Weight issues. Mood issues. Mothering issues.
I know. I have a 12 year old. She is really a smart and thoughtful kid. She is an expert on politics and is fascinated by religion, the food industry, Pokemon, Minecraft and many video games, as long as there's no violence (unless it's cartoony enough to be so unrealistic that it wouldn't spawn any serial killer tendencies). Yeah, ok. She's 12.
We had a snow day today. YAY! We've been trying (half-heartedly) to jail brake my old iPhone which works perfectly well, but is in the Verizon network, and now we're all in the T-mobile world. I got a new phone, and hers sucks, so we thought we could try and flip this thing. She read instructions, I did what she told me, but it was basically updating and backing up. Whether or not she read it properly, or interpreted it properly, that's all we did. She gets angry - and so do I… but I wasn't. I simply told her what we had done, and that there must be more. It turned into a fierce battle. I'm trying to explain to her how folks help and expect kindness in return. In all aspects of life. Hubs and I cook and clean and do laundry (ok, truth? He does laundry, but it all works out and I'm forever grateful!) GRATEFUL. Yes, key word. She acts like it's the worst thing in the world to take out the garbage, supposedly one of her meager chores, that we have to scream about to get her to do it. I dropped some stuff in the kitchen during this talk (because, of course I was doing work to help the family) and she started to help and threw it all on the floor, because I didn't say anything as of that moment that she had started to help for a half second.
I had to do pretty much everything in my house from the time my mom got sick with the stupid cancer. I cooked and cleaned and did laundry. I even did yard work with a broken foot, because the "men" in my family were so f'ing lazy and apathetic. I was embarrassed about our filthy home and dirt poor life and tried to make it a little better. Now? We're not rich - barely middle class, if at all… but I find ways of keeping a nice home and always having quality food for dinner, good clothing, and just a nice home all around.
I want her to desire more from her life. It took me a long time to get there - and by the time I really got it, I was diagnosed with cancer! WHAT THE FUCK? It's like some cruel joke, but here I am.
She now owes me a 5 page handwritten essay on what it is to be a family. So far, she has slammed the door, thrown things, and is now in bed under her covers. It started out as 2. I'm trying like hell to not go in there and make it 6.
I think it's time for a glass of wine. 4:20pm. Good enough. At least I'm down a couple of lbs, though that could all change. Emotional eater + Tamoxifen + 12 year old daughter = STRETCH PANTS BUSTING AT THE SEAMS.
I need a massage. I will now let a glass of wine massage my brain a bit. I wish I could kill my cancer with a second glass of wine. Perhaps I will try anyway. I think I'll do my nails too - thank goodness for natural nail polish in freaky colors. Sometimes the little things make us smile. I need one. Bad.
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