Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Excuses, Memory Lane & Secrets

Excuses, that's all I ever make. Oh, please add on lies. I'm excellent at it, the bane of my existence. --- Those are his words to define me by. It isn't nice; no one wants to be called a liar outright or be caught in the middle of an excuse. To him, it's all the same. I'm just a terrible liar who can't make anything important happen.

I can't defend myself, I can only rant because that is also what I'm excellent at. I'm the one who makes promises and doesn't get to them for weeks, like doing the dishes or help with the laundry, or setting an appointment -- I've never even used those words on him as harsh as he does for me; because I know it HURTS.

I love him so much, so very much.

I've never been great at talking to people one on one about personal  matters of the heart and feelings; emotions. I wasn't raised into a family who expressed themselves openly coming from my background and culture. There's always more to understand and not be ignorant about.

1. I cook, most of the time when I can
2. I wash the dishes, yes-- by hand, I find out cheating with the dishwasher doesn't make them clean.
3. I do the laundry
4. I take at least my half of the trash out, the dog out...
5. I'm becoming like my mom, just the laziest version of her because I can't compare to her standards but I'm alright with that. <3 you Mommy.

I just want to be appreciated and would like help without having to ask for it; is there something wrong with desiring it?What more can you want or need?

I need to grow a backbone, a stronger one. I don't want to be stepped on like my father did my mother; leaving them was one of the hardest things I've done because I didn't want to become something similar to that...being an Asian wife, a Hmong wife...my mom did everything in her power to love, cherish and take care of her family. She's one of the dedicated types, the obeying traditional wife who could do no wrong in the eyes of her family, relatives, clan, and culture. My father took advantage of her love and twisted it in so many ways it broke all our hearts.

What did she do wrong?

Mom cooked- morning, noon, and night. She practically raised all seven of her kids by herself, found work to make more money; she's excellent at needlework and that was a great source of income in the "Old Country" as what I'd like to call our old life in Thailand. She did the dishes, tidied up the house and garden, raised the chicken...did the laundry, and in my opinion slaved for love. She didn't even love my father to start off with - he kidnapped her to be his bride. I shake my head, as I know she has grown to accept, love, and respect my father and for him to treat her as if she was no better than an animal. No, he's not a wife beater. He's never laid a hand on her or any of us kids no matter how bad his temper was and he has a very bad temper. He did come close one time though when they got into a heated argument about his inexcusable "relationships" with other women and I, for once had enough of it and dashed in the middle to protect her when he pushed her. I guess that was the first time I cried at the age of 18 in front of them both, for I was sure the hand he raised was going to slap me. He held back. He was abusive mentally, if not physically, and my mom bore all of it. She's so traditonal, she really can't understand this is America and that she doesn't need to be locked in now, and for once have the freedom she's never had to stand up for herself. Women hide behind the clan elders for help and guidance to resolve family related issues, she was one of these hopefuls, but of course they couldn't persuade my father to change his bad ways. He was an important head figure in my clan too. Sad. Anywho, enough of this route into memory lane. The bottom line is, I don't want to end up broken hearted like her. She says to us kids that we're her only hope and reason now.

I used to get into fights with her all the time, couldn't, wouldn't, and didn't want to understand her reasons behind everything - the way she does what she does. She always told me, "No one's going to love you more than your own mom." And now I know that she's so right...right all along; I tell her she's right at every chance I get.
Now I'm a mother to a beautiful month old baby girl of my own, and I feel just as much if not more of that saying. Just wait til she gets older. Taking care of her isn't easy. Being away from her long isn't either. She gives me joy and I'm content. My little secret for the past nine months is finally here, out in the open. I feel as if I've secretly kept her to myself, safe from the world, and from the harm of wandering thoughts. I've never once blogged about her, but I can freely now. I'm just weird like that. My mother was like that too when she was pregnant. It might be due to shyness, or a cultural thing..but I sure inherited not talking a lot about my pregnancy to anyone but close members of my family. I didn't even tell my best friends who lived a couple of states away that I was pregnant until the day before she was born. How terrible is that? Horrible communication, I know! I'm probably the worst ever. at. that.

Aight, I'm off to bed. My back hurts, I'm sore all over and I need rest before my little Caity awakes for her night feeding. She's so good already I really can't complain. I love her to pieces.

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