communication, controversies, ethics, family, holidays, LDS, love, misunderstandings, narcissists

Once someone gives you a gift, it’s yours…

This week has flown by! I can’t believe it’s already Thursday. I’m sitting here thinking about how my husband will be on yet another business trip next week, while I sit here and plan our trip to see our dentist and later, the Czech Republic (aka Czechia). I look forward to the road trip to Czechia. It’s a beautiful country, with a lot to see, great beer, and excellent food. It’s also not a very expensive place to visit, at least compared to some other destinations. I was pretty shocked by how much Yerevan is going to cost! I think it’ll be worth it, though, because I haven’t seen Armenia since 1997, and it’s a special place to me.

Anyway, I’m sitting here this morning thinking about a column I just read in The New York Times. A woman wrote:

“My mom has wanted to buy me a luxury bag for a few years, but I have reservations about spending lots of money on things. Still, when she asked for my opinion about a bag for herself, I provided one — though I suspected it was really for me. I texted her that I appreciate everything she does, but I asked her not to buy me a bag. (Having expensive things makes me anxious.) She agreed, but then she sent me more pictures of status bags. I repeated my request. Then I spoke to my sibling, who convinced me that gifts are my mom’s way of expressing love, and that she can afford it. (She’s also having a hard time now caring for my grandfather.) So, I prepared myself to receive a $2,000 bag. But the one that arrived cost $7,000 — which stresses me out! I love my mom, but she didn’t respect my feelings. How can I handle this nicely?”

The columnist, Philip Galanes, gave what I think is good advice. He advised explaining to the mom, once again, that receiving such expensive gifts provokes anxiety. He suggests giving her ideas for more appropriate gifts. Galanes recognizes that the situation is kind of tricky, since our social mores frown on telling people what they should or should not give as gifts to someone. An etiquette expert would likely say that it’s better to receive all gifts with a grateful heart. Galanes says this, which I think is pretty astute:

Your question isn’t really about gifts; it’s about getting through to your mother, kindly. You shouldn’t have to choke down anxiety to make her feel good.

I checked out the Facebook comments on this post, just because I was curious. I wasn’t surprised to find that a lot of people found this dilemma ridiculous. Here’s a woman with a mom who can afford to give her daughter $7000 handbags. Many people love expensive handbags, and would be very excited to get one as a gift. Moreover, some readers were focused on the mom’s feelings, pointing out that the mom might be hoping to see her daughter enjoying her gift. They didn’t seem to realize that even a $7000 handbag isn’t much of a gift if it makes the recipient feel uncomfortable. Part of gift giving involves being thoughtful, and giving something that the recipient can use and/or appreciate.

I liked this woman’s suggestion:

If it’s the bag I’m thinking, resale value is good. Get a bag you feel more comfortable owning and invest, save or donate the rest.

A few people agreed with her. But then she got this response, which prompted me to write today’s blog post.

“…it was a gift from her mother. I would be hurt if my daughter sold this gift.

I didn’t tag the woman who wrote this response, because I’m not looking for an argument with a stranger today. But I did feel compelled to leave my opinion, which is this:

I would be hurt if I repeatedly made my wishes known to my mom and she ignored them. Besides, once someone gives you a gift, it’s yours. I think exchanging the bag for a less expensive one and saving, investing, or donating the money is a great idea.

So far, several people seem to agree with me. Yes, there’s etiquette involved with receiving gifts, but there’s also etiquette involved with giving them. Gifts should be given with thought and care. I will admit, when I was younger, I didn’t always understand the pleasure of giving or receiving thoughtful gifts. I used to see Christmas and birthdays as burdens, as I was expected to buy presents for everyone in my immediate family. I didn’t have any money, nor was I close enough to most of them to know what they liked, wanted, or needed. Now that my Christmases mainly involve Bill and me, it’s a lot easier. I know what he likes. I buy most of his clothes for him as a matter of course. 😉 He tells me I’m good at the job. I also seek honest feedback from him, so I don’t end up spending money on things he doesn’t like or want.

One thing I’ve learned after being married to Bill is that sometimes giving and receiving gifts can be problematic in relationships. Most of us are taught from childhood that we should always be grateful to receive gifts, even if they’re inappropriate, not our taste, or leave a rude impression. We are trained to always assume that gifts are always given with the spirit of generosity. But I have learned that sometimes gifts can have weird messages attached to them that leave the recipient with negative feelings.

Ex was/is the queen of giving inappropriate gifts, which I think is actually a pretty prominent trait in people who are narcissistic. They tend to give gifts based on their own preferences, because they generally only think of themselves. If they do manage to give someone something they actually want, it’s because they have an angle, and will use the gift as a means of control and obligation. Bill told me that when he was married to Ex, she’d buy him things that were impractical, yet expensive. Like, for instance, she once gave him a bust of a Star Wars character. It’s true that Bill likes Star Wars, and the bust was kind of cool. But it cost $300 that they needed for buying food. He ended up insisting that she return it, which she did without too much protest.

Younger daughter has said that her mother will send gifts to her that have some kind of sentimental message or hidden meaning. Sometimes, she sends things that are just plain odd– like Christmas jammies for the whole family that are all in the wrong sizes. Or, she’ll send things that are kind of thoughtless. More than once, she’s sent tea sets to her grandchildren, who are being raised in the LDS faith, where most tea drinking is forbidden (although they can drink herbal teas). The funny thing is, Ex is the one who got younger daughter into the LDS religion. You’d think she’d remember the Word of Wisdom. But no… she has evidently forgotten that Mormons don’t typically drink coffee, tea, or alcohol. Or she doesn’t care. Or… she’s sending some kind of hidden message that younger daughter should quit the church.

A few years ago, Bill was shopping for a gift for his granddaughter. He saw a cool looking tea set and was about to buy it, when something dawned on me. I said “Wait a minute! Are you sure you should be sending a tea party set to a child who is being raised LDS?”

Bill laughed and said, “Oh my God, you’re right! I totally forgot!” Then he found a really cool looking ice cream cart toy and sent that instead. Younger daughter said granddaughter was delighted with the toy and it was a huge hit with the other kids in their neighborhood, too. Bill wasn’t offended when I pointed out that he might want to take an extra minute to consider the appropriateness of his gift. His ex wife probably would have, but that’s most likely because she gives gifts with herself in mind, rather than the person receiving the gift.

Later, Bill told his daughter about the faux pas he almost committed. She smiled and said it would have been okay, since her mom had sent them a bunch of tea party sets, too. In my mind, that’s another reason to have sent something else. They already have a bunch of tea sets!

I enjoy sending gifts to Bill’s grandchildren. As I’ve been doing so, I try to consider whether or not the gifts are appropriate or will be received well. I’m sure I miss sometimes. A couple of days ago, I posted a picture of Bill wrapping a care package we made for his daughter, who is currently expecting her fourth baby. I usually send stuff for the kids, but this time, I wanted to send something more for their mother.

Bill and I like Molton Brown toiletries from England. They aren’t cheap, but they smell wonderful, are high quality, colorful, and just nice. I thought about younger daughter taking care of her kids and wondered if maybe she’d like them, too. So I asked her. I said I wanted to send her something nice for the few minutes alone she gets in the shower. I said I didn’t want to send her anything that would be offensive or make her feel sick to her stomach. She gave me some ideas of scents she likes. I ended up sending her a couple of assortment sets that have different samples of the scents Molton Brown sells. That way, if she finds one she really likes, she can tell me. If there’s one that offends, she can tell me. I didn’t make a big investment in a particular scent in the gift, so it’s no big deal if she doesn’t like certain ones. I hope she’ll let me know if there are any she doesn’t like… or even if she doesn’t like Molton Brown at all.

I included a pair of Irish wool socks, since she lives in Utah and winter is coming, ginger lemon bon bons for nausea, skin cream for the stretching, and a couple of bracelets that were made by a local artisan. We filled the remaining space with German and Dutch candy and stroopwafels. We know she likes those, and can’t easily get them locally.

One of my friends took me to task for sending sweets to a pregnant lady. She said that stuff isn’t “good” for her, and will only tempt her. I was a bit taken aback by that comment. First off, for years, Bill wasn’t allowed any contact with his daughter. So he’s making up for lost time now. We know she appreciates the goodies, and she will share them responsibly with her family.

And secondly, the last thing I would ever want to do is presume to tell younger daughter what she should or shouldn’t do– particularly when it comes to eating. I understand the point about not encouraging unhealthy eating habits, but food is something younger daughter enjoys. She’s a very busy mom, but she loves to try new things and test recipes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries the stroopwafels and learns to make them herself. She’s never been to Europe, either, so this is one way to introduce it to her.

I’ve had to listen to a lot of unwelcome criticism and commentary about my body from so-called loved ones. It never seemed loving to me when my mom would look at me with annoyance or outright disgust and said things like, “I wish you’d lose some weight!” And then she’d offer to buy me a new wardrobe if I lost twenty pounds. I’m sure those comments came more from her desire to impress other people than any concern for my health or well being. But it was even worse when my dad would make comments to me, even when I was a normal sized teen. That shit led to years of body image issues and disordered eating. Now, I’d happily tell them both to fuck off… perhaps using more polite terms, but yeah– if I was angry enough, I probably would use the “f” bomb. I inherited the “gift” of their tempers, along with their gifts for music. 😉

And that brings me to my next point. Sometimes gifts come in intangible ways. Sometimes people pay compliments that turn out to be gifts. Or they offer constructive criticism that turns out to be truly helpful and constructive. Or they divorce their husbands so their husbands can marry someone who is more compatible. I consider the fact that Ex divorced Bill a tremendous gift to me. Sure, it was not meant to be a gift, but it turned out to be one, just the same. Ditto to the voice teacher I had in 1990, back when I was a freshman at Longwood, who suggested to me that I should study voice privately with her. That adjunct professor literally changed my life for the better by doing that. Yes, that was also a tremendous gift! It’s continued to give for 33 years and counting, even if only to me, and those who like what I do.

On the other hand, intangible gifts can also turn out to be duds. Take, for instance, the “compliment” someone tried to pay me a few months ago. I shared a meme on my Facebook page that featured an overweight woman in a bikini and the suggestion that people should mind their own business when they see someone on the beach in a bikini– even if they think the person shouldn’t be wearing one. The person who “complimented” me said I looked “great”. But that wasn’t me in the picture, so the compliment ended up being very offensive. When I pointed out that the woman in the photo wasn’t me, my former friend continued to try to compliment me on my looks. It made things much worse. Then I vented about it in my blog; she read it; and now we’re not “friends” anymore. :/ Her “gift” turned me into the asshole… although actually, maybe there was a gift in what happened. I got to see her for the person she really is. Now, I don’t waste time trying to be friends with her.

Then there are the “gifts” that come with many strings attached. I don’t want to get into that too heavily in this post, since I just wrote about how Jim Bob Duggar gives gifts with many strings attached. You can read my recent posts about the “gifts” he gave to his daughter, Jill, and his other children to get an idea of that concept. But I do want to point out that Jim Bob seems to have missed the point of giving gifts… which is to give someone something that will be a blessing or kindness to them as an expression of love or friendship– not as a source of control or “ego boo”.

Bottom line– whenever possible, gifts should be given with thought and good will toward the recipient. So, mom, if your daughter very clearly tells you what she does not want as a gift, you should respect that, and try to give her something more appropriate. And if you insist on giving her a $7000 gift that makes her feel uncomfortable and anxious, you should not be offended if she decides to do something else with the gift. Once you give a gift to someone, it no longer belongs to you. So, if she sells or returns the handbag and gets something she’d rather have, take that as a lesson. Giving and receiving gifts isn’t just about one person making a transaction. It’s something that should be done with a true spirit of generosity.

Personally, I love the idea of reselling the expensive handbag and either investing or donating the money. That’s a great way to turn this awkward situation into a winning solution that will pay dividends in the long run– either for the original recipient, or to less fortunate people who might benefit from donated funds generated by the sale of the unwanted bag.

Well, that about does it for today’s sermon. It’s Thursday, so that means I have to break out the riding vacuum cleaner. 😉 So I think I’ll get on with that, and check in tomorrow with something new. Ciao!

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communication, family, lessons learned, narcissists, psychology

My mom confirms something important to me…

The featured photo is a picture of Mom and me in Sousse, Tunisia, over the New Year’s holiday in 1978. I was five years old. We lived in England at the time, so it wasn’t a super long journey.

Last week, I tried to call my mom a couple of times. I had forgotten that she was going to be having knee surgery. She had told me about it in March, I think, and it slipped my mind. My mom lives alone in a senior apartment community in Hampton, Virginia. The community was formed out of what was once a grand hotel. It overlooks the Chesapeake Bay. She has a wonderful view from her two bedroom apartment, where she’s lived since 2009. My dad shared the apartment with her, until he died on July 9, 2014.

My mom is going to be 85 years old this year. She’s still quite independent. Her mind is sharp. She still drives, though not as far as she used to. She doesn’t go out much, though, so I was a little worried when I called her three times and didn’t get an answer. Our neighbor’s mom is my mom’s age, and she’s been having some problems lately. She broke her leg, and a few weeks ago, she picked up the wrong keys to her house and got confused. Not being able to reach my mom caused me to to worry a little. I hoped she wasn’t suffering with the same things our neighbor’s mom (who is also a neighbor) does.

I sent one of my three sisters a private message on Facebook, asking her if she knew if Mom was okay. She reminded me about the surgery, but then contacted another sister– the eldest of the four of us– to confirm. Oldest sister said Mom was doing fine. The sister I contacted also called Mom’s apartment community to check on her, and they confirmed that Mom was okay. So that was that.

This sister and my mom have always had a lot of interpersonal issues. I don’t know what they stem from, but they’ve had difficulties for as long as I can remember. It’s too bad, too, because both my mom and my sister have things in common. They are both extraordinarily artistic. My mom can do almost anything with needles and thread. For years, she owned her own business, in which she sold cross-stitch, knitting, needlepoint, and other supplies. She taught many people how to do these needlecrafts (although I’m not among them). My mom, even in her 80s, has made some extremely beautiful things by her own hand. When I was little, she used to make clothes for me. She also knitted sweaters, hats, socks, and scarves.

My mom and one of her many incredible creations… She is a very gifted artist.

My sister, likewise, is very talented with needles and threads. She sews and does needle crafts, like our mom does. She’s also a legitimately gifted artist in the way most people think of artists. She paints, draws, and creates true works of art through many different mediums. In addition, she’s a skilled writer, having earned a master’s degree in journalism, and she has excellent taste in music. My sister introduced me to some of my favorite artists, including Kate Bush.

Really, though, my sister is probably best known as an artist. I’ve been to a lot of art museums, and I can tell you that I would expect to see something my sister did hanging in an art museum. Below are a few examples of her work:

You’d think my mom and my sister would get along famously. They have some things in common. But they don’t really get along. My sister seemed to mesh better with our dad (most of the time). I, on the other hand, have always gotten along with our mom. My dad and I fought a lot.

Back in July 2007, while Bill was in Iraq doing his “patriotic chore”, I attended my paternal grandmother’s funeral. Granny was almost 101 years old when she passed. She was much beloved by everyone in her community. I had to bring my dogs with me, because it wasn’t possible to board them. Consequently, when I stayed at the Natural Bridge Hotel (for the last time, it turned out), I got a room in the “cabins”, which were motel rooms on a hillside. My uncle ran the Natural Bridge Hotel for years, and I’ve stayed there many times. The last time I stayed, it was pretty uncomfortable. I think they’ve renovated since 2007, but I haven’t been back… in part, because it was uncomfortable, and in part, because of something my sister said to me that brings back traumatic memories.

After Granny’s funeral, my sister and I were talking. She was also staying in a “cabin”. For some reason, she chose that time to tell me that she’d always believed I wasn’t my dad’s daughter.

Keep in mind, we had just buried our grandmother, who was my father’s mother. If I wasn’t his daughter, that would have meant that Granny wasn’t my actual grandmother. She was pretty much the only grandparent I’d ever known, since my other grandparents died when I was very young. I do remember my mom’s father, but he had severe dementia when I was conscious of meeting him, and he didn’t really know who any of us were. I also met my paternal grandfather’s mother– my great grandma– but she was also very elderly and died when I was about nine years old. I didn’t have much of a relationship with her. So, as you might realize, Granny was very important to me– more so than she would have been in any case.

When my sister made that declaration to me, I will admit there was a part of me that wondered if what she was saying could have been true. My dad and I fought a lot. I don’t look much like him. Instead, I really favor my mom’s side of the family. But I only wondered about it for a moment…

My sister was telling me about how she formed this idea that maybe I was a “bastard” child. She said our mom was friendly with a neighbor in Hampton, Virginia, where I was born. She said he had blond hair and blue eyes, like mine. My dad had black hair and brown eyes.

I decided to gently challenge my sister. I say “gently”, because I didn’t want to fight with her, especially at Granny’s funeral. I asked her how it was possible that our mom could have had an affair. At the time, our dad was away on Air Force missions a lot. They had three children– my sisters are 13, 11, and 8 years older than I am. How would our mom have the time for adultery?

Also, our mom is painfully honest. I mean, she’s honest to a fault. I just couldn’t see her cheating on our dad. She isn’t the most demonstrative person, although she’s definitely friendlier and more demonstrative now, than she was when our dad was alive. There are a lot of things a person might say about my mom’s rather laid back mothering skills. The truth is, she was kind of neglectful to me– and she’d probably be among the first to admit it. I think she would have been better at mothering had she not been married to an alcoholic during the Vietnam War era, and had she not had four kids. But she has a strong moral compass and a very deep sense of loyalty and duty. She took excellent care of my dad until the bitter end of his life. I know she truly loved him, too, even when he wasn’t very lovable.

Finally, I suggested asking our mom point blank about it. My sister very quickly backpedaled, and said she had a wild imagination. It was clear she didn’t like that idea. Uh huh…

Still, for a long time, I wondered if there was any truth to my sister’s theory, because it was true that my dad and I had a rather contentious relationship. I didn’t know the people who were our neighbors in Hampton. I was a baby, and we left Hampton when I was about six months old, and moved to Dayton, Ohio, where my dad took a job at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. I only have the barest memories of Ohio. It’s probably a blessing. 😉 Dad and I didn’t share very much in terms of physical similarities. Now that I’m older, I think bone structure in my face looks like his, somewhat. Actually, I think I look a little like this particular sister, in terms of facial bone structure. She looks more like our dad, though, while I am very obviously my mom’s daughter.

Years later, I submitted my DNA to both 23&Me and Ancestry.com. I saw that a number of my DNA matches came from my dad’s side of the family. Obviously, I am his daughter.

Which brings me to last night’s chat with my mother. We’d been talking for about an hour and were about to ring off. Mom said the surgery and the drugs she was taking were causing her to need the toilet more frequently than usual. Before we finished our conversation, I asked her if she’d watched the coronation of King Charles III. Mom loves watching British ceremonies. She said she had, and that led to another rabbit hole of discussion.

The topic turned to Prince Harry and Meghan, and she brought up their children, Archie and Lilibet. I said that some people were speculating that perhaps the kids weren’t actually conceived between them (not that I believe that myself– it’s not really my business). I added that since everybody is getting their DNA tested these days, it would be hard to lie about something like that.

My mom said, “Well I want you to know that your dad and I are your parents.”

I thought that was kind of a weird thing to say, and before I knew it, I said “Well, thank you for that. There was some doubt at one point. But then I got my DNA tested.”

Naturally, Mom wanted to know what I meant. So I told her about that toxic conversation I’d had with my sister back in 2007… right after Granny’s funeral. I didn’t mention her name… but Mom quickly guessed who had said that to me. It turns out my sister had directly accused our mom of having had an affair. Mom thought maybe she was talking about the young Black male nurse who had been helping to take care of Dad in his last years. At the time, the nurse was an 18 year old nurse’s aid, and our mom was in her 70s. Dad had accused them of having an affair; he had severe dementia at the time. The idea of Mom having an affair with a teenager was ridiculous and laughable, and she did laugh about it. But no… my sister said Mom would have had an affair with a white person.

For sixteen years, I never mentioned to my mom that conversation my sister and I had. I hadn’t meant to mention it last night. To my mom’s credit, she was pretty cool about it and even apologized to me that my sister had said that. It was pretty hurtful.

And maybe I shouldn’t write about this here… Some people would find it inappropriate and too personal. On the other hand, abusers thrive on secrecy. They say and do mean things, counting on their victims remaining silent. In spite of what some people might think, I’ve been silent about a lot of things. It’s not really my nature to be silent, either. One of the gifts I inherited from my mom were, after all, the gifts of music and communication. Actually, I inherited both of those from my dad, too… Music and writing are a couple of a few things I got from him, even if I don’t resemble him physically.

I’m not angry with my sister. I don’t know why she has these issues with our mother. Some of the things she says seem rather fictitious to me… and in fact, she often reminds me of other people in my life with whom I’ve had to do battle. Perhaps dealing with her is one reason why I am so “saturated” when it comes to narcissistic types, like former landlady and Ex. My sister, by the way, thinks she’s an empath. Personally, I don’t really see it. Bill is an empath. I am not, and neither are any of my sisters.

I’m not sorry Mom and I had that talk. Thanks to DNA tests, I already knew that my sister’s conspiracy theory was utter bullshit. I never really believed her theory, even before I had my DNA tested. However, it was good to hear it from my mom, who even told me about the time I was conceived. Apparently, it happened after my dad had taken a “round the world” trip in the fall of 1971, escorting generals to different embassies. Mom said they used to joke that they were going to name me “Ethiopia”. She said she’d told me about that once, and I thought it was “terrible”. I swear, though, I don’t remember the story. She also said the person my sister thought she’d been messing around with was just a neighbor who, along with his wife, had kids the same age. They were just neighborhood friends. In fact, the wife of the couple recently sent Mom a letter. She’d tracked her down in Hampton.

We ended our conversation on a really lovely note. Mom said she loved me, and reminded me that I’d been a good kid who never got into trouble. I guess buying me a horse worked… (and my sister tried to take credit for that decision, too). I wished Mom a happy Mother’s Day, and said I’d call her before we go on vacation next month. It’s a gift to me that she and I can be friends now. She might be one of the few people in my family with whom I would probably choose to be friends, even if we weren’t related.

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Biden, politics, social media, true crime

Step into my Parler…

I have not given in to the temptation to check out Parler or any of the other “alternative” social media platforms. I have many reasons for not taking the plunge. The main one is that I have absolutely zero desire to add more social media to my life. Facebook already annoys the fuck out of me, even though I am hopelessly entrenched. But there are other reasons…

First of all, I’ve noticed people cabling posts from Parler and, quite frankly, a lot of what I’ve seen is very negative. There’s a lot of scary right wing shit on there, posted by nutjobs who still think Trump won the election and was unfairly ousted from Washington. Naturally, if you have followed this blog for more than a few minutes, you know that I am DELIGHTED that Trump lost the election. I believe the election was fair and free, and Trump is by far the worst president in the history of the United States. Not only did he suck donkey balls as a leader, but he also inspired people to be violent and stupid.

Secondly, I’ve noticed that a number of my relatives have apparently abandoned Facebook. While I think a couple of relatives blocked me, I also think most have simply moved over to Parler, where they can spew their nauseating Trump worshiping crap in relative peace. I would not want to be on Parler to see what my relatives are posting. Some of them have legitimately scared me over the past few years… and some have just made me sad. I feel like I’ve lost a bunch of loved ones, thanks to Donald Trump. I’m not sure the rift will ever be healed.

And thirdly, I am really tired of writing about politics. I’d like to move away from that subject. I probably will, if Biden succeeds in making the country less crazy. But if I hang out on Parler, I know I will fall down several rabbit holes and feel compelled to keep writing about things I read over there. Facebook provides way more than my recommended daily allowance of political craziness.

Speaking of families being divided by politics… I recently read two different stories about parents and children going through significant strife thanks to Trump. The first one involves Claudia Conway, whose mother is Kellyanne Conway. I wrote about her a few months ago, when she was in the news for going off the rails a bit online. Claudia’s rants against Trump and videoed meltdowns were the reasons cited for Kellyanne’s exit from the Trump administration. Kellyanne had famously remarked that her family needed “less drama and more mama”.

A report from October 2020. Claudia was 15 at the time. Now she’s 16.

Well… according to recent news reports about the Conway family, things haven’t improved so much since Kellyanne came back to the nest. Claudia recent shared videos of her mother screaming profanities at her. A police officer came over to do a wellness check and told Kellyanne that she should take away her daughter’s access to the Internet. Claudia then said that she pays for her phone and her computer belongs to her school. Claudia’s dad is George Conway, who has publicly trolled his wife. George Conway is not a Trump fan at all. So I’m sure there’s a lot of stress in that household. There would be anyway, since Claudia is going through major growing pains at her age. But add in the rest of the shit– politics and a mother who apparently has quite a temper to match her public persona– and it can’t be easy for any of them.

I don’t envy Claudia OR her mother. Claudia is not at an easy age… And although I don’t like Kellyanne Conway, it can’t be easy to have children who air dirty laundry the way Claudia is. I think it will be a long two years before Claudia is a legal adult.

The second story involves a much less famous family in Wylie, Texas. 18 year old Jackson Reffitt, is the son of Guy Reffitt, a man who toted at least one firearm to the Capitol on January 6th and allegedly told his son, Jackson, if he told the authorities, he would be a traitor. And then, Guy allegedly told his son that traitors “get shot”. Wow…

If this story is 100 percent true as reported by Jackson, I think he’s a hero.

Jackson told the FBI anyway, and Guy Reffitt was arrested. Jackson says he did it because he felt it was his duty to his country. He also says he “knows” he and his dad will make up at some point. I truly hope that will happen for him, although Jackson’s sisters have said Jackson took their father’s comments “out of context”. Frankly, I have a hard time imagining how someone can take those words “out of context”, particularly when they are said by a father to his son.

Jackson is also at a tough age. It’s not easy being 18. His dad is my age, which makes me feel old. Anyway, Jackson has a GoFundMe going, because it appears that he’s no longer welcome in his father’s home. At this writing, he’s gotten more than $129,000 in donations. Apparently, he’d only hoped to raise a few thousand dollars. Personally, I think he should probably stop collecting money, lest people turn on him. Everybody loves a feel good story, but when GoFundMe fundraisers go crazy, sometimes people have a tendency to get skeptical. Besides, that amount of money is enough to get him through college and help him with his expenses as a young man. It’s crazy that we feel like we have to reward people for simply doing the right thing. But I know it was hard for Jackson to turn in his father. He will probably pay a heavy cost for that.

Anyway… it wouldn’t surprise me if Guy Reffitt is on Parler, too. I don’t want to be rubbing virtual elbows with people like him, even if some of my relatives are probably also there, commiserating about how we’re all “doomed” because a sane, rational, decent man is now the president. Yes, Joe Biden is 78 years old, but he looks pretty vibrant to me, and he is definitely a better role model and a better person than Trump will EVER be.

I hope to God that we all learn from history– look at the rise of Hitler, for instance— and stop Trump from doing any more damage. I am fucking serious. Be a conservative if you must, but keep it sane. And I think insanity abounds on Parler, so I won’t be stepping in over there, no matter how curious I get.

In other news… Arran had his surgery yesterday, later in the day than was planned. He has a cone of shame on his head and an incision in his left thigh, where the mast cell tumor was removed. He seems to be feeling better today than he did last night, poor guy. He woke us up at 3:00am because he was ravenous.

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