Darlings, do you mind if I tell you, one more time, a sad, family story? I promise you, it has relevance to weight loss efforts and I’ll segue the family drama to an apt point about willpower…..(I hope)….

Today I called my sister in South Africa early in the a.m., in that time of the day that I’ve come to cherish, where only a few people are in at the office and it’s quiet and I can gather my thoughts and take care of a few personal things. I feel obliged to mention that, lest you think I’m stealing from the company’s phone account, I use a service at www.nobelcom.com or maybe it’s noblecom, and I have a pin that I type in and it doesn’t cost my company a cent. I top up my account with $20 every other month, just so that in case I need to call Africa from work, I can.

Brenda…that’s my sister, has been sending cheery, friendly emails to our mother, offering up tidbits of her life and the new and wonderful things she’s learning to do, and how her new husband Paul is so supportive, and what a wonderful cook he is and….well you get the picture. Our mum, Iris, has not yet responded to the most recent batch of emails. She’s not buying any of it, and has nothing much to say that is in any way positive about any of it either, which is a shame, I think. During our phone call, Brenda mentioned our mum’s lack of response, to which I offered that I’m sure she would soon write back, that she’s just slowing down. Somehow, though, that whole wound from last year opened up again. Brenda continued that she knew our mother was just giving her the cold shoulder, that she accepts that our mother has “cut her dead”, because that’s what our mother does when you don’t dance to her tune (Brenda’s words, not mine). The sad thing is, Brenda’s not far off, but she’s wrong if she thinks our mother doesn’t love her. I told her that I know she’s loved. I’m sure of it. I offered, yet again, my observation that maybe if she’d just have apologised for what happened….. Oops. Big mistake. That made her really mad, and she started to rant. I couldn’t even get one single word in. It is my sister’s contention that she had no control over things that occurred last year and that our mother should have been more supportive of what she was going through. She pointed out that our mother has done some awful things over the years (she was pretty graphic) and that no one demanded an apology, so why should she apologise? Actually, Brenda didn’t say apologise, she said grovel. Brenda’s not entirely wrong about our mother, I truly know she’s not totally right either. First of all, Brenda really was responsible for at least some of what happened, our mother is almost 80 years old, and out of respect for that, an apology would have been appropriate. To be honest, and I said this, if anyone was waiting for an apology it is me. I hold my sister to a high standard. Our mum doesn’t expect an apology, but it is for the saddest of reasons…she doesn’t hold Brenda to that kind of standard. It would have been appropriate. It’s what GROWN UPS do! I never got to say this though. Brenda is holding on to some pretty huge and serious anger at our mother for things she remembers Iris doing (or not doing), but at the same time she’s desperate for validation and approval. Therein lies the rub:
Brenda cannot think of apologising, and our mother will never readily give her approval. Neither of them will get what they want. Brenda is not entirely wrong about our mum. June Cleaver she’ll never be. Shortly after our call, Brenda sent an angry and emotional email to our mum, copying me in. Oy!

How is it that I love, LOVE, them both and yet I could literally shake each of them until their teeth rattle?

After work, I arrived home and went in to dear Iris’ room to say “hi”, and while I was hugging her hello, she suddenly burst into tears. Nothing at all to do with my sister….she said to me that she just feels terribly depressed and doesn’t know why. I was relieved she hadn’t seen the email from my sister, she would have been a thousand zillion times worse, and chickees, I’m all alone here when it comes to dealing with the fallout, and it is never easy.

So, what did I do?

1. Well, much earlier on in the day, since I felt frustrated because my sister wouldn’t even let me explain anything, I wrote a strongly worded email trying to explain, again, why I thought an apology would have been appropriate. In the end, though, I held on to my email for a couple of hours. After I cooled down, I composed what I hoped was a more conciliatory email and sent that instead.

2. I logged on to my mom’s email and deleted my sister’s email and emptied the trash. Iris will never see it.

Okay,
Bzzzzzzt!
I know, wrong. Unethical. Could I be charged in court? Was that mail fraud?

3. Once home, after issuing a few “there, theres” and engaging in some firm shoulder patting, I cajoled my mom out of her room, inviting her to chat to me while I cooked. And, no, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t bother to go there….I don’t expect her to cook for us, although she does occasionally try. Warm and loving she may not always be, but lazy, never. Frankly, she’s been having trouble cooking for awhile now. She uses up a week’s worth of ingredients and manages to overcook pretty much everything, and then feels terrible about it and apologetic and it all just gets her more depressed - it’s better if she doesn’t cook. Trust me. Besides, it’s one thing that I truly love doing anyway. Iris cheered up immensely, and while in the kitchen, found the strength to pass on her observations about the things around our house that need attending to, that are shamefully un-taken-care-of and so on…and she remembered in detail some of the mean people who have done her wrong.
6. Six? Goes to show you, bad day.
I ate. Two chicken legs with skin on (even though I had done skinless boneless portions for myself), a hearty helping of spinach with cream sauce (I never make this, but tonight I did because Neil loves it, even though I had planned ahead and set aside some without cream sauce - and oh, God, I made a cream sauce to die for) and a hearty dollop of mashed potato. We’re talking 3/4 of a day’s worth of WW points. I also poured myself wine.
Hmmmmmmm!!!!?????.

Right after dinner, while NOT helping with the clean-up, Roseanne and Jessica had a fight over stolen clothing in each other’s closets. Jessica flung about her horrible swear words, and even though her voice is louder and more strident (really, she and Ethel Merman are in the same league) and she swears and you want to throttle her, Roseanne cut her to the quick with this quietly spoken but deadly little arrow: “I don’t need to argue with you! You’re not smart enough to even bother arguing with.” Aaaaaaaaaaargh. That’ll do Jessica the Bolshevik in for a week! She can be so horrible, but she is terribly terribly sensitive. And she’s not stupid. Work ethic not so hot, but not stupid.

So I poured another glass of wine.

Round, I think, said she’s documenting her patterns, looking for the places where she makes mistakes. I read that and thought, ooooh, good idea. Apply the kind of analysis you use for work and business to your daily decision making process. I think I’ll try that! Hey!

NEWS FLASH! I think I found something here!

Okay, if you’ve read through my whole, long winded (as usual) blog, I’ll tell you two extra nice things that happened today:

1. I noticed that Neil loves me.
2. I received a completly unexpected bonus check from my company.

and here’s a bonus….
Carolina Moonie Junie is coming up from Virginia tomorrow after work to visit and pack things for her new home - she and two friends found a house in North Arlington.

All of us, Neil, the stressed husband of the stressed me, Roseanne and Jessica and Iris adore Caroline, and we can’t wait for her to be home.