The weird girl in hiding. . part I

Since I can remember I was always that "weird girl". I was quiet and kept to myself. In fact I didn't even talk to anyone unless forced to nor did I interact with my peers until I was in the third grade. During my childhood, my friendships were always initiated by adults, other friends and/or almost always situational. (We attended summer school together or went to the same church)

As I hit my teenage years I took a few more chances and perhaps 8 times out of 10 I didn't scare the person off. As I completed high school (just barely) I planned to join the Navy and enlisted in the delayed entry program.

This is when I began to change my life. . I ran around the neighborhood every day and kept my social interactions to a minimum. I was calmer and focused, on my own, but still just as clueless when immersed within a group of people.

When I joined the armed forces my physical fitness and persistence is what made me successful. That and a nice, "squared away" uniform. It was easy to just be told what to do and where to go. Still I was constantly screwing up at work but the above seemed to deem me in good standing with my superiors. Perhaps my quiet demeanor coupled with my young age was seen as an endearing quality to some. I shall never know. Command functions were my main means of socialization and were eventually quite predictable. After work I either spent my time at the gym or back at the barracks.

While living on base I would sometimes take the bus, alone, to the movies or the gym and almost never went into a social situation unless invited by others. I was still dubbed "a little weird" or "mute girl" by my military peers. My roommate even told me I was a little weird but she liked me anyway. A bitter sweet compliment? The few situational friends that I had would plan outings now and then that I was invited to attend.

This is how I met my future husband. He was a friend of a friend and didn't seem to notice my strange demeanor and we got along just fine. He was from another country that he was learning to navigate socially. I could relate to him. I wasn't interested in him as more than a friend but I stuck around anyway. I didn't have to socialize with anyone when I was with him and he was charming and practically did it for me. It would be fair to say that I hid behind him when with a group of people.

Time went by , we married , had children and I was no longer that "weird girl". I was so and so's wife and a mother. I seemed normal. Unusually normal in some sickening sort of way. Having children, especially, forced me to socialize and I soon learned the lingo of motherhood as I attended parenting groups. Amongst these groups were a few online communities I found on the internet.

I was in a parallel universe that I found was not much different from the real world. I could still see everyone else around me connecting with each other while I stood on the outside. But it was also that social universe that did connect me with people and that "universe" that helped me make it through one of the hardest transitions I have ever experienced.

The past few years have been the hardest. I no longer have the military to guide me. I have failed at my relationship with my husband and with others in the civilian community which include those that I have attended college with and the other parents of my children within this society I currently reside in.
I can see the same patterns repeating themselves.,
I ran away from something only to find out I can't hide from it anymore. . . .

Family update

My 7 year old M:


I'm going to talk to M's teacher on Monday.
Her teacher thinks she is unusually intelligent but it is not showing it in her work or tests. We have to struggle with her just to get an average performance from her. I'm worried that perhaps I should have held her back in the first grade.
One of my concerns is her motor skills and her handwriting. I'm thinking of getting her more beads to work on her fine motor skills. This may help a bit with handwriting.

I put her hair in braids all this week. She loved it and we didn't have to brush it. (lazy parents!)

It' fits her personality quite well.

My 3 year old N:

Here is an example of one of our conversations today. (-: :

me: N, what color is that (me pointing to her shirt)?
N: "What color"
me: What color is the flower on your shirt?
N: "Color"

I guess she will do it when she is ready.

Me, myself, and I:

My thoughts are a bit random lately and unorganized so I am sure it is apparent when I post on here. I will make it short.

I am taking an internet math class now. I have not even looked at the book and we are a month in. I'm just not able to do it now. I barely holding my house together as it is.

Talking to my dad

I have to talk to my dad but it has been told to me, by my mother, that I should not write him a letter on e-mail but, instead, it is best to speak with him on the phone. I don't like this. I have a very difficult time speaking compared to writing. I express myself one-hundred times better with a letter. I'm pretty sure my father is the same way. He also hates talking on the phone (Unless he is talking about computers or playing in his concerts (he's a musician)). This is not something my mother tends to understand but I do get her point and if I e-mail him I don't want everyone reading it.

Here's the issue:

Every year, during the holidays, my father sends us a couple of gift certificates for $250 each. This is more than what we need and we are in a serious financial bind. I want to ask him to send money instead but I just can't do it.
I do, at least, need to let him know that we are unable to visit them this holiday like they wanted because our situation keeps us from driving 5 hours up to ** to visit. We can't even go for drives because we have no money for gas and my husband's father is sending us down to ** on New Years so that we can see his Grandma whom has been getting very sick.

I know better not to listen to my mother when it comes to talking to my dad. She has it out for him and she is very bitter (I believe my father also has Aspergers syndrome which would explain A LOT) and she has always used us for revenge against my dad.

well, enough of this, blah blah blah. I've already decided to not ask my dad for money but I do at least need to let him know about our situation so that he doesn't think we are blowing him off.

I think I will write him AND talk to him on the phone and I will do both because;
1. He may be drunk and not remember the conversation
2. I've decided that I don't mind that his wife reads the e-mail
3. Telling him about my situation won't give him a HINT about my situation because my father doesn't get hints (nor do I give them. I'm pretty direct) but I think he will appreciate me not asking for money since my siblings frequently do and I don't want to be put in the same category.

At my mom's place

So we drove to *** (12 hours. 10 if my husband didn't decide to take his own route) and got there around 1 in the morning.
I hate long drives.
I got to see my little girl and she did, in fact, grow! I have tons of pics but most of them aren't digital.

I had a bit of a meltdown, yesterday, while I was there. My family was forgiving and, of course, thought it was for other reasons since it involved my dad. I guess it is best they see me in that light than know the real reason why I was upset or frustrated. I was fine after an hour or so and things worked out.
I saw my dad too and got to use his Canon Rebel (woo hoo!).

Tomorrow morning we leave to go back to **.

My 2 year old has been throwing a constant tantrums since I got here. She can't handle any new environment and it is difficult for me to deal with.
What is even more difficult to deal with is that my husband can't handle her tantrums and acts about the age of 2 himself. ~sigh~

I included a picture of the road in front of my mother's house taken during the winter time. It takes your breath away and actually makes me miss the winter. There is nothing like a solitary walk down a snow covered road, surrounded by silence, so silent you can even hear the snow fall. It arouses something in me that I can't even begin to describe.
I need to get away.
Coming back here reminds me of that.