Drama, Drama, Drama

The thing about my family is that there is ALWAYS drama. I swear things finally start getting to a calm place and everyone is getting along and then, WHAM, something happens and someone is moving out, or having her car threatened to be taken away, or getting shoved into a wall. And after all these years, there has been one common factor.

My mom.

Every damn time something goes down, my mom takes it upon herself to think that she is in the right and she must correct her children. All in all, that is her job. And it was all fine and dandy when we were 10. The whole controlling manner in which she insists on "fixing" things doesn't work now. You have to handle things like a grown up. And grown ups don't shout and scream and throw each other against walls. They sit down and discuss the problem. They don't act like babies throwing a fit until they get their way. Because that just makes both people angry and feelings get hurt. "I'm sorry" goes a long way. By getting mad and screaming, you are only teaching your children that that's an acceptable reaction to their unacceptable behavior. So what do they do in response? They scream and yell and call you a "bitch" and don't face the problem. They run away because it's easier to be angry and to hate you than to confront your unwavering opinions and attitude, especially when you will not listen. 

If you want to teach your children to be respectable, you have to be respectable towards them.

And you know, you're not teaching your youngest daughters any great skills by letting them see you fight with all your older children. Those girls are learning how to treat their mom and how she'll treat them.  

I learned a long time ago to stay the hell out of it and not meddle, but I sure still have an opinion on everything that happens. But Lord forbid I try to express my opinion. After all I am just a twenty something kid who knows nothing about raising teenagers. Sometimes I'm amazed that someone can be so stubborn and ignorant. You'd think after 45 years of life, she'd learn to be a little more humble and patient. 

Now I do not deny that my sister is a little brat. I mean she is a HUGE snob and she thinks she is entitled to a lot. She rants about my mom not paying for her glasses and a tooth that needs to be fixed, but last I checked, she does have her own job. And last I checked, she has about a zillion clothes that probably could have paid for a pair of glasses or part of that tooth. Yes I understand that it sucks having to use your own money to pay for that stuff, but welcome to being an adult. And seeing as you are so keen to make adult decisions, you should be willing to pay for your own stuff. I don't blame my mom for being frustrated with her. But when she told me she was going to "clean" her room, I knew some serious shit was about to go down. My youngest sister is not the type to calmly take things in stride and deal with it. They are both just alike and that's the worst part. 

My sister said that my mom slammed her head into the wall...it could be an exaggeration, but sadly it very well and probably is true. I get wanting to beat the crap out of her, but actually doing it obviously won't get you anywhere. My sister is the type of person you have to sit down with and make her listen in a calm and insistent manner. You will get a lot further with her by making her feel bad about something by being disappointed in her than by screaming at her. 

And the thing is, this is so not the first time something like this has happened. My other sister and I were a breeze to raise compared to my youngest sister and my brother. We learned that it was easier to shut our mouths and mind our own business while under her roof, because it didn't matter whether we were remotely right or not. My brother and youngest sister never wanted to accept that, and they suffered (and are suffering) for it. The part that frustrates me about this whole thing is that my mother just cannot see reason ever. She is constantly insisting that she is the one in the right. She never accepts the fact that things may be different than what she perceives. 

When things like this happen, I often remember everything that happened between my mom and dad. All the screaming fights they had in front of us. I place a lot of the blame on my dad for those things happening, but I know my mom had a big part in it all as well. It always started with something petty that they were arguing about and it just escalated beyond control. I often wonder what would have happened had my mom just walked away instead of goading him on. There were so many times that she said something that set him off and she'd just keep at it. I wonder if us kids would be different if we hadn't seen so many of the drag out brawls they had between each other. Would my brother and sister have better tempers? Would we have all learned patience better? I don't blame my mom for wanting to get the hell away from my dad. He's got a lot of issues and some serious mental problems, but I wish she would have handled it differently. I wish I could erase the image of him hitting her from our minds and then her asking for more and daring him to keep doing it. 

Now that I'm an adult and don't rely on my mom during my day to day activities, I can see things from a different perspective. I realize that my mom is not a perfect person by any means and she honestly doesn't have it figured out and she's not always right. Seeing the way she interacts with other people really frustrates me because she doesn't see reason with them either. She just gets into this state where she will not give in and agree to disagree. 

I can't wait for the day the Miranda graduates high school and moves out for good. I can't wait for her to start living on her own and be independent. I hope that that will be the end of these stupid fights and dramatic incidents. I am so tired of my mom being able to control my siblings in such a way that they don't feel like they have any choices or options. I pray that it doesn't happen again with my two baby sisters. I hope that my mom and step-dad will do better with them and things will be more peaceful during their last child rearing years. 

I consider myself somewhat stubborn. I know that there are times that I believe something pretty wholeheartedly and have difficulty looking at it from another perspective. But I like to think that if I am presented with a problem that I disagree with someone on, I won't scream at them to see reason. I hope that I never turn into my mother in such a way that my children call me a bitch or that they move out before they've finished high school. I hope that I recognize that yelling at them will only make them angrier. I pray that I will know when to keep my mouth shut and listen and not be so quick to anger. I hope that I will be the bigger person when I'm raising my children. 

Kicking

This weekend was pretty eventful for our baby milestones. Friday night I could feel the baby moving around quite a bit and when I put my hand on my stomach, I could feel just a little nudge on my hand. Now that was cool! I haven't really doubted that he's been moving around, but it's just reassuring to feel him kicking on the outside and know that he's in there alive and well. The rest of the night, I kept trying to feel it, but had no more luck. But then early Saturday morning, I woke up from a super scary dream (I was being hunted by a serial killer and was hiding in my house) and was trying to get my bearings to be able to go back to sleep. I don't know if it was because my heart rate was a lot higher, but when I went to feel my tummy, he was moving up a storm. There were just all these consistent little nudges on my hand. I was so excited about it that I could not go back to sleep until he stopped moving around. And I didn't want to move at all in case it made him shift and he stopped kicking. So I laid there for about 45 minutes and felt him kicking. Needless to say, I completely forgot about how scared I was.

The next day I kept doing everything I could to get him to move again, but the lazy kid wouldn't move for anything. Every once in a while I would feel him, but by the time I got Chris to try and feel him, he would stop moving.

Finally on Sunday afternoon, we timed it just right and Chris was able to feel a tiny little nudge. After dinner though, he was moving a ton and Chris was able to feel several little kicks. It was so much fun! His face was priceless when he first felt him. Total shock! It's definitely addicting though. Half the time I just want to lay down and feel him kick. There's just nothing else like it.

Before you get pregnant, nine months seems like a pretty decent amount of time to prepare for a baby. After all, it is almost a year. But once it happens and you start counting week by week and each milestone, it starts to really go fast. We only have a month until the third trimester! By the time we go to Jamaica in a month, we will have less than 100 days until the baby's due date. We're almost to the point of if he were to be born he would at least have a chance at surviving (Not that I want that at all. He needs to stay in until he's good and cooked!). I really do think I will go late (At least I'm trying to convince myself of that so that if I do go over, I'm not too disappointed, despite my secret hope that I will go a little early) but not having any idea of when he is going to decide to show up makes it such a waiting game. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel come mid-June. My mom was eleven days late with me so I really need to just plan on going that late too. That way I won't be convinced to be induced sooner than I should. I've decided that I will give myself until June 30 (eleven days after my due date) for him to come on his own unless the doctor has a legitimate reason as to why he should come sooner. Only time will tell!