family, love, relationships, religion

No, I really AM a pseudo granny, and that’s okay…

It’s Wednesday, which means Bill will be home in a couple of days. On Saturday, we’ll pack up and go away… and boy, am I ready to go! I miss the days when we took short trips more frequently, instead of long trips every few months. But I also know this is very much a first world problem, as a lot of people don’t get to go anywhere. I think one of the reasons we stay in Europe is because we have an excuse to travel. In the States, it’s harder to get away, and there is no built in excuse. Americans who live in Europe are expected to get away and see the continent. Of course, most don’t wind up staying here for as long as we have so far.

Yesterday, I heard from Bill’s younger daughter. She’s been under the weather, as her kids– all of whom are very young– have also been sick. Younger daughter is currently pregnant, so that adds to the challenges she’s facing. Still, she managed to send a very cheerful email, so I sent her a response that included some photos of the adventure her dad and I enjoyed over the weekend.

In case you didn’t know, Bill and I visited a cave on Saturday. It was kind of tiring, but worth the effort. The pictures I sent prompted some questions. I don’t think younger daughter has ever visited a cave, so she didn’t know that they almost always require a steep walk up and down lots of stairs. I had to tell her why it was so challenging for me. I also explained why we wore hard hats (low ceilings in the cave).

We recently sent younger daughter a special care package. We usually send stuff for the kids, but this time, we sent stuff more intended for their very busy mom. I’ve previously described the contents of the care package, but for those who don’t want to look, it contained: a pair of Irish wool socks, skin cream, soaps, ginger lemon bon bons for nausea, a couple of bracelets made by a local artisan, gummi frogs, Dutch chocolate, Milkas (a local candy bar), and stroopwafels (Dutch syrup/honey cookies).

Because I have some friends who know about the extremely difficult history Bill has had with his daughters (one of whom is still completely estranged), I shared a Facebook post about the care package. Most people reacted in a positive way, although there were a few comments that were less than supportive. One person accused me of “tempting” younger daughter with junk. I suppose that could be true, although younger daughter has shown us that she is a competent adult, and I think she’s fully capable of enjoying things responsibly. Even if she isn’t, my not sending her a care package isn’t going to stop her if she wants to eat junk food.

The last thing I want to do is assume that it’s my place to advise or nag Bill’s younger daughter about something as personal as her diet. I am not her mother, but even if I were, I wouldn’t do that. My parents used to harass me about my weight and eating habits. It was toxic. So I won’t do that to younger daughter, nor will I deny her things that she likes or specifically requests because I think I know what’s “best” for her health. The reality is, I don’t know. Her doctor or another healthcare professional can advise her about such things. Or maybe Ex can do it, if she’s so inclined… although I think younger daughter mostly lets what Ex says go in one ear and out the other.

The second thing that happened is an issue that has come up a few times, ever since Bill became a grandfather. I very recently started jokingly referring to myself as a “pseudo granny”. It took a really long time before I even did that.

A lot of people seem to think it’s somehow “wrong” that I call myself “pseudo granny”, so they try to “correct” me. People who know me well, probably already know that generally speaking, I don’t like to be corrected, especially on things like this. I mean, if I’m factually wrong about something, then yeah, go ahead and correct me in a polite way. I’ll even thank you for that. When it comes to things like what I want to be called or how I think of myself, my own opinion is probably worth more than someone else’s.

More than once, well-meaning people have told me that I’m more like a “real granny”. Or if they don’t say that, they say I should refer to myself as a “bonus granny”. The vast majority of these people do not really understand the very complicated history regarding Bill and his kids. When they “correct” me for calling myself “pseudo granny”, I then feel compelled to explain to them that I have literally only met my husband’s daughters in person ONCE… and it was over 20 years ago!

I know this isn’t the norm. Most “stepmothers” know their stepchildren very well, and some know them a lot better than they’d like to. But in my case, Bill’s ex wife REFUSED to let him have any contact with his kids, which means I didn’t have any contact with them, either. Unfortunately, Bill didn’t fight Ex in court over her decision to annihilate Bill’s influence over his children, as she continued to take $2550 from him in child support every month for YEARS. I truly wish Bill had sued Ex for at least joint custody. She had no right to do what she did to Bill and his daughters. But it was NOT MY DECISION, because legally, I have no rights to them. They aren’t my daughters. Moreover, Bill’s girls are now grown women, so that’s water under the bridge, anyway.

Since I have only met younger daughter in person once, I barely feel like a stepmother, let alone a “bonus granny”. We are still just getting to know each other. Aside from that, even if she had grown up with me in her life, I don’t like the idea of adopting such a personal role without the other person’s knowledge and consent. I know a lot of people think that when you marry someone with kids, you are obligated to love them as if they are your own. I think that’s a nice thought, and I really admire those who can do that, especially when the sentiment is reciprocated. However, I think it’s actually pretty uncommon that people truly do feel that way, deep down. Sure, a lot of people SAY they do, but I think the reality is often a lot more complicated than that.

I also don’t think anyone should be shamed for not automatically having those intense feelings of familial love toward their stepparents or stepchildren. My personal opinion is that if people who marry those with children are able to achieve an authentic friendship, that’s pretty awesome stuff. If they achieve a genuine and uncomplicated “parent/child” dynamic, and manage not to step on anyone else’s toes, that’s even better. Experience has taught me, however, that those situations are pretty unusual. Again, people will say they have, but the reality is, a lot of times, they’re really just saying that. It isn’t necessarily the truth. It’s just what society likes to hear.

I’m a pretty honest person. I like to be authentic. I am very real about the difficult relationship Bill and his daughters have had, as well as the non-existent relationship I have had with them for so many years. Again… older daughter is completely estranged from Bill, and apparently thinks of #3 as her “real dad” (who was around long after she was out of diapers and lived on Bill’s money for years). Younger daughter says she never thought of #3 as her dad, but was forced to call him “Dad” by her mother, who thought it was vital for her kids to treat her third husband as their father in order for their marriage to survive. I don’t know why she felt that way. She made ex stepson call Bill “Dad”, and when it came down to it, he eventually abandoned Bill for his “real dad” (who never even paid child support, let alone visited). As you now know, Bill and Ex didn’t stay married, either.

So, for my own sake and younger daughter’s, I don’t want to rush into assuming I am in any kind of true familial relationship with younger daughter or her family. Experience has taught me that family ties, when it comes to Ex, are temporary and transactional. Not that I think younger daughter is anything like Ex, but I do know she’s been subjected to Ex’s lies and manipulations, and she’s been forced to think of people as family when they aren’t. She’s also been forced to abandon actual family members in favor of Ex’s matrimonial flavor of the decade (eye roll). In fact, younger daughter is only just now getting to know her only living biological grandparent– Bill’s mom– because Ex substituted Bill’s stepmother for Bill’s mother in the “granny” role and REFUSED to let Bill’s daughters know their grandmother.

I would be very honored if Bill’s grandchildren ever thought of me as a “granny” of any kind to them, pseudo or not. But I’ve learned not to have any expectations of that. Assuming they would ever think of me in that way is an invitation to break my own heart. Moreover, it’s entirely up to them to make the decision as to what I “am” to them.

But also, as much as I despise Bill’s ex wife, she is the actual grandmother to those children. And I wouldn’t want to do to her what she’s done to so many other people, who have gotten close to her and her children, because I think it’s WRONG. Ex has a habit of using her children as currency at the beginnings of her relationships, and weapons as the ends. I refuse to allow that to happen to me, or to innocent children.

Right now, I’m reading a very good true story about a woman whose Jewish mother died when she was a child. Her father, who was Christian, remarried a very conservative Christian woman. From the very beginning, this woman was expected to call her stepmother “Mom”, even though she’d had a mom she adored, remembered clearly, and dearly missed. She was physically punished when she referred to her stepmother as her “father’s wife”, or called her by her first name. Not only that, but the author was also uprooted from her home, moved to another state, and put in a very shitty Christian pseudo-school, where she was forced to learn/self-teach by using fundie tinged “booklets” that were full of creationist bullshit. She was also forced to deny her mother’s Jewish heritage, and replace it with her stepmother’s brand of evangelical Christianity. It was almost like a weird form of familial ethnic cleansing!

As a child, not that long after her mother’s death, this poor lady went to visit her Jewish grandmother (at least her dad let her maintain ties with her mother’s mom). She told her grandmother she was going to go to Hell because she wasn’t a Christian! Grandma, to her credit, called up former son-in-law and ripped him a new asshole for filling her granddaughter’s head with such offensive and confusing bullshit.

Imagine how traumatizing that was for the author at the time, and right now, as she’s written this book about how her father and his second wife tried to change her entire identity! What happened to her is actually pretty SICK, just as Ex’s attempt to obliterate Bill from his daughter’s memory is also very sick and wrong. Thank God it failed. I hope to finish the book soon, so I can properly review it. It’s a story I want to share with my readers.

Anyway… I know there are people out there who don’t agree with my thoughts on this. I know a lot of people have had different experiences than mine. Some of my friends are stepparents who have truly stepped into the parent role, and I do heartily applaud them for that. Especially if the reality is that those kids genuinely do see them as true parent figures. I tend to take people who make those kinds of claims at their words, unless they give me a good reason not to do that.

I, for one, am more of a realist, particularly when it comes to my own situation. And in MY situation, I don’t think I yet qualify as a granny, or a bonus granny. I barely feel like a “pseudo granny”, if I’m honest. Maybe I will feel more like a real granny or bonus granny in time. But then, maybe I won’t, and that will be okay, if that’s how it turns out in the end.

For now, I will keep calling myself “pseudo granny” , and I will not refer to Bill’s grandchildren as “mine”… at least not yet. Not until they can return the sentiment and actually mean it. It’s for my own good, as well as theirs. I hope people can respect that.

Younger daughter, by the way, did receive the care package yesterday. She was delighted with it. I think it got to her just at the nick of time, as she recovers from the residual microbial crud brought to her by her children. I hope the package from her dad and “pseudo granny” will put smiles on their faces. I do enjoy shopping for people who appreciate my efforts.

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condescending twatbags, love, marriage, relationships, social media

It’s not all bon-bons, wine boxes, and daytime TV, you know…

Today’s featured photo was taken from our car as we drove through Italy, on the way north. It’s a place called Silandro/Schlanders, and it’s in the Sud Tyrolean region. I’m thinking I’d like to go there with Bill, which I can easily do, since I’m a childfree homemaker.

Before I get too cranked up with today’s post, I want to thank those who took the time to read yesterday’s post, which did get some decent traffic. I got a few nice Facebook comments that were also much appreciated. Honestly, yesterday’s post was created out of my lack of a burning topic to write about, other than politics and religion. I just didn’t feel like going there yesterday, although I know there is a lot I could discuss.

Like, for instance, yesterday I did read a story about how some guy broke into a Latter-day Saint meetinghouse in Provo, Utah, where he proceeded to steal and eat four chicken nuggets. For this crime, he is now facing a third degree felony charge of burglary. Yes, it’s ridiculous, and yes I could rant about it… and maybe I eventually will.

The problem is, that kind of post has a limited shelf life. Moreover, while I could write about how ironic it is that the Mormons, who usually pride themselves on helping the down and out, are pressing charges against an apparently hungry man, I just don’t feel like it today. I do agree that it was wrong for the guy to break into the church and steal chicken nuggets. But I also hope the local prosecutor has some common sense.

Anyway, moving on to today’s actual topic…

Yesterday, I happened to see an Am I the Asshole (AITA) post on “God’s” Facebook page that made me pause. It was about a guy who asked if he was the asshole for mocking his date for wanting to be a “childfree housewife”. If you know me, you know why I stopped to read the post and its comments. Basically, that’s been my life situation since 2002.

Below is the original Reddit post:

My opinion? Yes, you are the asshole for laughing… and for not having a broad enough perspective to realize that a lot of people have done the ‘impossible” and found someone to “take that deal”. I happen to be one of them.

I hasten to add, being a childfree housewife was never my goal. I did plan to have a career, and I also wanted children. That just isn’t how my life went. I realize that the way my situation turned out isn’t the norm, but it’s not completely unheard of, either. While I can understand why the guy on Reddit chuckled at the woman he was dating, I also think people who mock other people– especially when they clearly haven’t done a lot of thinking about the reason they’re mocking– are usually assholes. And in this case, I can see why this fellow is still looking for a wife.

I read quite a few comments, many of which seemed to come from men who claim that this arrangement would be totally unfair. Other comments came from women who seemed angry, and were kind of seething about it, as if they were envious. A few people were reasonable. One lady said she’d like to be a “stay at home dog mom” and wondered if that’s a thing. I’m here to tell her that yes, indeed, being a dog mom is a thing for some of us.

I didn’t really want to share my story, because I knew it would likely invite shitty comments from people. So I just wrote:

“It’s not a bad gig.”

And it’s not, in my case. I pretty much do what I like most days, although I do have housekeeping chores that I stick to. I’m not expected or required to do these things. It’s not like Bill will come home and scream at me if I forget to wash the sheets or something. I do the chores because they keep the house running smoothly and help us maintain basic hygiene. Bill and I aren’t neat freaks, but we do like our environment to be basically clean and pleasant. So yes, I do housework. So does he, when he’s available. He also does most of the cooking, although I taught him a lot of what he knows.

I woke up to a comment from some chick named Jodi who decided to tell me off. Here’s what she wrote, unedited:

Being stuck with no funds and under the financial control of someone who knows you depend on them to keep a roof over your head isn’t a great gig. Being a guy’s maid/cook/therapist/errand-runner/personal assistant and bang maid, all unpaid, sounds like utter hell. Dudes wouldn’t jump at this situation as much as they do, if they didn’t plan on taking full advantage of it and benefitting from it themselves.

Wow… I think Jodi’s been hanging around the wrong kinds of men. Below is my response:

It really depends on the situation and the people involved, doesn’t it? Not all men are like that. 

I hadn’t planned to be a “stay at home wife” when I met my husband, but he was in the Army, and we moved constantly… I’m talking 5 times in 7 years! And we don’t have children because he had them in his first marriage and got snipped. Then we moved to Europe, where he works as a contractor, and it’s not so easy for a spouse to get a career type job if they don’t have a military background (which I don’t).

But we’re celebrating 21 years in November. We get along beautifully and have a great life. And no, I don’t sit on my ass all day and eat bon-bons, nor am I stuck with no funds and no say in anything. We are a partnership, and function as such. I know my situation is not the norm, but it’s probably not as uncommon as some folks on this post seem to think.

I mean, there’s a whole lot more to my story than that. If you’ve been reading my blog, you probably already know some of it. When I was younger, I certainly didn’t aspire to do what I do in 2023. I did want to be a writer, but I never expected that writing would actually be how I earn what little money I do make. I probably could make more money if I tried. In the past, I made over $40 an hour writing and researching for different organizations. But that was as a freelancer in the Washington, DC area. Obviously I don’t live there anymore, and when you move all the time, it becomes very difficult to make connections. I’m not proud of it but, with Bill’s blessing, I eventually quit trying. Much to my surprise, it’s all worked out fine.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about the future. Bill and I both know that things can change in a heartbeat. For that reason, I’ve been saving and investing money for years. With his blessing, every time Bill gets paid, I invest a few hundred dollars. What started as a one thousand dollar investment is now well over 50 times that. We have several certificates of deposits, a few savings accounts, life insurance policies for both of us, and at least one IRA (Bill handles that part). I also stay out of debt as much as possible. We paid off all of my credit cards and my student loans. I research things so Bill doesn’t have to. For example, it’s because of my insistence that we got German legal insurance, which certainly came in handy for us.

I wanted to have children, and we did try. Bill had his vasectomy reversed. It didn’t work out for us, and we couldn’t/didn’t want to spend the money for help with our fertility issues. In the early years, we struggled for money, and I couldn’t see going further into debt for the chance to have a baby– even though it would have been comparatively inexpensive through the military. However, going through IVF or another treatment also would have been very impractical, as in the years after Bill had the vasectomy reversal surgery, he went to Iraq.

Then, we moved to Germany the first time. That put us in proximity to the Czech Republic, where some Americans have gone for relatively inexpensive fertility treatments. I’ve read that the Czech Republic is actually one of the best places to get affordable and effective fertility treatments. For a variety of reasons, we didn’t want to go that route ourselves. More power to those who did have children that way. I think I just got to the point at which I was getting older and decided that the chance to be someone’s mother wasn’t a deal breaker in our relationship. Frankly, seeing how the world is faring these days makes me glad I didn’t have children, even if people negatively judge me for having that view.

Living in Germany has been good for us financially– Bill is paid well for what he does. He also has a military retirement that will not end for me if he predeceases me. We are also not going to get divorced. I know a lot of people say that, but if you know us, you know we ain’t gonna be splitting up, because we’re just way too compatible. Well… I probably shouldn’t say that, because you know– you should “never say never”, and I don’t want to tempt fate. But we do have a very solid marriage. We get along beautifully and have a lot of fun. Neither of us has any desire to ever date again. So, barring a completely bizarre situation, I highly doubt we’ll ever be divorcing.

The bottom line is, our method is working fine for us. That doesn’t mean it would work for everyone, nor would I necessarily encourage other people to do what we did. The way I fell into this lifestyle was completely ridiculous and very unexpected on every level. I didn’t aspire to be a housewife, nor did I think I’d be married to a guy in the military. I also never dreamed I’d marry such a kind and generous man. But I fell in love, and I wouldn’t trade my husband for a spot in a cubicle. He treats me like gold. I’d be a complete fool to sacrifice our relationship for the sake of my pride. Our lifestyle is simple, because there’s only one career to manage. That means it’s easier to take trips together, which gives me stuff to write about. It’s also easier when we have to move.

When Bill and I met, I was engaged in a dual degree graduate program that I hoped would finally lead me out of jobs in retail and restaurants. Had I not met him, I probably would be working in Atlanta or D.C. or somewhere else I could use my public health and social work background and international skills. Maybe I would have stayed in South Carolina so I could help turn the state purple with my liberal votes (I can dream, can’t I?).

Clearly, as you can see, that’s not what happened. I met Bill, and he was not in a job where we could choose to stay where I had a career, nor would we want to do that. Some military couples do choose to be separate for certain assignments, so they can both tend to their careers. For many reasons, we didn’t want to do that. The main one is that we enjoy each other’s company too much. And yes, I could get a job– probably even here in Wiesbaden– but it would certainly not be the kind of work I’d want to do… and honestly, we don’t currently need the money. However, there are other Americans in the military community here that do need the work. They can have the job I might have taken, if I’d decided to work somewhere.

I’ve done a lot of thinking about my lot in life. When you’re an overeducated housewife, you have the time to do that. 😉 People have judged me a lot for my choices. I’ve gotten a ration of shit from everyone– from people in my family, to complete strangers on the Internet. Some people think I’m an asshole simply for the title of this blog. They don’t know me, nor do they know the path that put me where I am.

The thing is, I can’t really complain about where I am. I live in a safe, beautiful country that is close to other safe, beautiful countries. I have a wonderful, kind, hardworking, compatible husband who loves me and treats me very well, in spite of my obnoxious personality and fluffy figure. We have more than enough for our needs. So, being a “childfree stay at home spouse” works fine for me… at least for now. I don’t think I made the wrong choices. In fact, looking at my life, I can’t say I’ve made a lot of bad choices. They just aren’t the choices we children of the 70s and 80s were told we should be making.

I’m not saying everyone can or should follow my example. I’m just saying there’s more than one way to get through life. Not everyone’s path is going to be the same. Some people are luckier than others are, and some people make the most of what they have to create good situations. I do think I was lucky, but I also do my part to give us a nice lifestyle, and I am every bit as involved as Bill is in the planning of our life together. It’s not all bon-bons, wine boxes, and daytime TV, you know… 😉

So, that’s my commentary for today. Now to finish this post and tend to Noyzi’s bedding… and maybe our own bedding. I’ve got things to do that don’t involve watching Dr. Phil or dining on Hot Pockets. I might do some music today, too. Catch you all tomorrow, barring anything strange or bizarre happening. 😉

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love, marriage, relationships, Twitter

I sure do appreciate my man’s “feminine side”…

A little mood music for this post… Some might say I married a SNAG (sensitive new age guy).

God bless my sensitive new age guy… who does like to talk about his feelings, but doesn’t dress like Richard Simmons. He also cares about my orgasms.

It’s a blissfully quiet and peaceful Saturday morning. All of the home improvement work has been done, and the home invaders are wherever it is they’re living on the wrong side of the tracks. I base that, of course, only on their boorish behavior when they were in my home. For all I know, they are perfect gentlemen when they aren’t working. 😀

The carpenter came here yesterday, behaved in a respectable and courteous way, and quietly did his work for a few hours. His job was all done outside, and he even climbed up to the balconies using a ladder. Using a ladder certainly wasn’t my specific requirement; it was apparently what worked best for him. So that process went just fine. Now the job is done, and I can relax.

After yesterday’s blog ranting was over, I felt somewhat better. I did some chores, like washing ALL of the bed linens on my bed, which got polluted with dust. I walked Noyzi and watched a movie. I was calmly sitting in the bedroom, trying to stay cool, when Bill came home. He had a lovely bouquet of flowers in his hand and a very sweet expression on his face. “For you.” he said, handing the bright bouquet to me.

This man is such a thoughtful, considerate, sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?

“Awwww… that is so nice! Thank you!” I replied.

“I just wanted to brighten up your day. I know you’ve had a really hard week.” Bill added.

“Thanks! I really appreciate it!” I said with a big smile.

I couldn’t help but laugh, though, because of a tweet I saw by Ex. As usual, it was part funny, and part ludicrous. She used to be married to this kind, pleasant, gentle man, the kind of man who brings flowers to his wife when she’s stressed out, and will come home with red wine, steaks, and chocolate when Aunt Flow is visiting (which hasn’t happened in a few months).

Bill is a man who doesn’t get pissy when a guilty pleasure song by Air Supply comes on my HomePod, and will happily listen to me talk about funny scenes from The Golden Girls. This is a dude that knows what kind of face cream I use and will happily fetch some for me when he goes to the post exchange during the work week. He’s bought me the right feminine hygiene supplies, too… again, when it was necessary. Bill also sometimes cries when he visits churches and art museums. He loves to read literature and study psychology, and he’s very perceptive and compassionate.

I once watched him comfort my father when my dad had severe dementia. My dad was very agitated, because he was upset about being in a rehab facility. He had always been a man who was in charge of his own realities. But there my father was, disoriented and angry, sick in every sense of the word, with several days of beard growth and clothes that hung from his newly thin body. He was wearing inflatable compression socks that he hated, and was trying to remove them as he was muttering to us, asking for our “input”. Bill recognized that my dad was talking like the seasoned Air Force officer he’d once been before he retired in 1978.

I watched my husband gently push on the inflatable compression sock my dad had been trying to remove as he said, “Sir, don’t worry, we’ve got the mission covered. You need to rest and recover so you can get back into the fight.”

My dad immediately calmed down, and we were able to leave. Bill took us out to dinner at a tavern called Park Lane. My dad had stayed quiet for a short time before a nurse called my mom and asked her to return to the facility and help calm down my dad again. Mom blew a gasket and yelled at the nurse. She was exhausted and fed up with paying people to do a job that they seemingly weren’t able to do. Bill calmly took us back to my mom’s apartment and made my mom a Manhattan (her favorite cocktail).

This is a really good guy, folks. He’s the opposite of a “prick”. And yet, this is what Ex tweeted yesterday…

“Most men, indeed. I asked my brother what happens to little boys to turn them into PR1CKS, when they grow up. He said they are forced to ignore their feminine side. Thoughts?”

There are so many thoughts that come to my head as I read that. I’m in a unique position to know some things about Ex. I know that she spent almost ten years married to a man who never fails to think of other people. In spite of his 30 years in the Army, my husband is a man who is very much in touch with his feminine side. He’s also one of the most non-dickish men I have ever known. I’m grateful she divorced him so it was possible for him to marry me. I am enjoying his company immensely.

I don’t know what it takes to please Ex, apart from sending her a man made out of her wildest fantasies, capable of instantly changing himself to suit her every whim before she has the chance to dream up whatever will satisfy her on any given day. All I know is that my husband thought enough of me this week to remember me with some flowers. Then, he cooked me dinner… and breakfast, come to think of it. Right now, he’s walking the dog.

I told Bill what Ex tweeted, and he seemed surprised. He knew her brother, and let’s just say he’s not the most introspective person. When Ex’s adoptive father died (whom she met for the first time when she was 7 years old), there was a 21 gun salute, because he’d been a veteran. The shells were supposed to be divided among his grandchildren. Ex’s brother gathered them up and kept them for himself. Ex’s father also left her three eldest children a total of $15,000 in his will. Ex used it on a down payment for a house, which later went into foreclosure. Seems to me that she’s not one who can really talk about what constitutes “prick” behavior in other people. She’s continually proven that she’s the female version of that, herself. 😉

Anyway… it’s not my circus and not my monkeys… but I did find that an interesting comment from Ex. I KNOW she was married to a man who is in touch with his feminine side, but is still all MAN. That wasn’t enough for her. Fortunately, it is more than enough for me.

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home, love, narcissists, relationships, TV

“I know he loves me… but…” (it’s not enough)

Happy Thursday, everybody. I’ve been waiting all week for today. It should be the last day of the home invasion. Once they’re out of my house, I can clean up the last of the mess and get back to a somewhat normal life. Tomorrow, we’ll be visited by a carpenter who will do some minor work, and then I can go back to being my usual, cheerful, plucky self, free to pursue all manner of happiness and spiritual fulfillment. Edited to add… I caught the invaders sitting outside with their feet up on my outside chairs, today. Maybe I should have learned a trade instead of going to college. Clearly, they aren’t expected to be professional or have basic manners when they work.

I’m being silly, of course. I’ll always have a gripe about something. It’s my nature. 😀 But, there’s one area where I have few complaints, and that would be in my choice of spouses. I truly adore my husband. No, he’s not perfect, but he’s pretty damned excellent. I often can’t believe how very fortunate we were to find each other. But I know I’ve mentioned it plenty of times in this blog, so I won’t go on with that topic today. There ain’t no need for that.

Today, I want to write about Ex. It’s been awhile since I last upbraided her, and we’re long overdue… and besides, writing about her will keep me from complaining about the window guys. I do know they’re working hard, and they do good work. I just get freaked out by strangers in my territory who step on boundaries. In that manner, I’m not unlike our recently departed beagle mix, Arran… however, I do manage to do my business where it belongs. The hot weather this week is reminding me that Arran never was the best at peeing outside.

Ex was recently on Twitter, posting once again about the wonders of Outlander, and its male star, Sam Heughan. Someone had uploaded a clip of the show, gushing about how romantic and beautiful it was. I didn’t watch the scene myself, because I don’t follow that show. However, I did take note of Ex’s comment, which was this:

“To have hubby stroke my face and love me with his eyes just like that… would be a dream come true! I know he loves me… but this is just pure tenderness and genuine intimacy!!!”

Mmm’kay… Now, I don’t pretend to know how deep the love and commitment levels are between Ex and #3. I’ve heard stories, though… and I kinda doubt that what they have is a love match. Whatever. That’s between the two of them. What I do want to comment on, however, is Ex’s tweet about a clip from the show, Outlander, and her declaration that her real life husband loves her… but what she’s seeing on a television show is “genuine intimacy”. She declares that she wants what she sees on TV, claiming that’s “genuine intimacy”, but the man who has, in real life, spent 21 years with her, dealing with her many, many financial, emotional, and mental health issues, does not show her his love in the way she wishes he would.

An appropriate song by The Who… “It’s Not Enough”. Nothing will ever be enough for Ex.

The above comment Ex publicly made to the masses on Twitter– expressing starry eyed admiration and appreciation for an actor’s depiction of “genuine intimacy”– is very familiar to me. You see, I’m married to Ex’s second husband, and he’s told me many stories about how nothing he did for her was ever enough. She was never satisfied with his efforts to please her, and, in fact, her requirements for happiness would change on a daily basis.

I’ve mentioned before that when she was married to Bill, Ex used music, books, and movies to try to “train” him on how to behave in the approved way. She weaponized other people’s creative pursuits in an attempt to mold her spouse into her perfect partner. Because Bill is neither an actor, nor perfect, he inevitably failed. Add the pressure of performing to Ex’s standards to the stress of working, paying the bills, raising the kids, and just basically living life, and you have an untenable situation. I wasn’t there when this was going on, but I can imagine that it must have been very, very stressful and difficult.

Ex often pontificates about who she wants her perfect partner to be and how she wants him to behave. Based on what I’ve seen– her choices in movies, books, TV shows, and music– Ex wants a sensitive, romantic, kind, caring man toward her, who is also strong, sexy, edgy, handsome, hard working with a large paycheck, but having plenty of time to lavish attention on her… until she gets tired of his attention and wants to be left alone. Then, if he doesn’t immediately turn off and go away, he’s “abusive”.

She wants a man who will be tough and rugged, with an exciting edge in the bedroom expertly mixed with tenderness and sweetness. But he can never threaten her in ANY way. He can be strong and edgy, but only to the exact point at which she still feels comfortable and safe. Beyond that, he’s an “abusive bastard”, and she will find some way to punish him. And that point of when she feels safe enough, from what I’ve seen and heard, changes daily with Ex’s moods.

In order to be Ex’s perfect husband, her partner has to be a great performer in all ways… but especially in acting. He must be Oscar worthy… but he can’t have ever actually won an Oscar, or any other award, because that would threaten Ex. She doesn’t like it when people around her overachieve or otherwise show her up in some way. She wants the trophy husband, but he can’t have any trophies… and he can’t be disloyal in any way, although she will proudly try to show him off, even as she cuts him down on a daily basis.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Ex considers a scene on a fiction TV show to be an example of “genuine intimacy”. I don’t think she’s ever actually seen or experienced anything akin to genuine intimacy. She just knows what she’s seen depicted on the big screen. Bill told me that he often tried to behave in ways that he thought Ex would appreciate. Sometimes he would get it right and she’d praise him, even effusively so. More often than not, he would somehow fall short in some way, and she’d be disappointed and try to punish him. Or she’d get a hair up her ass and decide to offer him a “training session” on how he should behave, using a song like “Have You Really Loved a Woman” by Bryan Adams to make her point. UGH… I’m sure #3 has suffered similarly, only with scenes from Outlander as Ex’s muse.

Acting is basically the process of presenting a false image in a convincing way. Acting is the opposite of “genuine”. For something to be genuine, it has to be real. Great actors cause people to believe something is real when it’s not. So how can a televised love scene between two people on TV be called “genuine intimacy”? I doubt Ex has ever really stopped to consider this point. In fact, it seems to me that she’d like for real life to be like it is on TV or in the movies. And as I write that, I actually feel a little sad for her… because it means that off screen reality can never be enough for her. Since real life will never be enough for her, Ex can never be contented with what she still has.

Yesterday, younger daughter told us about her middle child’s reaction to the birthday gift we recently sent to her. A couple of months ago, we sent the kids little gifts we picked up when we visited Hohenzollern Castle near Stuttgart. While we were visiting the gift shop, I noticed a “princess dress”. It was purple and white and had a metal hoop in it that made the dress splay out voluminously. She loved the dress. So, although I kind of hesitate to push the “princess” persona on girls, I decided to send her a little purple tiara for her birthday, along with a new copy of a book I had loved when I was a kid (the main character was a princess who finds a unicorn who needs her help).

Younger daughter said that when her daughter received the present, a couple of days after her actual birthday, her face lit up with joy. She and her siblings, like Bill and I, had been suffering from a cold. But she overcame the heaviness of the cold and said, “For me?!” There was no video to prove it, but it sounds like she was truly grateful for what she had received. It was “enough”!

I’ve been with Bill for going on 21 years myself. I’ve seen him “love me with his eyes” plenty of times. The first time I really noticed it was when we got our wedding photos. The photographer, who was a little eccentric, had snapped a picture of Bill listening to me sing. It wasn’t even a particularly good performance, as my nervousness that day had cursed me with a cough and the constant need to clear my throat. Nevertheless, the photographer had captured the look of sincere love and appreciation in his eyes, along with my late Aunt Betty resting her head on Bill’s shoulder with her eyes closed. I’ve seen that look of genuine love from Bill many times over the years. All it takes to receive it is a dose of reciprocal love, regard, and appreciation from me.

Granted, our relationship is different than Ex’s was when she was married to Bill. Bill and I are simply a better match on all levels. The fact that I’m more compatible with Bill than she was isn’t Ex’s fault. But I know Bill, and I know she complained about him not giving her enough love and attention. I know she wasn’t satisfied with anything he tried to do to make her believe that he loved her and was committed to making her happy.

I don’t like #3 at all, but I have some compassion for his situation. It’s an impossible thing to try to do, appeasing Ex’s bottomless pit of need for unconditional positive love, regard, adoration, and what she thinks is “genuine intimacy”. To unlock that achievement is to do the impossible. She lacks the skill– the concept– of being contented and satisfied with what she has, and the efforts other people make to please her.

Maybe it’s time someone used music to “teach” Ex a thing or two…

Here are the lyrics to “It’s Not Enough” by The Who…

It’s not enough
Whatever you give

A little bit more
You always need
A little more man
A little more seed

It’s not enough
It’s not enough
Whatever I give
It’s never enough

I gave you cash
I gave you love
All that I heard
Was “It’s Not Enough”

I work so hard
It gets so tough
Whatever I give
Never feels like enough
It’s not enough
It’s not enough
Whatever I give
It’s never enough

When I’m on my knees
I keep taking your stuff
Make sure that you know
It’s never enough

You said you’d go as far
As to turn to my friend
Who once warned me of you
Said you’d hasten my end
Because I have lent
Every ounce of my juice
My essence is spent

You’ll always want
A little more pink
I’ll always need
A little more ink

It’s not enough
It’s not enough
Whatever I give
It’s never enough

However I praise
However I puff
Though you may smile
It won’t be enough

Right at the end
When I start to bluff
An’ the lift’s going down
An’ I start acting tough

It’s not enough
It’s not enough
Whatever I give
It’s never enough

I’ll find someone else
To finish filling me up
I’ll smile and admit
You were never quite enough

Like Brigitte Bardot
In Godard’s Les Mepris
I can’t love you enough
To make you complete
You appear in my dreams
With some new courtier
You need me there to see
What you need to convey

It’s not enough
It’s not enough
Whatever I give
It’ll never be enough

No hysterical scene
You will never play rough
I’m the one who will scream
But it won’t be enough

It’s never enough
It’s never enough

It’s not enough
It’s not enough
Whatever I give
It’ll never be enough

I’ll never hold you
How can I scold you?

It’s not enough
It’s not enough
Whatever I give
It’ll never be enough

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communication, domestic violence, relationships

Sometimes a person’s palms really can predict the future…

Ugh… Thursday again. Time to break out my riding vacuum cleaner. I’m kidding, of course. I don’t own a riding vacuum cleaner. I wish I did. Maybe I should buy a couple of robots to do the vacuuming, as that is one of my least favorite jobs, ever. I need a nice slim one, that can get under the bed!

Before I get to my most hated household chore, I want to write a blog post about a couple of relationship fails I’ve read about this week. I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but Am I The Asshole has become one of social media’s hottest trends. It seems like a lot of formerly awesome content providers, like God, have resorted to sharing AITA posts from Reddit. It’s pretty tiresome, although sometimes they do share some thought provoking doozies. That’s what I’m going to write about today, because I don’t feel like writing about politics or religion.

Both of the AITA posts I’m going to address have “hands” in common. Hands are a powerful means of action. They can be used for so many good and useful things, from doing work to communicating. They can even be read by palm readers, seeking to tell the future. But hands– particularly the palm part of them– can also be used as weapons, either through physical contact, or by spreading disease, as my discussion of these two posts will demonstrate.

Post number one…

There’s a lot wrong with this.

I’d like to know what redeeming qualities this guy has that his girlfriend hasn’t dumped him yet. Basic hygiene is something most of us learn at very early ages. It’s especially important nowadays, in the wake of the pandemic. And yet, here’s this apparently grown woman writing to Reddit about her boyfriend, who doesn’t bother to wash his hands after taking a dump. She thinks his refusal to wash his hands properly is why she keeps getting urinary tract infections.

Now… there is something to be said about washing too much. Some people really are germaphobes. Overuse of antibacterial soaps is also not good for a person’s health, since it can lead to antibiotic resistance. However– basic handwashing is essential for preventing the spread of disease. Moreover, it’s just super gross not to wash your hands after going to the bathroom. Even if you haven’t pooped, other people probably have, and their fecal residue is everywhere. When you flush the toilet, that shit literally flies everywhere. So yes, you need to wash your hands with soap. If you don’t do it for your own health, you should do it for the continued good health of the people you love.

Eeeew…

Secondly, it really says something when your partner says they will honor what the people on Reddit say, rather than what you, as their significant other, say. It sounds like this guy has no respect for his girlfriend on even the most basic level. He has no self-respect, either. I can only think of one reasonable explanation for his reluctance to wash his hands… and that is that maybe he subscribes to the George Carlin theory on hygiene.

But George, who is currently dead, did at least wash his hands when he shat on them.

If this guy actually was a George Carlin devotee, I would hope he’d have more self-regard than just doing whatever people on Reddit tell him to do. I like to think of most George Carlin fans as higher evolved beings. Anyway, this situation would be a hard pass for me. I’d be ditching this guy ASAP and finding someone a little less dangerous. Asking your partner to wash their hands, especially after shitting, is a small request that should be honored, for everyone’s health and well-being.

Post number two…

Uh… physical violence is definitely a dealbreaker (as are all other forms of abuse).

In this second post, we read about a man who managed to escape a physically abusive relationship with a woman and decided that he would never again tolerate being hit by a romantic partner. He was engaged to his girlfriend and they got into a fight. She slapped him hard across the face. They were both sober at the time, which doesn’t really matter. Drunk or sober, putting hands on someone else in violence is a no go.

The guy who wrote the above letter explains that after his girlfriend slapped him, he wisely decided to call off their wedding. He is obviously a considerate type, as he writes that he said he’d continue to pay his portion of the rent of their shared apartment until the lease ends. However, he doesn’t want to marry her anymore.

She’s claiming that he’s an asshole, because he’s getting so upset over “just a slap”. She says that he’s overreacting. Most telling is that when he told her she’d crossed a boundary, her response wasn’t contrition. Instead, she got very angry and berated him, then basically said he was being ridiculous for establishing a boundary. That’s a huge red flag. He’s right to be concerned about her instinct to strike out physically when there’s a disagreement. And her reaction isn’t to take his concerns seriously, apologize, and address them calmly. It’s to discount and gaslight him into accepting that behavior.

Those of you who have been reading my blog may know that my husband, Bill, endured years of abuse at the hands (and mind) of his ex wife. She gave off many warning signs before they married. In fact, the day of their wedding, they had a fight. However, because Bill didn’t want to make a fuss or disappoint anyone, he went through with the wedding… even though the warning bells were chiming loudly on their wedding day!

That was a huge mistake…

Almost ten years later, Bill emerged from that relationship in serious financial trouble, with literal physical scars, and figurative mental and emotional scars. He was estranged from both of his daughters for many years, and remains estranged from his older adult child. That relationship was terrible enough for him, but it also had ripple effects on many of his loved ones: his mom, his dad, his stepmother, his sister, his children, and me… as well as anyone who has had to listen to or read my rantings about his ex wife’s latest bullshit.

Divorce is messy and expensive, and it’s a sure bet that if this fellow marries his girlfriend, there WILL eventually be a divorce. The only way there wouldn’t be is if one of them died, or if they went through some very reformative relationship counseling. Moreover, if the guy did call the police after being physically abused– which he should be able to do without any fear— odds are, he would be the one in handcuffs.

I think the letter writer is smart to break up with his girlfriend over “just a slap”. Men absolutely can be abused by women. I’ve seen it up close and personal, and it’s not good. So no, he’s NOT the asshole for breaking up with that woman. Hopefully, she will get some therapy and deal with her issues before someone else marries her.

Bill and I are very fortunate. We get along extremely well and barely ever fight, let alone hit each other. There was only one time in over twenty years of marriage when I did put my hands on his neck, but it wasn’t meant to be an act of violence. It was not an angry action directed at him, and he wasn’t hurt in any way. He did automatically react to it, which immediately made me feel terrible. I even offered to sleep in the guest room, and he said it wasn’t necessary. I also apologized profusely, and it has never happened again. But even in that incident, I wasn’t fighting with him, nor was I even angry with him. I just reacted in the moment, not realizing that he would automatically be triggered in the way he was. The fact that he did react in that way is very telling.

Unfortunately, our culture promotes the idea that only women can be victims of abuse. Although most people are sensible enough to realize that anyone can be abused, some people– like Ex– take advantage of the idea that women are always the victims of domestic violence. When Bill and I were first married, he told me that he knew he could hurt his ex wife, yet he was telling me stories that were clearly indicative that he was a DV victim. When I gently pointed out to Bill that his ex wife was a domestic abuser, he was shocked and horrified. But then he agreed, had the roles been reversed, and Ex had been treated by Bill the way she’d treated him, he wouldn’t have questioned it. Even younger daughter knew Bill was abused by Ex; she probably saw #3 being abused, too. She went as far as sending him an article on male victims of domestic violence.

So no… the letter writer in the second post is NOT an asshole at all. He’s being smart. It’s better to be alone than have to live with someone like that and then get divorced. I endured physical abuse from my father, and it made me decide that anyone who hits me had better kill me. That doesn’t mean I would respond with violence; it simply means that they might really regret their actions afterwards. As I’ve mentioned before, I am NOT a people pleaser.

Anyway… there are more ways your palms can tell the future than just through a palm reading. If you’re with someone who refuses to wash their palms properly, especially after a bowel movement, you might want to move on. Likewise, if you’re with someone whose palm ever meets your face with force, it’s time to flush that turd of a relationship and find someone more respectful… and respectable.

So ends today’s post… Now, I’m off to tend to the chores of the day. It’s a holiday in Germany, so it’s probably going to be a boring afternoon.

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