What happened on Saturday

Just so you know, the lunch on Saturday was fine. I didn’t have a fabulous time, but I never really do have a good time at my parent’s house.

However, this time I was mentally prepared to be “good” and I was not looking for, nor expecting, fun and games. Therefore, all went well. I decided that I was not going to be annoyed, stressed or bored whilst there, so - I wasn’t. I made up my mind not to let any comments bother me, so - they didn't. I also knew not to feel as if I should try to help tidy up, do any cooking, or keep the boys away from the birds, plants and antiques, so - I didn’t. I also determined to leave when I saw/knew/sensed-with-my-mother-radar that my boys needed/wanted to go, and so – we did. That certainly was a good move. Screaming toddlers just make everyone annoyed and stressed, including me.

We arrived around 11, the boys napped, I set the table, the boys woke up, we had lunch, watched half of the Wizard of Oz and by 3:00, in time for the boys to take another nap on the way home. I psyched myself up to tune out any irritants, and it really worked. Of course my mother made a few of her usual comments, but I just ignored them. This is my father apologizing for not calling me about my Great Aunt:

“I was on the phone for years to England and to my brother and you lot (my sister, brother and I) just weren’t on my mind. I am so sorry, but I simply forgot.” I knew that was just his way and was the best apology I was going to get, so I said, “It’s okay, I’m over it.” If I look into my heart I see, yes, honestly, I am.

Besides his apology, he also gave me two glossy cooking magazines with Post-It notes on about forty items from different stores and websites to get for him. This is also his usual way. He genuinely thinks I have a lot of time, and he does not realize that any time I get on line is spent blogging, or emailing or maybe shopping or looking for a Pingvin. Either that, or he knows I have this bizarre desire to make other people happy, so I am willing to go on line for him to all these different websites, and look for the Estonian birch wood serving bowl with mother of pearl trim he feels he really, really needs. The DH saw the magazines, saw the list I made of the websites, and said, “That’s going to take you about three hours.”

Yeah, I know, but I am being the “good” daughter now. I shouldn’t complain too much, he got my sister to find about a million books for him on line, and this was as she was preparing for her new semester's classes, editing her dissertation for publication and taking care of her two kiddies while her DH was overseas for work.

Our parents just do not see that we are adults in our own right, with lives to attend to and things to do and our own crises to cope with. I don’t think they ever will. This whole Great Auntie debacle taught me that if my relationship with them is going to improve it is entirely up to me to make that improvement. They are too wooden, too selfish and too "old" to make any changes or concessions. It’s up to me.

It’s so true that old is a state of mind. I have a friend who is 60, just a few years younger than The ‘Rents. She and I can talk about, and relate to each other on, a whole world of subjects. We are both still searching for the right career, the right state of mind and the right way to be. She is not "old" at all, but that’s because she keeps searching and learning and changing. She’s also a little unhappy, but that is what spurs her search. I wonder if my parents are really happy? Ya know, they probably really are…and they probably think, in complete honesty, that I am the only one in our relationship with problems. Humph.

So, I’d better get off this blog and get to the Web.

First stop – americancraftmuseum dot com, for the Indonesian hand-carved kamagong-wood salad servers. Here they are! Yes, I need to set up a new account, let's make up a user name, a password and key question. Now, here is my shipping address, billing address, credit card, security code, and mother’s maiden name…

Deep sigh.

Only thirty-nine sites left to go.