Priorities

As parents, my husband and I are extremely active in the lives of our children. We coach ball, attend games, run a scout den and the list goes on. There are a lot of people, who don't know us, in the community who look down upon us when we first arrive. Pulling up in our 1993 Nissan Sentra, with its rusted out hood, trunk that doesn't latch and beat up door panels. No, its not a nice car but it runs and does what we need it to do. I cant help but smile and remember what I left to get here.
Growing up, my maternal grandmother had a butler and a cook. Needless to say she never wanted for a thing and was accustomed to a certain way of life. I remember her saying "It's just as easy to love a rich man as a poor one." My Grandfather was not rich but he made enough to keep her comfortable. She had a set of standards and expectations for her life and my grandfather worked well through his 70's ensuring that she had it. By the time he retired he received 5 retirement checks. Grandma was comfortable.
My mother received the ideas of life passed down from my grandmother. She has always said "I only date a man who can afford me." Mom didn't do yard work, she didn't like to clean and she surely didn't work. "That's what we pay people for." is what she would say when I was growing up. We had a maid who came in twice a week.
My fathers childhood was a little different. His family is where I get my Native American heritage from. He grew up very poor. He never owned a piece of clothing that wasn't hand made by my grandmother or passed down from the reservation until he was a grown man and could buy it himself. His father was a fisherman by trade and in the winter months when there wasn't very much work they went to the reservation for food. I remember this. I also remember my dad putting himself through college. I remember him working as a bartender to pay his tuition. When he finished with his degree he decided to further his education. After many years of part time college, supporting a new family and paying child support on me; he succeeded. My father is very financially comfortable now. He averages 4 trips a year around the world, just because.
My mother remarried a man "who could afford her" when I was 4 1/2. Growing up we never lived in a house under 3000 square feet and that was "beneath us". We had nice cars, expensive jewelry, nice clothes. We didn't have get-togethers, we "entertained". We kept up with the Jones's. In return, we had no self esteem, no sense of reality, and an altered sense of how the world worked. You were judged by what you had and someone always had more.
Growing up, I hob-nobbed with senators and dined with billionaires. "Entertained" the rich and partied with the poor. I have been offered "sanctuary" by one of the richest families in this country. I have vacationed in Martha's Vineyard. I have been to foreign countries on shopping sprees. I slept with a rich man and made passionate love to a poor man.
I saw the people from that life and it isn't one I want for myself or my family. I want my children strong because of who they are not what they have. We have a nice home, a car that runs, food on the table and more love than I ever witnessed growing up. We aren't perfect but we are happier than I ever knew existed. Everything we have, we earned and to be honest...I wouldn't care if we didn't have it anymore.

When our daughter died my grandparents couldn't buy her back. My dad couldn't buy her back. There was only one thing that mattered, only one single importance and it had absolutely nothing to do with money and everything to do with eachother.

Valium, morphine..Can I stock up?

Here lately a new form of neurosis has begun. Not that I'm not accustomed to being neurotic, I am. I knew this was coming, figured it wouldn't be to easy but I didn't expect the lack of ability to control it. I can be doing something so very normal, driving down the road for example, absolutely nothing to do with the cause of my neurosis; and all of a sudden...WHAM! It just hits me, my mind goes into overdrive. There is no pause button, no chance to regain composure. Just me sitting there in full blown crazy. I suppose it would be easier if I just wrote what the cause was, which I'm going to just bear with me. You see, there is this crazy part of my brain that writing it out makes it so real for. Almost like if I don't admit it then it will go away. That crazy childhood game of "I cant see you so you cant see me".

Take a deep breath, here it comes.

In less than 6 months..

I will be...

The parent of an adult child.

My baby girl, my first born will be 18 years old. It is to a big deal!! No, I don't much care about the getting older thing. Hell, I use that to my advantage. "I said what? No, I don't remember saying that's ok. What did you expect I'm old, memory's going." The problem here is that she is just a baby! No really, you don't understand. I remember 18, remember thinking I was grown. But she is just a baby!! She is not ready for that horrible cruel world out there and I'm not ready to send her to it, damn it!
We were sitting in the kitchen the other day having a nice normal family discussion when the little ass announces that she already has 3 friends lined up who are going to go clubbing with her on her 18th birthday. She really thinks she is going clubbing on her birthday. Cute isn't she. She is staying home and having ice cream and cake. I'm not going to do this well, this isn't working for me. We have enough financial worries with sending the child to college this year (which I am also not real happy about) without having to worry about bail money. 18 is not grown, she will be out at some club..Just a baby; and some grown man is going to want to dance and put his hands on her. He knows she is just a baby but being the pervert he is, does not care! (This is where the bail money comes in)
I hear jail isn't so bad. 3 meals a day, no real responsibility. Maybe I could even go in on an insanity plea. Get a nice comfy bed in a psych ward in some state institution. Some really good drugs that make me drool on myself.
Anyone?