Show me some blog love...

C'mon! I have statcounter people...I know you're out there! Reading and lurking. Please take the time to comment. The reason being...

I was raised to believe "If you haven't got anything nice to say, don't say anything." Which, now that I think about it, is kind of ironic considering my mom is the one who used to tell me this. Because now my mom has turned into kind of a bitch and says really mean things all the time. I mean really really mean things. Things that make you say "ouch" or "gee thanks mom, 50 points for you and 0 for my self esteem". Like this one time my daughter had been sick (with whooping cough of all things, who still gets that?!) for like 3 months and hardly ate anything and lost all kinds of weight and then at Easter we were at my gma's and she had some mashed potatoes and my mom is all "potatoes will make you pudgy". Are you kidding me?! For real mom! The child is practically anorexic at this point and that's what you come out with??! See what I mean? On the upside, my family did laugh about it later and we called Molly "pudge" for months afterward.

Or just recently, on family vacay, I walked into her bathroom when we were getting ready to go out and she says "You look really pretty tonight" (I know you're thinking that this is probably a compliment...but just wait...there's always a kicker) and I said "as opposed to my usual look?" and she says (here it comes...) "well I really hate your hair and don't think it looks good, but tonight it does". Gah...! I had just cut it short and loved it. Thanks mom.




So anyway...as a result of you all reading and not commenting I think it means that I suck. Because if I can't say something (anything) nice, I don't comment at all. And I guess I just figure that's how everyone works. So if you read it and you like it...tell me so. Otherwise you're just feeding my paranoia, and really, what kind of person does that make you?! Lol. And even if you can't say something nice...you can still comment. Really, I can take it. As you can see...I've had a lot of practice.

catty remarks & snarky comments,
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Road Trips & Reminisces

So I'm nearly packed! I only have three more loads of laundry to do and dinner to cook and I can relax for the night. We leave at 7 am tomorrow morning for Ohio. It's an 8 hour trip. 8 hours on the road with my son & daughter (biologicals). Good thing I like them, eh? We will only be gone for five days, but that's enough to rejuvenate. I like to have the alone time to reconnect with them after their month of camp. And really, with my daughter, it will be the last road trip we'll take together while she lives under our roof. Strange that. And even more importantly, it may be the last trip we take together without the "C" word being a part of our lives. I honestly haven't put much more thought into that. The surgery's now a week and a half away and I think this trip will help keep it off my mind.

So I'm having some issues with my daughter leaving I guess. I thought I was doing all right with the concept, but I seem to have some unresolved anger with her. I don't know what its stemming from. We just seem to start arguing every time we try to talk. She takes offense to everything I say. Maybe it's because she already has one foot out the door. And she resents any attempt at "mothering" on my part. Maybe I'm having some abandonment issues. I wonder, do all mothers feel that way when their daughters leave? Seems like it would be normal to me.

But on to road trips...my sister and I practically grew up in the backseat of my parents car. My dad was in the Air Force so we never stayed in one place long. Inevitably there were at least to treks a year back to the Midwest to see family. One at the holidays and one in the summer. Thankfully, there were only the two of us to cram back there. Although we probably did enough fighting for three or more kids. I always liked traveling at night best. That great feeling of dozing just between asleep and awake. Caught in that twilight land, looking out the window at the night sky and then the huge sweep of lights as we'd pass a well lit interstate exit. There was even something great about stopping at the gas station, a quick trip to the restroom, then climb back into the nest we'd made of the backseat, kick off your shoes, and snuggle back down. It was comforting to be cocooned in the bubble universe of the car hurtling through the night to a familiar destination. Man I miss being a kid sometimes.

Tell me about your road trips and I'll tell you about mine...
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