Wrote this in 2006, but the advice still holds…hope it helps somebody going through it.
heard through the grapevine somebody i know may be facing some custody issues soon. since this is something i know waaayyyy too much about (unfortunately), i figured i’d share some tips that may help anybody is this position. take it for what it’s worth—we didn’t win. but i know we learned a lot, too. so, you know. maybe our painful history can help someone else.
Well, hell. It’s rude. That’s what it is. But you know, sometimes, people are rude. But damn.
I was outside, minding my own business. I am pretty good at that–minding my own business, that is. Actually, I was watering my flowers. One of my neighbors was outside, visiting with a friend of his. I was mostly not paying attention. But something perked up my ears…
“…what about the crazy cat lady?” says the neighbor. Huh? Crazy cat lady?
Told you Mom’s been cleaning out her stuff via my living room. Here’s some of what she brought me. She didn’t know I was going to use the sewing machine for making Tarot bags and the desk for doing readings. Didn’t ask. And that, my friends, is example of a success communication strategy with parents and adult children: don’t ask what you don’t want to know, and they won’t tell you.
They came back. After I saw myself described as “paranoid and reclusive” for acknowledging how I don’t trust the census and it bugs me how much the government is over-reaching into our personal lives, the good ol’ US of A’s main man, Uncle Sam, is back at it.
Geez Loiuse. This makes FOUR in-person visits from the Census to my house. For one form that was sent in already.
When you put energy out there, what are your expectations on a return?
There was a time, whatever I did, I had a clear picture of what I thought I’d get in return. I worked at a job, started a business, created websites, went to school, whatever it was, with clear, specific expectations on exactly where the path was going to take me. I “knew” just how each action was going to impact my life and make it better.
Except for one, especially pesky little issue: I was almost always wrong.
I have no doubt people think I’m nuts. Well-meaning, but nuts. I try not to let that bother me. (Often, I succeed.) But sometimes, it’s just a bit much and I get tired of keeping my mouth shut. It may surprise some of you I do actually keep my mouth shut at times, but it’s true.
I’m not a fan of the Census. Now, before anybody starts spouting off about the importance of new roads and how will the government be able to accurately gauge Congressional representation, stop right there. I’ve seen the commercials, okay? I’m aware of all the nifty little “benefits” touted by the $340 million dollars spent on just marketing the census. I am willing to go so far as provide a headcount for my household–in other words, I’m perfect willing to provide the information that’s constitutionally allowable for my government to ask.
I recently found out a client of mine–and her husband–committed suicide. It made the news, but the story wasn’t accurate. It had the couple’s ages reversed, said they were from California instead of Oklahoma, and failed to mention that the wife survived only one additional day after being retrieved from the hotel room. They were in their fifties.
When you read an email with news like that, you just say, “Wow.” It slaps you upside the head and you can’t just shake it off. Continue reading Checking Out
I went to visit Dad in the hospital. They expect him to be fine, after they add a couple more stints to his heart. But he’s almost 80. So, you never know. They just moved back into town, it’s a half hour trip. I’m going to see him before he goes to surgery.
My brother was there, with his wife, now adult son, and granddaughter. He looks, walks, and sounds so much like my dad it’s freakish. I haven’t seen him for maybe 15 years; been probably a decade since I’ve heard his voice. They’re all dressed up, fresh from their meeting.
He was nice enough to me, and talked to me a little. But it’s weird as holy Hell, you know? It’s like it’s this person you know but you don’t, and everybody’s acting like it’s not weird that we haven’t talked in 15 years. It’s not even mentioned or acknowledged. Continue reading Family Flashbacks