Hamlet had mom-issues, too.
ahh, mother's day. coincidentally, the same week as open house for daughter, nephew, and work.
but the open-houses are just scheduling stress. (and I still don't have a powerpoint from the kids for them to show their parents, but, you know, whatever. frankly.)
but mother's day. I never know how to get this one right. I talk to my biological mother 3 times a year, and we don't exactly get along. I live with my stepmom, and she's great, but . . . she's more like a room-mate than a parent; when I was a little kid and needed parenting, she was, well . . . uncaring. the woman I really looked up to back then was Julie Fry, but I haven't spoken with her in years. I probably should. but it feels really awkward since I cut off my interaction with the other Fry children.
Plus Brandy, of course, ever-flaky, self-obsessed Brandy who is the mother of my daughter.
I can only imagine what honest cards to each of them would say, since I don't intend to be honest, but nice. hrm. but cards are probably the way to go. that'll be an interesting conversation with the clerk at the card-shop. 'Just gimme a mom-day variety pack,' I will say.
I won't say that. muh. mother's day always makes me wonder the same thing; should I even get anything for my mom? do I owe her some feigned affection for the first ten years of my life, during which time she was, in fact, a pretty good mom? or to Branny, who broke my heart twice, is rapidly turning into a not-very-nice person, but is against all odds a good mom? well, okay, that answers itself.
this sounds whiny, but it's just rambling, in my head.
words, words, words . . . it is a book of satire, sir.
but the open-houses are just scheduling stress. (and I still don't have a powerpoint from the kids for them to show their parents, but, you know, whatever. frankly.)
but mother's day. I never know how to get this one right. I talk to my biological mother 3 times a year, and we don't exactly get along. I live with my stepmom, and she's great, but . . . she's more like a room-mate than a parent; when I was a little kid and needed parenting, she was, well . . . uncaring. the woman I really looked up to back then was Julie Fry, but I haven't spoken with her in years. I probably should. but it feels really awkward since I cut off my interaction with the other Fry children.
Plus Brandy, of course, ever-flaky, self-obsessed Brandy who is the mother of my daughter.
I can only imagine what honest cards to each of them would say, since I don't intend to be honest, but nice. hrm. but cards are probably the way to go. that'll be an interesting conversation with the clerk at the card-shop. 'Just gimme a mom-day variety pack,' I will say.
I won't say that. muh. mother's day always makes me wonder the same thing; should I even get anything for my mom? do I owe her some feigned affection for the first ten years of my life, during which time she was, in fact, a pretty good mom? or to Branny, who broke my heart twice, is rapidly turning into a not-very-nice person, but is against all odds a good mom? well, okay, that answers itself.
this sounds whiny, but it's just rambling, in my head.
words, words, words . . . it is a book of satire, sir.