The Joys of Family Togetherness Time
Dec. 9th, 2007 08:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lunasarielOK, so I've basically figured out the purpose of this journal: this is where I rant about all the real-life or non-story-related stuff, mostly the stuff that gets me down, but also some happier events, as exemplified by my last entry. Tonight's topic is: my dad.
We *finally* got Jay over to Dad's house for dinner, after a year and a half of them thinking he was a figment of my imagination. I'm not sure how it went. The dinner was two hours late, Dad bought the ribs instead of making his famous molé sauce, everybody told corny Christian jokes and said a really long grace, and generally was loud and rambunctious, like they always were. Then on the ride home, it went like it always does: after a cursory rundown of the evening, Dad starts in on his wine. He's a winemaker, and sometimes I think he's a winemaker first, everything else second. I sit there, smiling and nodding and going "mm-hm" and asking obvious questions at the proper intervals. Yarr.
I don't know why, but I've been thinking about Mom and Dad splitting up a lot more than I used to. It happened when I was maybe eight or nine, so I don't remember it that well. I remember that they were both really great about it. They never fought in front of us (or if they did, we didn't figure it out), they made absolutely sure that we knew that it wasn't our fault so we didn't develop that weird guilt complex, and there was never any question of dragging us into court. But if I was eight, Peter would have been six, and Anna would have been one (I remember she was still unsteady on her feet), so It wouldn't have done an awful lot of good.
But now, I'm 17, so I get to see a lot more of the seemy underbelly of why they split up. Dad is obsessed with his work, which means he's usually late, *always* busy, gets up and goes to bed at unusual hours, and travels frequently. Mom complains a lot and acts martyred, but I don't know how long that's really been going on. Now I'm wondering if Anna wasn't some sort of last-ditch attempt to save the marriage. Oh yeah, and Mom hates Dad's family, and I don't think they like her much either.
Lately, I've been noticing the petty mini-custody battles, the one-upsmanship, all the oh-so-polite spats they have. I hate how I always have to watch what I say, in case I'm actually stating my preference for one over the other. I always feel like I'm carrying tales or betraying people when I talk to one parent about the other. And then there's that guardedly spiteful attitude Mom and Mara have towards each other. Each one thinks that the other one is a controlling, possessive, psychotic bitch who can't keep a house or raise a child to save their lives. From what I can tell, Mara is smug and righteous, and Mom is indignant and pointedly liberal. Aaargh.
We *finally* got Jay over to Dad's house for dinner, after a year and a half of them thinking he was a figment of my imagination. I'm not sure how it went. The dinner was two hours late, Dad bought the ribs instead of making his famous molé sauce, everybody told corny Christian jokes and said a really long grace, and generally was loud and rambunctious, like they always were. Then on the ride home, it went like it always does: after a cursory rundown of the evening, Dad starts in on his wine. He's a winemaker, and sometimes I think he's a winemaker first, everything else second. I sit there, smiling and nodding and going "mm-hm" and asking obvious questions at the proper intervals. Yarr.
I don't know why, but I've been thinking about Mom and Dad splitting up a lot more than I used to. It happened when I was maybe eight or nine, so I don't remember it that well. I remember that they were both really great about it. They never fought in front of us (or if they did, we didn't figure it out), they made absolutely sure that we knew that it wasn't our fault so we didn't develop that weird guilt complex, and there was never any question of dragging us into court. But if I was eight, Peter would have been six, and Anna would have been one (I remember she was still unsteady on her feet), so It wouldn't have done an awful lot of good.
But now, I'm 17, so I get to see a lot more of the seemy underbelly of why they split up. Dad is obsessed with his work, which means he's usually late, *always* busy, gets up and goes to bed at unusual hours, and travels frequently. Mom complains a lot and acts martyred, but I don't know how long that's really been going on. Now I'm wondering if Anna wasn't some sort of last-ditch attempt to save the marriage. Oh yeah, and Mom hates Dad's family, and I don't think they like her much either.
Lately, I've been noticing the petty mini-custody battles, the one-upsmanship, all the oh-so-polite spats they have. I hate how I always have to watch what I say, in case I'm actually stating my preference for one over the other. I always feel like I'm carrying tales or betraying people when I talk to one parent about the other. And then there's that guardedly spiteful attitude Mom and Mara have towards each other. Each one thinks that the other one is a controlling, possessive, psychotic bitch who can't keep a house or raise a child to save their lives. From what I can tell, Mara is smug and righteous, and Mom is indignant and pointedly liberal. Aaargh.
