Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

Still on the Warpath: Naiadknight's Battle Tome

Collapse
X
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • Originally posted by naiadknight View Post
    I know I'm late on the ball, but I finally figured out what Mom's getting for Mother's Day: a painting by moi. I still need to decided what I'm writing over the scene, though.
    I still haven't figured out what mine are getting beyond the description of potted flower...

    Sent from my USCC-US760 using Marks Daily Apple Forum mobile app
    Primal since March 5, 2012
    SW: 221 | CW: 204 | LPW: 166 | UGW: 140 (80 lbs loss)



    Comment


    • Happy Mother's Day!!!!
      Today, I think I finally made my peace with my mother. We held down a civilized conversation, and during it, I had an upsight: she did what she could. Right, wrong, indifferent, cold, warm, she tried. I can't say she failed as a mother. Her ways made us all fiercely independent and turned out better adults than many of the coddled babes I see in the world now.
      We learned the ways of money early. My parents went into credit counseling around the time I was 8 or 10. I remember helping my parents chop up the credit cards. I remember going from the relative luxury of going out to eat or going for Little Caesar's and Blockbuster once a week to maybe once every few months. My parents were very up front: "we can't afford it" or "things are tight right now, I can't make pad thai." We learned the roughs of budgeting by watching Mom and Dad decide dinner or whether Mom could afford the gas for a trip out to visit grandma. We learned to avoid temptation of spending by not going where you could be tempted.
      We learned self sufficiency early. As soon as we could reach the counter by standing on a chair, we were helping peel garlic or tear lettuce. As soon as we could stand on a chair and reach the stove dials (set above the stove at roughly 4' off the ground), we were learning to cook. First Chef Boyardee and ramen, then eggs, then helping with dinner. As soon as we had the fine muscle control for a knife,we were helping chop veggies and meat for dinner. We all had chores, whether or not Mom and Dad were doing allowance at the time.
      We learned the reality of a harsh world. I had an allowance of $2/ week when I bought my first bicycle. I saved up most of a year for that thing and was so proud of it, lovingly chaining it to the jungle gym every night. It was stolen not two weeks later. My parents dug deep and replaced it, getting me a better cable to chain it up with. We grew up with gunshots, drive- bys, and a crackhouse down the road. Our world was not lollipops and cotton candy.
      We also grew up with our interests encouraged as much as my parents could. My mom would take us storm chasing because of my love of tornadoes and meteorology. Cassie loved the family trip to Sea World because of her love for sea mammals. Pat doubled the already extensive Lego and K'Nex. We never heard "that's a boy's toy" or "why do you want something like that?"
      Shows of love didn't happen. We didn't hug much or kiss at all. The family was too practical (and afraid) for that. We showed our love in other ways: giving up precious Legos for a sculpture for Father's Day, cleaning beyond our required chores when Mom and Dad had a long week, babysitting on the fly so Mom could go hang out with her friend, that sort of thing. We weren't lovey dovey. I sometimes wonder if that's how it should've been, but you can't miss what you never had.
      My mother may not have been perfect, but she tried. She dealt with her own issues while trying to handle a kid with bouts of undiagnosed depression, a kid with severe ADHD, and a semi- normal kid. Things weren't perfect, but she did what she could.
      Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
      My Latest Journal

      Comment


      • Very nice that you have come to forgive your mother. Very nice playback of your life. Very often, our background is not what we wish it to be, but it is what makes us who we are today, and if we turned out alright, then chances are our parents didn't do such a bad job after all. It's hard to remember that sometimes.
        Primal since March 5, 2012
        SW: 221 | CW: 204 | LPW: 166 | UGW: 140 (80 lbs loss)



        Comment


        • At some point, I think I was in my 30's, I realized that my mom had had a very difficult and fairly miserable life. It wasn't fair or realistic of me to expect her to be a great mom. She did as well as she could. And that is really all we can expect of anyone. Given that all of us grew up, graduated college, and made decent responsible lives for ourselves says a great deal. And so now I can be friends with her, and be a halfway decent daughter who calls and sends cards and hopes for the best. Of course I still need reminders now and then! Mother's Day provides that for me.
          My Primal Journal: http://www.marksdailyapple.com/forum/thread53052.html

          "Freedom from fear" could be said to sum up the whole philosophy of human rights. - Dag Hammarskjold

          Comment


          • Herro, new to your little corner of MDA.. ^^ This post hit home for me. Made me reflect on the relationship I have with my mother, and how she was treated by her family when she was growing up. It's definitely easy to sometimes disagree with what moms say or how they act or treat us, but... At least for me I need to remind myself that my mom wasn't coddled and told she was loved all the time, not much physical affection, etc.. So I guess it's natural that's how she is with her own kids. O.o Anyhow... Looking forward to keeping up on your journey. =)
            ♣════۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩════♣
            .♪♫]▓▓║MisguidedGhost║▓▓[♫♪.
            ♣════۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩════♣

            Comment


            • My mom showed affection when needed, wasn't often, but did teach quite a few life lessons. Never said a lot of kind things, but I'm now starting to realize she loved me more than I ever gave her credit for. I'm just grateful that you are able to realize this whole your mom is still alive. Hopefully, this will bring you both closer together.
              Georgette

              Comment


              • Hi, Ghost! Vilkommen!
                My mother didn't fail us. She may've not've been perfect, but she was as good as she could be. One of hers is almost a professional engineer, another is a year out from graduating as an engineer, and the third is possibly finally finding her path.
                Thank y'all for your comments, especially all the "Mom wasn't perfect, but she didn't do as bad as I thought" ones. I'm glad I'm not the only one who made that trek.
                Lunch was Texas Spring Rolls: leftover chipotle chicken, garlic sausage, carrot strips, jalapeno strips, and cherry tomatoes wrapped up in lettuce leaves.
                Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                My Latest Journal

                Comment


                • I got shrimp parmigiana at Mi Piaci. Shrimp covered in marina sauce then melted cheese.

                  Nomnomnom.

                  Definitely cutting the nightshades out, though.
                  Most people don't realize how much energy it takes for me to pretend to be normal.

                  If I wanted to listen to an asshole, I'd fart.

                  Twibble's Twibbly Wibbly

                  Comment


                  • I'm glad they had something safe for you (aside from the nightshades.) I generally avoid parmigiana anything in case of fried.
                    Tonight was steak, grilled crab, and salad.
                    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                    My Latest Journal

                    Comment


                    • Lessee, yesterday... Finished up the RAS on that project, so now I'm stuck with generic grading and customer bullshit. Got to wipe 2 projects off my board, move one from inactive to active, and add another, joy of joys.
                      Lunch was rice noodles and chipotle chicken in egg drop soup. Yeah, I know, rice flour ain't primal. It was a good filler for what I wanted given my time constraints. I damn near caved to the leftover bean burritos before I pulled out the rice noodles.
                      Had a funeral to go to after that, for a woman I briefly met. Mostly went as a show of support for a buddy/ coworker (her brother's wife.) I know this sounds wrong, but I think going to a funeral for someone you never met should be a mandatory thing. Aside from the brief overview of the deceased, most are generic enough that the tears you cry are cathartic for old wounds. When you go as a show of support for a single person, you get that brief "loss of self" that you only get when you take care of someone in a spiritual way. Prayer never did that for me, I'm too hands on.
                      Dinner was lettuce wraps (pastrami, provolone, whole grain mustard) and two large bowls of caprese salad.
                      Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                      My Latest Journal

                      Comment


                      • Rice noodles are a lovely benign option, IMO.

                        Interesting thoughts on the funeral. I haven't had the opportunity to go to many, but I think I understand what you're saying. I didn't go to the funeral for a former classmate who passed during my senior year of high school. I barely knew him and my memories of him were unpleasant ones from middle school. It's not really about the deceased though, it's about the family and friends, and what you can do for them simply by being there.
                        Depression Lies

                        Comment


                        • My mind is not in a safe place. Well, it's safer than it has been in the past, but that says little. I've been too lax on my diet, supplements, and walking, and the old whispers have started showing up again. I recognize them as the sign/ symptom they are, but those flashes are not my friend.
                          I take care of others, make sure they're ok. Why is it so hard to do it for myself? I can be your worst nightmare if you cross one I love, but stomp on me and I scurry away like a cockroach.
                          No. No self pity. It is a useless emotion. It does nothing helpful or productive.
                          I've been spiraling away, closer to danger than safety in terms of doing or not doing what I should. The further I spiral out, the harder it is to reverse momentum. I know this.
                          I think I'll try a trifold plan: a money stack, a threat, and a goal.
                          Goal: Eat purely primal, in any/ all quantities, for all meals and snacks. 90/10 allowed, but only when it's out of my hands. There is now a death sentence on wheat. At least 6000 steps a day.
                          Money Stack: A weekly budget is set aside to allow for a $1/ day progression, ending after 7 days, with an extra dollar per weekend day. This is blow money, with a possible total of $30 for a perfect week, to be used that week as a ransom payment to myself.
                          Threat: For each day with a deliberate stray from primal, not only do I not get the monetary amount set aside for that day, but it is then earmarked to be donated to a "charity" group that isn't harmful, but that I don't agree with (I'm thinking the Komen for the Cure nonprofit. I point blank refuse to support things like Westboro or gay conversion camps, even as a threat, as that is still support for a wrong cause. Komen for the Cure is a cause I support but a group I don't, making it perfect. )
                          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                          My Latest Journal

                          Comment


                          • Sounds like a great plan, but why don't you support Komen? Just curious. I don't know much about the organization except that they raise money for breast cancer.
                            Primal since March 5, 2012
                            SW: 221 | CW: 204 | LPW: 166 | UGW: 140 (80 lbs loss)



                            Comment


                            • Irreputable nonprofit. They claim to support breast cancer as a nonprofit, but very little (16%) of what they bring in actually goes to the research they claim to support. Charity Navigator gave them 4 stars, but if you dig deeper into their records, things don't line up. When the CEO gets a multi million dollar salary, plus hefty benefits, I have problems.
                              Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                              My Latest Journal

                              Comment


                              • I heard the same about Komen last year. It's really sad when they are set to do so much good but don't. If I had extra money for charity, I would either give to a local hospice or the local MS Society.
                                Georgette

                                Comment

                                Working...
                                X