …. times 10.  which is why the evening was crap.  She cried and thrashed and held my face in her hands telling me “I CANNOT GO THERE!”

It’s so hard.  Hard to know when she needs advocating, and when she needs pushing out of her comfort zone.  The past few times she’s come home, she’s been happy and good.  But now she’s repulsed by the idea of seven weeks in the Middle of the Country, and is miserable over it.  She wanted me to write the following:  “Dear [ex]:  J has decided she is unable to travel to ____ this summer due to her own emotional considerations.”  But then she realized that he would be MAD at her, and feared he would take it out on her.  So we re-wrote it.  I wrote this:  J feels like the summer has shaped up to be too long.  The girls request the following ….”  [insert 3 week visit followed by 3 weeks at home before the blasted cruise.]

But then I had to freak out, because even though I needed to respond to my kid’s anguish … uh – I work full time (pesky job).  Beloved is in school.  What are we going to do with the CHILDREN??

But as usual, Beloved saved the day.  Yeah, he’s in school, but he’s not IN SCHOOL.  he’s doing school work at home.  He said he is happy to balance the school work and the children, and will look forward to being sure that they’re kept track of and fed and healthy and happy.

So now I hope the ex says “uhhhh, okay.”

3)  I never feel good anymore.  I constantly feel like my intestines are trying to process lead boulders.  Sometimes the scale says I’m 16 pounds up from the fall … other times 6 pounds up.  The 10 pounds are there when I feel like crap, but not when I don’t.  I don’t know what’s going on.  I have excellent insurance, but not insurance that makes me anything but a new patient at any non-law-school provider, and so I can’t get in to see a doctor for another month.  I feel like the things I’m feeling are just exacerbations of things I’ve dealt with since at least high school on a low level, and it is just starting to be constant and to affect my life.

I’ve hugely altered my diet.  I’m currently (for 2 weeks now) trying a gluten-free diet, and I’m also (less strictly) restricting myself from all white carbs.  I am considering going lactose-free, and sugar free, and perhaps – eventually – solids-free.  I feel like everything – even innocuous things (hello?  apples?) – hurt my belly.

I am unhappy, and I think that something’s wrong.  I hate that I’ve gained weight while eating almost nothing.  I hate the feeling of discouragement I have every time that I look at weight loss programs, and they’re all focused on reducing appetites … I have no appetite.  Food hurts my stomach.  I never want to eat.  Yet I gain weight.

I look at these f’ing magazines with their “tips to incorporate exercise in your every day life.”  Take the stairs; leave the car home; get off the train a few stops early and walk.  I don’t have a fucking car.  I walk to work rather than make train connections.  I take a LOT of stairs.  I lug groceries around town by foot.  I walk EVERYWHERE.  Constantly.  Up hills, down hills, downtown, through windy paths.

No – I haven’t made it to the gym, but is it really right that I have to exercise up to 3 hours a day in order to NOT GAIN weight?  When I eat very little, and very wisely?  When I lead a far-from-sedentary life?  I’m sure I walk an hour a day – if not more.

Crap.

I can’t believe I just wrote such a whiny post when, honestly, there’s so much good in my life.

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Even though my past two posts were full of how great my kids are, we are of course, well rounded people.  With issues and up hill battles and what not.

Which is why I now have an appointment in place for E to visit with a therapist.

I mentioned that during Play Weekend I had my first ever negative parent-teacher conference regarding E.  It was a regularly scheduled (twice a year) conference, and I knew going in that she is not the perfect child.  I think as she gets older, and school becomes more independent and more social, these imperfections become more obvious to the teachers.  The structure is a little looser, but demands are higher.

I also went in feeling like a new kind of parent – one who doesn’t know everything about her kid’s life anymore.  She’s a little more close-to-the-vest now with her days, and her friends, and whatnot.  Oh, she definitely enjoys telling us what they’re doing in school and I get various stories, but I have caught wind that she’s had issues with her teachers that she doesn’t talk to me about.  I was taking consolation in the fact that if they were big issues, I would have heard from the teacher.

The conference was opened with, “We’ll start with the hard stuff.”  Then some blah blah about the transitions that kids go through in 6th grade, then “She makes me so angry that I feel like my head is going to explode right on top of my shoulders!!!”  [I have repeated this quote so many times to so many people, I feel like it should be my tag line for the year.]

Before I go on – let’s put this into perspective.  I had about 24 hours where I lacked perspective – between the conference and E’s report card showing up.  From what her teachers were saying (actually, it was one out of three), I was thinking I would have Cs and Ds delivered into my mailbox on Saturday.

Not so.  She had 4 A’s one B.  They also have “effort” and “behavior” grading – 1 – 4.  One is “excellent,” 2 is “good,” 3 is “inconsistent” and 4 is bad.  She had mostly 1’s, with 2’s from this particular teacher.  He told me she was on the verge of 3’s, but he didn’t give her 3’s, because he hadn’t sent home a progress report mid-marking period, which is supposed to alert us parents to improvements or deficiencies since the last report card.

Back to the conference.  She makes him mad because she won’t go outside to recess.  I could not understand.  If I tell E to go outside, she goes outside.  How can she just NOT go?  But my first question was “why?”  I asked, “do you know if she’s having difficulties with the other kids, that’s making recess difficult and making her want to avoid it?”  The teacher-who-hates-her looked at me as if I either a) had two heads or b) was the stupidest person on earth.  “That has nothing to do with it – she stays inside to work on projects.”  Teacher-who-loves-her said, “That has everything to do with it – that’s always what informs the kids’ decisions at recess.”  Teacher-who-hates-her took a minute to make his head stop spinning.  Huh?  Teacher-who-loves-her said, “she doesn’t have any problems – she’s getting along fine with everyone, she just wants to stay inside if her friends are inside.”

I was working very hard to not be railroaded at this conference (3 teachers: 1 parent), and so some pieces didn’t come together until later.

The complete recess picture:  Kids stay inside to do other things.  They are no longer required to go out.  As of next year, it’s not even called “recess” but rather a “free period” and they don’t even go out to the playground.  This year is a transition.  The 6th graders who do go outside don’t “play” anymore.  They wander around and talk.  They sit on benches and talk.  However, teacher-who-hates-her needs a break from E.  Because his head needs to re-group and not explode.  So E, and only E, has to go outside for recess.  Unless he tells her to stay inside, which is often.  Or unless the kid-driven activist group is having a meeting, which is once a week.  Or unless one of the teachers holds a review session during recess.  Which is often.  Or unless one of the teachers wants to discuss something with a kid about their grade or homework or a discussion in class – which is often.

Sound confusing?  The way we left the conference on the recess point was “I will tell E that she has to go outside for recess.  Please keep in touch with me about this.  There is no reason why if you say ‘E, go outside’ for her to just not listen.  If I tell E to go outside, she goes outside.  I need to know if this continues.”

On Monday, E comes home.  I ask, “what did you do at recess today?”  She says, “I stayed to talk to [teacher who wasn’t at the conference] and then I went outside.”  The next day “What did you do at recess?” [teacher-who-hates-her] made her stay inside to work on a “card.” (not a school assignment, but a project that a few kids were assigned to make a thank-you for someone who came to speak to the class.)  The next day was a meeting.  The next day she went outside.  The next day was a review session.

And he hasn’t called me.

The other issue:  E does this thing that he calls “spinning.”  He is not wrong.  I call it “getting stuck.”  E hits a wall in her own head, and she can’t explain to herself how to turn around and walk around it.  It’s been this way since she was 3.  The more I think about it over the past weeks, the more I think it’s a self-soothing skill that she’s lacking.  So I suppose it traces back to me as her mother in her days of infancy.  I held her too much.  I shouldn’t have co-slept.  I should have taught her to calm her own self down.  I’ve been trying to do so – I’ve spoken with her since she was 1 about ‘taking deep breaths’ and ‘finding solutions’ rather than freaking out and getting hysterical when something is thrown in her path – but it hasn’t worked.  (Clearly.)

This is how it looks to her teacher:  He hands out a homework sheet during the morning.  Explains it 1/2 way, has to stop because it’s time to go to Gym.  Tells them to put it in their desk.  At the end of the day, with about 20 minutes left to class, he returns to the sheet, tells them to take it out.  They go into their desks and get the sheet.  But E goes into her desk, moves some papers around, and frantically raises her hand.  He asks her what’s wrong.  “I can’t find mine!  It’s gone!  I think I left it on my desk and it got thrown away!”  He says “E, I’m in the middle of explaining this to the class right now, I’ll have to go and make you another copy after class lets out.”  She freaks out further “I can’t! I have to go somewhere right after school and I’m in a carpool and we’ll be late if I stay after class!” (true.)  She is not calm as she’s explaining this, she’s sort of frantic.  He’s pissed off.  His head is starting to crack around the edges.

This was a story that he told during the FALL conference.  So come spring, when the behavior is still presenting itself, he’s PISSED OFF.  (And she knows it – he’s yelled at her for it, and singled her out during end-of-the-day-whole-class-lectures enough that she’s well aware of his opinion of her, and it has driven her to tears in class, which has resulted in him yelling at her more and sending her out of the classroom.)  I spoke to E about this after the fall conference.  I talked to her about what she could have done different.  We talked about noticing the internal signs that she’s starting to get worked up, and early on, choosing instead to push the pause button.  To breathe deeply, and realize that there is always a solution.  I told her that we live right near the school.  I told her that taking 2 minutes after class to tell her teacher that she had to go, and could he please put the copy on her desk, and she will pick it up later – would not have made her late.  We talked about how if you can stop and think, there is always a way to work things out – that we always DO work things out.  She said okay. I followed up with this conversation later – this was not a one time conversation.

Yet we were back to the same theme in the spring conference …

Hater-teacher then segued into the fact that she is not doing well in math.  That she’s “lacking confidence” and “not using her resources” and “not trying hard enough.”  The behavior he explains is very similar to what her 4th grade teacher identified, and things taht we have been attempted to talk her through at home.

Guess what it is?  She hits a wall, and doesn’t know how to move around it without having her hand held.  “I need help!”  “I can’t do this!”  “It’s too hard!”

I pointed that out to him, and again he looked at me like I either a) had two heads, or (this time) b) was an absolute genius.  “Wow.  I never that about that.  You’re right.”  Then he says,  “Well, then.  I’ll have a conversation with her.”  Really?  A conversation?  I never fucking thought of that!  Maybe I’ll go home now, and have a little chat, and then … waa la!  All fixed!  I told him, “Mr. Hater, we’ve been having conversations with E since she was 3.  A ‘conversation’ is not going to fix this.  She is not moving forward like she should be, and so we will have to look at other solutions.”

So I said, “so perhaps this is not only about YOUR irritation with E, but rather something that she needs to work out and deal with — what we’re all doing isn’t working. ”  (Wha?  Huh?  Belittling and driving a child to tears isn’t helping her to work out some behavioral/psychological issues?  why not?)  “Perhaps we need to look at additional resources.”

“No.  E is a great kid.  these are small areas.  She is an A student.  She’s remarkable in English, Social Studies and Science – she’s the lead in the play – she has a lot of friends – she’s a good student.  She doesn’t need additional resources.”

Teacher-Who-Loves-Her went on to say that he totally “gets” her – she’s a social person who does fantastic in those subjects that lend to social exploration of issues.  She’s an excellent thinker and conversationalist, and she keeps all of her classes moving with her lack of fear of taking a minority viewpoint.  The problem is that MATH is not a social subject.  Kids don’t sitting around talking about the fascination of sums and negative numbers.  You can’t bounce mathematical ideas off your classmates.

I appreciate the support, nice-teacher-man, and I appreciate your constant counterpoints to the Hater.

However, the math issue is a small offshoot of the bigger problem (emotional issues – lack of self control/self soothing, self whatever).  And even if it were its OWN problem, a kid can’t kiss math goodbye in 6th grade.  The child needs to conquer this emotional barrier to an intellectual area that she is 1000% capable of doing well in.

Seriously – she had homework a couple weeks ago on the first day of their unit on negative numbers.  She called me at work to say “I can’t do my math.”  This happens at least 2 or 3 times a week.  Almost every time, I say “Alright, E, save it for last, and we’ll look at it when I get home.”  9 times out of those 10, she pulls it out when  I’m home, re-reads the instructions and says, “oh, nevermind, I get it now.  I read the instructions wrong.”

This time, though, it was hard.  I looked at the sheet and thought “crap.  I don’t remember negative numbers.”  But I sat down with her anyway, and we went through it.

I didn’t need to remember negative numbers.  She understood it perfectly.  If I could break down the steps for her, she could sail through them.  She had a full understanding of the number line, and how to move up and down it with adding and subtracting of negatives and positives.  She just needed to see it as a series of ledges, rather than the face of a mountain.

I used to think that her trouble with math was that it doesn’t come as automatically to her as the language arts/social studies area does.  She can’t just dive into the middle and shoot from the hip like she can with literature, writing, history.  She has to actually STOP and THINK, and to her, that feels “wrong” when everything else comes so easy.  But I think I misread it – I think it is more the same exact issue as I described above – an emotional hurdle that she has, and that she needs to master.

I am not happy that her teacher doesn’t like her.  I don’t like that he’s more consumed with his irritation than he is with solutions.  I don’t like that out of the three things he raised as problems, he did not ONE TIME look for reasons, explanations, or underlying problems.  That he was shocked when these connections were pointed out to him.  I think it was nice to have the counter-balance of the teacher-who-loves-her, but the more I thought about it later, the more I felt that the Hater was out of line.

But the reality is, we would be better off if this happened in the younger years, and it is more than likely going to continue to happen (she is not going to have the good fortune of loving all of her teachers from here on out, and they are not going to all love her).  If she wasn’t adored every year until now, perhaps I would have been forced to look outside the school to help E work out these other issues.

Her teachers this year have the entire grade on their radar.  The kids are in classes of 20, but they rotate amongst the teachers for the various subjects.  So while the Hater is her homeroom teacher, he also teaches the other two classes of 6th graders at various parts of the day.  He can’t know every aspect of 60 kids.  And perhaps he teaches 6th grade (as opposed to third, or kindergarten) because he doesn’t WANT to know every aspect of them.  And this is only going to continue.  Next year, the 7th grade teachers also teach 8th grade.  In high school …. well, I don’t need to go on.

And so, I am looking to provide E with the tools that she needs to continue to be that A student that she is more than capable of.  To even have the tools to deal with a personality conflict and not allow it to overcome her perception of school (so far hasn’t happened) and cause her to check out and become the C student her mother was.

I so don’t want her – with all of her abilities and talents – to become the C student that her mother was.

I don’t want her to spend 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th and 11th grades sneering at her teachers, like her mother did.  I want her to keep loving school.  Maybe even more than she does now.  I want her to look at intellectual pursuits as fun.  (Debate team, perhaps?)

I am not sure what the answer is.  I toyed with tutoring – with therapy – and wondered if there was something in between.  Is there a “behavioral training” or an “emotional coach”?  I want her to have coping skills.  Seems more concrete than “therapy.”  I mean, I’m sure therapy is great, and will help her in an overall manner.  Of course when i spoke to the intake coordinator, the second they hear that she lives with her mother and step-father, and her father and step-mother live out of state, they’re all over her – of COURSE she needs therapy!!!  And perhaps that’s true.

But I really want to be sure that she gets real hard and fast tools as well.  Something Beloved and I have tried so hard to give her, but nothing “sticks.”  We talk to her about ways to calm herself down – to take a moment to focus her mind.  She says okay, and we see her try for at least a week.  But then she stops, and when we remind her, she rolls her eyes at us.

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Posting has been light, but with good reason.  The kids’ school play was this past weekend, wherein E was one of the leads, and J was an adorable little singer & dancer.  I, meanwhile, was on the “production team,” and ended up spending every spare moment – both at work and at home – dealing with various play-related issues.

Because of the play, and the importance of it to E, we had a few other things going on this weekend –The Ex was in town; my parents came for the day; and I, in my infinite wisdom, decided to schedule E’s parent-teacher conference for Friday, thinking that I would be at the school all day anyway.

But uh, Zuska?  Did you forget?  You have a job.  It’s sort of full time.

This whole thing worked to force my firm to live up to their oft-stated promises of being a place where work-life balance can be achieved.  I will find out tomorrow (maybe) if there is any fall out to my proclamation of unavailability.

The balancing of the two universes in my life gave me great stress.  It was very uncomfortable, and tense for me.  I did not have uncomfortable interactions (well, sort of one, but I think it was okay), but I had stress and guilt emanating from my very soul.  I am so glad it’s behind me.  (Although I still have a twinge of bad-feelings due to the fact that I am taking the week after next as a vacation week.)

Once that was all folded up into its work box, I was able to shift my stresses to the personal realm.

And how.

In order of events:

  1. I have my first ever negative parent-teacher conference about E;
  2. The ex shows up and drops a summer-related bomb on me during the intermission of the kids’ show – and would not let it go despite several repetitions of “i don’t want to talk about this right now.”
  3. My parents came for the day, bringing all their accouterments and noise;
  4. E woke up on the day of her second show with a scratchy voice, stuffy nose, and persistent cough;
  5. My parents and the Ex and his wife, and Beloved all had to wait in line for the play together for an HOUR, standing no more than 3 feet away from each other.  (That’s where the civility came in – thank you to all.)
  6. Beloved was assigned (by me) a play-related job that required us to partner in dealing with the actors and the cues and such – it didn’t work out so well, and we had the great pleasure of having an in-public argument.  I think people noticed.
  7. I was recognized publicly for my work on the play, with a spotlight on my face.  I hate being in front of a crowd.  Ptooey.
  8. My work at the play included being sure that people weren’t sneaking in to “save seats” and keeping the right people in the right places.  SEVERAL people now refer to me as “that bitch over there,” because unless someone was blind (there were two of them) or otherwise impaired, they were waiting in the fucking line with the rest of the universe (including my family and my children).

It is no small feat that my parents and the Ex managed to stay civil.  I was very worried.  Wanna know how worried?  Here is a funny story.

I told my mom on the phone about the Ex’s stunt re: the summer, while she was driving here from Connecticut.  She was lamenting the fact that she had to see him, and was promising me that she would not even acknowledge his existence.  Which I knew could be very awkward, since I knew they both wanted to be first in line (the line that other people felt too special to go into) so they could have good seats in a sold-out show to see their daughter/granddaughter.

While the parents were finishing their drive, I was e-mailing the ex about the fact that he dropped the fact that tickets to a cruise have been bought by his mother for a week that he does not have the kids, and for a week that Beloved and I planned on taking them to Maine for vacation.

Then the parents arrived.  Mom asked me for a book.  I gave her “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter,” which I must say I didn’t like so very much, and found quite UNremarkable, but thought she would like.  She doesn’t like my favorite books.  She finds them “too hard.”  So I’ve learned to give her books that I find to be a bit …. thin.  She read the back of the book outloud.  It’s about a doctor, who because of a blizzard ends up delivering his own children.  One is born a perfectly normal boy, the other a girl with Downs Syndrome (This is all on the back of the book, I’m giving nothing away)  He turns to his nurse (tiny little sole practitioner office, his nurse his only employee) and tells her to take the baby to a home.  His wife is unconscious.  The nurse instead keeps the baby and moves to another city to raise her.

A beat goes by.  Perhaps other topics discussed.  Then:

Mom:  I am mad at him already

Me:  Mom, please don’t talk about this right now (because I just know she’s talking about the Ex, despite the fact that J is curled up on the couch with her).

Mom:  What?  I’m entitled to my feelings.  Maybe I’ll change my mind, but right now, I’m mad.

Me:  MOM!  I am serious, I need you to not discuss this right now.

Mom:  [sticks her tongue out at me]

Me:  I am NOT kidding!  If you don’t stop right now, I am going to need to talk to you in the other room.

Mom:  You are being very unfair.  I’m not saying anything but my own feelings and I’m entitled to my feelings.

Me:  RIGHT now, you need to come with me in to the other room.

[she gets up with me and comes into my bedroom]

Me:  The girls do NOT need to know that anything is going on, I don’t want you to …..   [her perplexed expression causes my brain to click into gear.]  oh.  You were talking about the doctor, weren’t you?

Mom:  What ELSE would I be talking about?

Me:   I am sooooo sorry!  I thought you were talking about the Ex!!

Mom:  NO!!

Nice one, Zuska.

J later said that she knew we must have been talking about different things, because she knew I would never get so mad about her just talking about a BOOK.  At least she knows that about me.  And is not thinking that she has an irrational control-freak bitch of a mother.

Like I said to my mother – I guess we now know what’s at the forefront of MY mind.

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