Peace, Peace

Peace, peace, peace on Earth

And goodwill to all. 

This is a time for joy,

This is a time for love.

Now let us all sing together

of peace, peace, peace on Earth.

(This is the little song I taught the kids so we could sing for Great-Grandma as a present. I didn't know my Dear Husband would grab the camera for a video. But I'm glad he did, so I can share it with you all. My sister Rebecca, it should bring back fond memories of Madrigal dinners!)

I hope all of you reading this had wonderful Christmases!

Christmas (Almost but Not) Ruined--the Homefront Version

So sorry to be such a bummer in these posts. It's almost over--while the big story of what God will do with us and through all this fallen, interpersonal mess is yet to unfold, this short little segment of the story is almost over. Because today is Thursday, tomorrow is Friday, and Saturday we are heading back up to Chico for the beginning of the big family Christmas celebration of 2014. : )  We're going up so far before Christmas because it will be Great-Grandma's 95th birthday on Sunday (woo-hoo!), and so some of DH's cousins and their kids will be there, and there will be an open-house for friends and well-wishers of Great-Grandma. Then the days leading up to Christmas cousins and their families will come and go, so I have heard, and by Christmas Eve it will just be us and Great-Grandma and DH's parents.  Our plan right now is to stay through the 26th, with the option to stay until the 27th or even the 28th if things are so fun that we can't bear to leave.

Of course, given every other week-long visit in our history of being in this family, the odds are much more likely to head in the opposite direction. So that's why we said the 26th. That and we want to be sure and get home in time to have our own little Home Christmas, which right now we have planned for the Monday after that weekend. (Coming home to a house with no food after a week away, I at least need one day to grocery shop, cook, etc. before our home celebration!)

Anyway, I wanted to write down this latest chapter of the family saga because I wanted to think through all that happened, so I could take from it what I needed to have my heart in a wise and loving place before we go back up, and then let all the rest of it go. Also, I wanted to think through it all to help me figure out What To Do About It. 

And it has helped--even if it was much more painful than I anticipated. Mainly because it took too long to write it all out, and so I felt like I was dwelling in the negative more than I had intended when I started writing. Also, I started feeling like I was bumming the rest of you who might read this out as we get closer to Christmas and we all want to be in happy places! Focusing on Good and Peace and Hope and Joy!  Not focusing on the rest-of-the-year human frailties and fallen-ness we all experience. 

Also, this has been a very painful couple of weeks because not only have I had to work through MIL things, but also things within my home and marriage--because poor DH has been working through them too.

I never wrote about this last year, although I meant to.  It was a very big heart deal at the time, but I was too wrung to write it out. I'll share the important parts now: last Spring I helped plan and carry out our first Vintage Faith women's retreat.  It was a weekend at a retreat center run by some Franciscan monks. It was a good weekend. The speaker, named Susie, was not from our church, so I was completely surprised when she shared in her first talk that she had grown up under the oppression of an emotionally and verbally abusive mother, and she focused much of her talks all weekend on all that God had done in her because of/since that.

Of course I wanted to talk to Susie after hearing her say all that, but I did not want to pounce on her either. ; )  Instead, I asked God to give me a Word through her--some wisdom I need to have for healing the relationship with MIL, or at least handling it the way God wants me to.  All through the event, the talks were good, but nothing struck me as directly meant for me.  I really felt God had something to say to me, though.  But even through the last official talk on Saturday, I still felt like I was waiting.  Sat night ended, the women were hanging out, going to bed, etc. I was puttering around putting things away from our snack table and neatening up.  Then unexpectedly at midnight, Susie walked back in the door to the meeting space--she had left her notebook and came back for it.  I did not want to try to start a conversation with her, given the lateness of the hour and how tired she must be from leading two talks that day, but I at least wanted to ask her if I could email her later on and get her feedback on some of my own MIL stuff.  I did, she said yes--and then we ended up chatting anyway, and that led to more serious discussion, and then God Spoke.

Susie had asked about my own MIL situation, and as I tried to briefly explain (keep in mind this is only a month after the Big Turning Point conversation of January, so I was still stressed and raw from all the Big Processing I was doing at that time), I found myself getting info "fight or flight" mode just standing there talking to Susie (a touch of Post Traumatic Stress coming out) and it must have been very clear to Susie. I was telling her how burdened I felt, and like the weight of it all was on me, and feeling myself getting tense and panicky, and she interrupted me and said, "You know, I don't know if this is from God or not, but I feel like I need to tell you this. This should be your husband's battle, not yours."  She said not only was this his mother and not mine, but also he is supposed to be the defender of our family, not me, and so I needed to relinquish that role to him.  As she said those things, I am totally serious--it was like a tingly wash of water poured down on me from my head down over my body.  I literally felt like a shower was pouring over me--which immediately told me this was the Word planned for me by the power of the Divine Counselor.  Of course I started crying, and as Susie kept talking with me I felt a huge weight lifting off of me.

A few minutes later, as she and I finished the deep sharing and got into some chatting again, she suddenly interrupted again to say, "I want you to know. . . my husband was not always my champion.  But I chose to believe he was, and over time he became my champion." More tears there--because of course so much of my struggle in our marriage has been because I so easily feel devalued and not cherished or protected, all things my heart of hearts secretly desires.  In regards to our relationship with my MIL, my Dear Husband does not think he or I need defending from his mom's negativity and accusations and condemnation. He grew up with it, and so is naturally inclined to keep quiet or just ignore it. I do not at all fault him for this--I understand how this has been his coping mechanism (and his dad's too), and in a way how unfair it is to expect that he would see the need to defend me, or understand how all the negativity would negatively affect how I feel about myself and how he values me (or not).

All this important God-talk happened in a matter of 20 minutes, and after Susie and I said goodnight, I walked back into the meeting room to finish straightening up. A dear woman from church named Kathy was in there also putting things away--someone who is not a close friend but with whom I have shared many deep conversations over the years, and who knows our family well.  I shared with her the two significant things that God had just shown me, and she cried with me, and then, it felt like God whispered one more thing to me: that while I had come seeking insight about healing in my relationship with MIL, God desired instead to heal my marriage.  It hit me that maybe, just maybe, all this mess with MIL was what God was going to use to grow DH and I closer together, and closer to being the people He desires us to be.

When I got home from the retreat, I shared these revelations with DH (well, the first and last ones--I didn't tell him that I don't see him as my champion, but that I would trust he would grow into it.  But at whatever point he reads this post, I guess he'll know. ; )  He listened, and he agreed that it seemed like something God would say. So, from then on, I have tried to keep healthy and strong with those good expectations for my interactions with MIL, but I have also tried to defer to DH when possible, and have tried to not feel like I'm taking back on the burden of the relationship's health.

And I think God has been doing his Good work in us, subtly.  During the big discussion of Christmas Ruined Forever when we were in Chico for Thanksgiving, DH was very much an active part of the conversation with his mom, and at one point when she and I reached a stalemate, I looked over at him and asked, "Well, do you have any words of wisdom for us?"  And then he directed the conversation to the bigger picture.  The point is that we were having the conversation together with his mom, and that hopefully he felt respected by me during it. Those are little things, but its going to be a lot of little things like that, that slowly move us closer together.

Then after Thanksgiving, DH and I had to talk through all that happened, and process together. Because of all of the accusations directed at me personally for hijacking gift selection and giving, I asked DH to oversee the kids' wish list making, and also do all the correspondence with his mom about gifts.  So the last day when we were in Chico and MIL told the kids to write down what they wanted for Christmas, I purposefully stayed in the other room and did not go near the kids or the table so there could be no question of my interference. 

And then when his mom started emailing after we were home from Thanksgiving, continuing the talk about Christmas Ruined Forever, DH took over that correspondence.  He wrote his mom an email--but it was more than that, it was like his first Letter to her, the kind I have been occasionally writing to MIL when there seems to be need.  It took him three nights of writing--the first night until 3 am, the second night until 6 am, and then the third night until 3 am again. It was only a page long, but he is extremely thoughtful and purposeful when he writes, and writing does not come naturally to him, and so that piece of correspondence was clearly infused with his blood & sweat.  He did such a good job too, addressing MIL's feelings, but then directing the conversation to the bigger picture again.

So, it has been really good to feel like the big issues this Christmas season are not falling on me alone.  Is that selfish? I'm sure. But yet, it also feels right. I feel very badly for all that DH is bearing this year, and have tried to share in it as appropriate, and have still felt the emotional/psychological weight of it all too--but for once not the weight of responsibility. Still, it has been very hard for both of us, and last week the constant nights of too little sleep and too much stress overtook us, and things between us hit bottom.  It just all became too much. We couldn't even talk to each other, and were seeking solitary escapes.

At one point, I got really angry with my MIL, in my heart. Because all of her drama of Christmas Ruined Forever, and us trying to restore relationship, or at least not do anything blameworthy this Christmas, started to make me feel like we were in danger of ruining our Christmas.

But a few days ago DH and I started to come out from under it, and started seeking restoration of relationship, in our own little ways.  And then night before last we finally had a really good, very necessary talk about all this stuff and how it affects us, and it ended well. But the stress is very subtly rising, and it does not feel like we are strong enough to handle this well.  Even as I type now, the evening has not gone as planned, and DH and I are feeling ourselves moving slightly more apart again, just when we need to feel closest.

So, friends and loved ones--those of you who are still here and are thus part of my private therapy group ; )--I would so appreciate your prayers. Would you please pray for our hearts--for compassion for MIL and also for our unity as a married couple?  Would you please pray that we would be completely free from fear, and therefore be freed from making any decisions about our stay in Chico based upon fear? Would you please pray for the Holy Spirit to lead us and be manifest during our time with extended family? Would you please pray that we would all be able to let go of all these sins that so easily entangle us, and be free to fully celebrate Jesus, and our love for one another in His name? 

Thank you so much.

Thank you too for the kind comments some of you have left either to previous posts or in emails. I really do appreciate the feedback, even if I'm not taking the time to formulate responses at the moment, and if you have any words of wisdom for me as we head into this next week, I will be glad to read them.  Some of you have asked specific questions, and I'll try to respond to those later--if I get any more chances to blog!

Much love to you all!

Christmas From Then Til Now

It was really interesting, and not a little bit sad to go back and find the posts I have made on this blog over the years about our Christmases with DH's parents.  After that one fateful Christmas in 2004, we would be reminded every so often of our Rejection of The Gifts, etc. But it was 2009 when MIL first declared that Christmas had been officially Ruined Forever because of our past hurtful behavior (interestingly, at the 5 year anniversary mark of the fateful year). And since then basically the holidays are a hard time for MIL, and therefore for the rest of us too.

Don't get me wrong--we have had good times at Christmas too. Often MIL would bring up the past hurts right before Christmas, and then I would ask her if we could defer the conversation until after Christmas, and she would, and we would have a nice holiday together (not without tension, but without major conflict).  Then we would never really talk about it again until she brought it up again at the next Christmas. One year I wrote letters to her in response, which I hoped would help us work through it--and actually, that turned out to be a fine year, at least according to my record in this blog. ; )  I re-read just now that a lot of you were praying for us too--thank you so much, and anyone who feels led to pray again this year please do!

When I started writing this post, I think it was good for me to remember that, and to go back and read this post which I originally wrote in response to MIL's first declaration of Christmas Ruined Forever.  The way things are going so far this year, it is good to remember what is true even now.

Some Truth:

--We have never purposefully tried to make MIL mad or hurt.

--MIL is going to feel the way she is going to feel, and we are ultimately not responsible for that.

--It is wrong for things to be more important than people.  MIL would completely agree with this, and argue that when we rejected her gifts and therefore rejected her, we were making things more important than her. There is some truth to this, for which I am sorry. But now we have the ongoing problem of those past things and now every year's new things adding to the burden of resentment--because it seems that every Christmas gift MIL gives us is tainted in her mind by how we have rejected her in the past, and how we don't deserve any gifts from her in the future. (That last is true too--DH and I don't deserve gifts from her, and at this point I really wish she would not get us any.)

--We are responsible for our actions being unloving and unwise that one Fateful Christmas. We did probably ruin that particular Christmas for MIL, by our misunderstandings, ignorance, naivety, and selfishness. OK, so we were jerks. But we didn't do it on purpose.  It was all on accident.

--MIL is responsible for her decision to hold onto the bad feelings and not forgive us. In fact, who is more responsible at this point for ten years worth of ruined Christmases?  We acted that first year accidentally, without intent to harm. MIL has acted the past 9 years purposefully, seemingly with intent to harm.

--The only thing we can do at this point to make things right is apologize. Again.  There is nothing else we can do.
 
.   .   .   .   .   .   .

So, a few weeks back, while we were in Chico for Thanksgiving, I'm the one who accidentally opened the big old can of worms. It was really funny to look back and realize I had inadvertently asked for it. Because it was the night before our last day there, and we had not finalized our Christmas plans with them, so I urged DH to initiate conversation with his parents about when we would be coming up to visit for Christmas, etc. We thought it would be loving, to show them we were looking forward to being with them again, and for that special holiday. But somehow, a few minutes into the conversation, MIL turned the conversation towards gift giving, and then announced again that buying presents is torture for her because of our past rejections, so I should just put the items we want into an amazon cart and she would pay for them.

Startled, I immediately said, "Um, no, I'm not going to do that."
MIL countered, "Why not?"
I said, "Well, that didn't turn out well last year."
MIL challenged, "What do you mean?"
And then DH and I just looked at each other helplessly, me thinking, "Is she really wanting to go there?!"

I'm not sure I mentioned this before. But see, last year before Christmas MIL asked for wish lists, but she was going to be visiting her daughter in CO and so didn't have much time to shop. So she told me to just look for things on amazon.com.  I had the idea of setting up a Christmas wish list there, so that MIL could do her "shopping" from CO at her leisure and have the presents sent directly to our house.  But instead what happened was this: I put too many things on the list, trying to give MIL options she could choose from for the kids, but then I think MIL thought I was being greedy, and then she bought almost all of the things!  Also, she and I were emailing back and forth talking about the gifts and I thought this was a positive thing--that we were communicating well, and shopping "together," even if virtually. But then when the lists were made, MIL abruptly said she didn't have time for looking through the list and since it was so sad for her to buy presents for us because of The Year We Forever Ruined Christmas, she just wanted me to put the things into her amazon cart and she would pay for them.  Ugh!  No, I could not do it!  It was like MIL forcing me to treat her like the cash cow she was accusing us of treating her as. As if all I want MIL for is stuff, and this is how we would prove it.  Uh-uh!  But then I was in the horribly awkward position of either telling her a) we don't need any of this stuff anyway, and I only made this list because you asked me to--which of course sounds completely ungrateful and would wound her even more, since she really wants to be appreciated; OR b) say something affirming and appreciative and put aside my own wounded pride at being wrongfully accused of being greedy and using MIL to get what we want.  I tried to do the latter, of course.

But overall that attempt at MIL and I bridging the gift gap with a shared online wish list--disaster. So when she told me this past Thanksgiving to just do that again--did she really think that worked out well the year before, after the negative things she had said to me in emails about how much it hurt her? Had she forgotten the things she said?  So instead of directly answering, we just tried to turn the conversation to positive directions about our gift giving in general, and options for this Christmas specifically.

But all our efforts really didn't work. When we suggested the kids make wish lists for "Oma" instead, like they have before, MIL said that didn't work because I oppress my children so they don't know how to think for themselves or are too afraid to say what they really think/want. Also, she believes that in past years I masterminded the lists so that the children only asked for the things I allowed them to ask for, and not what they really wanted. (I'm pretty sure she is remembering the year two of the girls asked Oma for undershirts for Christmas. Their idea, not mine! But she never will believe me. ; )

Oh, and she is right, by the way--Oma's no dummy. And neither am I.  Of course I always help shape the kids' wish lists to Oma.  Because of course otherwise they put things on their lists like "a puppy" and "a big cozy chair just for me" (oh yes--both of these were suggestions for Christmas wish lists in years past ; ) or other things that are inappropriate, but which Oma and Opa might be tempted to get them anyway. Or not get, but then give DH and I grief about--because we are such bad parents and are breaking our kids' hearts because we live in such a tiny dump and we can't provide for our kids the things they "need" like their very own cozy chair!

(You think I'm exaggerating. But no, this is the kind of grief we get a lot. For example, since last January we've heard how we have broken our kids' hearts because they don't have beds of their own yet. No, we haven't done more on the bed project. No, I'm pretty sure our kids are not heartbroken over it.)

So, guiding the creation of gift wish lists in the past is something I openly confess to doing. But of course I always make sure the things that end up on the list are things the kids really do want, that were their own ideas.

But back to that night's conversation. If MIL did not like the kids making wish lists because she felt I was orchestrating them, I suggested she just talk directly to the kids and ask them what they wanted. But then she argued that that wouldn't work because they never say what they really want. In fact, when MIL asks the kids what they want, the first thing they do is look at me, and that annoys her to no end. She thinks they are afraid of saying what they want in front of me, or are so oppressed by their mother that they don't know how to speak their own thoughts openly.

Really, the truth is this: my kids think I give them good gifts.  Which just means like every mom I listen to the things they say they want throughout the year, and then I try to make those things happen. I also know my kids well, and so usually guess well at what they will like.  Merry said the sweetest thing to me just the other day--she said, "Mommy, you always give me the perfect gifts!  It's like I didn't even know they were exactly what I wanted until I open them!" : )  (I'm pretty sure I've also mentioned that my kids are the best gift receivers ever--so easy to please!) So when my children look at me when Oma asks them for their ideas, they do so because they know I'll help them come up with good ideas.  It's a good thing, not a bad thing.

Ok, that's enough about the wish lists. I told you all that for two reasons:

1) it was the perfect example of how I am "damned if I do" help Oma come up with good gifts for the kids, and "damned if I don't."  I really cannot win, and there is nothing I can do to make MIL happy with me.  It's like I exist only to be the bad guy--the one who is keeping the kids from getting what they want, or keeping MIL from enjoying giving gifts, or making the process of gift selection unpleasant or difficult, etc. So my urge is to remove myself from the conversation entirely.

2) it's a good example of how MIL will choose to take good things and twist them around so that they are bad.

And the whole, painful, over an hour-long conversation just went downhill from there.

But here's the gist:

I did not comport myself ideally, such as when MIL accused me of all kinds of things over and over, and I got pretty indignant and was raising my voice telling her she may not call me a liar and say untrue things about me, and she told me I could not tell her what to do, and not to shout at her. I wasn't shouting--but I was not putting up with any crap at that moment either. That was the weak point in the "discussion" on my part, when I was letting go of my cool--not angry, just passionate. But still not collected. But overall I tried to be gracious but was firm in reminding her that we are not responsible for her feelings, and Christmas is not about us. It's about Jesus, not us!  We can't ruin Christmas because it is not about us! And I asked for her forgiveness one last time. She rejected it, and so I asked her why she wants to stay mad at me. She was uncomfortable with that and then turned the conversation to attack DH about some way that he was failing his kids (probably the beds again, since after all that's all they really want and we can't even provide that for them, hence the breaking of little hearts). After a brief defense of DH, just to remind her of some more truths in that area, I excused myself to bed, because I could see the conversation was going nowhere productive or helpful.

But here's possibly the most significant part of the whole thing: before I went upstairs, I went to FIL who had been sitting nearby listening for most of this whole discussion.  I told him that I was truly sorry for the misunderstandings of the past and whatever hurt we have caused and we really do care about their feelings and trust we can resolve it all together at some point. He thanked me, and said he thought some of the things said tonight were long needing said, and some good may come out of it.

It hit me a few minutes later, as I was upstairs thinking through all that had just occurred while I got ready for bed: this was possibly the first time FIL had ever witnessed this kind of dialogue between MIL and me, where I am taking a firm stance against some things but trying to seek restoration of relationship overall.  I keep forgetting that he might know nothing of the things I have said to Rita over the years about all this conflict, either in conversations or in letter, so perhaps he thinks this is my first time apologizing. And he thinks that apology is long overdue. (oh, how my pride rears angrily at that thought--sigh.) Or maybe he was just affirming that we need to talk this out so we can work it out--again, because perhaps he does not realize MIL and I have been talking about it for years. Or maybe he even agreed with some of the things I said to Rita, about honoring God with our relationship, forgiveness, etc. (again, things I've said to her but maybe he has never heard). But whatever--at least I believe at this point in time that FIL understands my intentions.

And maybe him & DH overhearing most of our discussion was good, for reasons I don't even know. Such as accountability--maybe FIL can help MIL process some of this now, or help urge her to forgive.  And DH really took a lead role in the discussion too, which might bode well for the future. I don't know.

I do think the conversation needed to happen, and so am overall glad it did. Even if nothing new was said, it is good to address all these feelings and thoughts before we head into the Christmas and more gift-giving together. Also, I am going to be hopeful that MIL is starting to experience some healing, and this might even be part of it. Because MIL was oddly much more calm even when angry this time than she usually is when we talk about such things.  That and the discussion had ebb and flow, instead of just being a furious tirade.  

DH and his mom argued and discussed for a while longer, and I lay in bed upstairs hearing the rise and fall of their voices. The next day was Sunday, so lots to do with getting ready for church, and then having lunch, and then packing up the car to leave (which is mostly my job--one I have always willingly taken on since the last day is usually when negative hits most, so its nice to be elsewhere and busy in a way MIL approves of). So we managed to get through the day without a return to negativity, but it was clearly hanging over us.

I forgot to mention that Thanksgiving day, the day we arrived, was a pleasure. MIL was so gracious, so generous, so fun. She welcomed my help in the kitchen and was not at all irritable at me not doing things just right.  So it was a shame that things had to end poorly--and yet, that is usually the pattern of when we visit them.  This particular visit just had extremes--an extremely good Thanksgiving day, and an extremely noteworthy confrontation, and then an extremely uncomfortable last day.  I wish it was easier for me all to focus on the extremely good!

Christmas, Ruined--Continued.

So.

I didn't mention one other gift MIL gave me that same fateful Christmas ten years ago. I didn't list it in my previous post as one of the Three Rejections because it was not brought up and held over our heads during the Big Heated Discussion of Christmas Rejections Past we had while in Chico for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago.  But as it made the Catalog of Unforgivable Offenses for several years, it is still worth mentioning.

It's a tragic story. I'll make it brief.

Sometime before Christmas MIL took me shopping in Chico to look for presents for the kids. She took me to a cute little store downtown that has all kinds of fun things for kids--a lot of well made, quality toys. A nice store, if a little expensive.  While we were looking around, I saw a little lap harp, which made me remark off-hand to MIL that someday I'd love to have a hammered dulcimer.  Now, that is truly a desire of my heart, but yet not something that will likely ever be--hammered dulcimers take up a lot of floor space, and they are notoriously difficult to keep in tune, esp. in moist environments (and there are a lot of strings to tune, so maintenance would be no small deal).  And they are very expensive. And I won't have time to learn a new instrument until the kids are out of the house, at the soonest. So, it was a remark made just to be sociable, with no other intent.

Well.

On that Christmas day, as we were opening gifts amid the chaos, MIL handed me a black soft case, that clearly had a musical instrument inside. But the shape left me puzzled--what could MIL be giving me?

And I opened a lovely wooden stringed instrument. But after making some positive oohs of admiration, I had to ask, "What is it?"  And MIL said, with a note of why-are-you-asking-me in her voice, "A dulcimer."  I must have had a dawning look of recognition on my face, because then MIL clarified and added, "You said you had always wanted a dulcimer."  And immediately my heart sank, because there was no way I could go back in time and change the way I had received the gift and show her the enthusiasm she rightly deserved for trying to give me what she thought was the secret desire of my heart.

Turns out, there is more than one kind of dulcimer:

The one pictured on the bottom there is a small hammered dulcimer. (They can be as large as a small desk.)  The one on the top there is a mountain dulcimer, and looks exactly like the one MIL gave me that Christmas.

Oh, how sweet of MIL to hear my spoken wish and then go to real effort to try to make that wish come true. Seriously--that mountain dulcimer was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift I think I have ever received, and certainly so from my MIL.

But. (Of course you knew there had to be a but!)

I know my confusion when I was opening it confused and hurt MIL--she thought I would be delighted, and I am sure that was a let-down.  She had really outdone herself with extravagant gifts that year: the dulcimer, the white gold earrings, the black leather jacket for DH.  She was really trying hard, and here clearly the dulcimer had been wrong somehow and so had been the jacket. . . Sigh. I really feel for MIL when I look back.  (And then the rejection of the dolls a few days later, and then the rejection of the earrings some months later. . . Sigh.)

I am being totally honest here, admitting completely the things DH and I did wrong. Mostly I did wrong.  But also in all honesty, we didn't mean to be so horribly self-focused and picky.  It was like one bad misunderstanding after another, and it all contributed to poor MIL's feelings of Rejection.

Her little Christmas heart was broken.

Over the years since, I have mentally walked back through it all, over and over, thinking about all the things we could/should have said or done differently. If only we had known. If only we had realized.

But one thing I  have decided is that there are some Very Good Things that do NOT make Very Good Gifts.  A safe bet when trying to figure out if something is a good gift is to think, "Would I like someone to give something like this to me in this way?" For example, I think we all agree it is not particularly wise or thoughtful to buy any expensive clothing item for someone else, unless it is accompanied by a gift receipt.  Everyone has different tastes, and no one likes to get clothing they don't like but then feel badly about not wanting to keep.

[Mother, I apologize right now for the striped velour turtleneck top and pants set I bought you for Christmas the year Sunny was born. I was feeling rushed and likely still impaired by birth hormones. Not only was the outfit too big, but it was not your style--even though I still say you could have rocked it. You very politely expressed your concerns as you modeled it for me, and I tried to be enthusiastic about how it would work fine--when instead I should have suggested we take it back and go looking together for something you liked better. Thank you for never holding it against me, and I hope I put the receipt in the bag. ; )  But I learned my lesson well, and have never bought anyone in my extended family clothes again.]

So expensive leather jackets definitely fall into the category of Very Good Things but not in the category of Very Good Gifts, unless you let the person pick it out themselves.  And I've decided the same is true of musical instruments, unless the person has specifically asked for it.  Yes, the gift was very sweet and thoughtful--that is definitely true.  But then MIL persisted in asking every time we saw each other whether or not I had learned how to play it yet.  Um, I was the mother of two young children, with a baby on the way. I really did not have time to learn to play an instrument. So the dulcimer had been tucked out of harms way in my closet, and was waiting for the someday when I would. But MIL took that as a sign of rejection too. After all, why wouldn't I be learning to play it if it was a Good Gift?  For years after she would bring it up, and express her hurt over how I didn't like the instrument, and I would very emphatically tell her I DID like the instrument very much, and that it was one of the sweetest gifts I have every received. Both true!  But she could not believe me because I was not learning how to play it in all my spare time.

But, this one Gift I think has a happy ending. Because when Merry was old enough to learn an instrument, I saw a mountain dulcimer up on Sunny's guitar teacher's shelf, and asked if she knew how to play it and would she be willing to teach little Merry.  The teacher graciously complied, and so Merry took one year of dulcimer lessons. Just enough to learn how to play "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" at the winter recital:

I think MIL finally saw the instrument being used and enjoyed, and so has let that initial disappointment and the subsequent feelings of rejection go.

But I still say that the unfortunate misunderstanding about the hammered dulcimer vs the mountain dulcimer contributed to MIL's feelings about being so thoroughly rejected that particular Christmas.  So I thought I would tell you this story too, so you would understand how so many horrible coincidences and misunderstandings and mistakes worked together to create such a Christmas from which MIL has never been able to recover.

When I look at this photo, which I just discovered while browsing our photo files to determine the exact year of The Fateful Christmas--2004, exactly ten years ago--I don't see any malice in those faces. I just see two very young people who can't imagine the consequences of their ignorance and poor judgement.

(Isn't it a cute photo though? FIL, DH's sister Auntie N, Sunny's foot there kicking up, me, DH, all down at Great-Grandmas.)

Sigh.

To be continued. 

The Year We Ruined Christmas Forever

Ok, so I was planning on blogging about blessings, starting after Thanksgiving. I am still going to do that, but I think it will have to be pushed back until after Christmas. There's something else that has been weighing on me since Thanksgiving--well, actually it has been a Christmas specter for years now, rising up and looming grimly over us like the Ghost of Christmas That Should Never Have Been.  But this year it is all coming to a climax--here's hoping (and praying) that it will all come to good purpose. And that me blogging about it will help release me from the tyranny of the bad feelings--anger, sadness, guilt, resentment.

It all started I think ten years ago, about when Sunny was 4 and Merry 2. I can't remember if we had Happy yet or if she was a lovely little bun in the proverbial oven. Or if its been really 11 years. (Doesn't matter exactly--ten years--oh, the ridiculousness of me having to tell this story ten years later. Ten years of bitterness & bad feelings harbored, fed. Sigh.)

By the way, I don't mean to be melodramatic. I'm just tired, and stressed. Words flow, and I don't feel like couching them here. I mean, I can only think of a few people who will read this, and none of you will judge me for my wording, and I'd like to express myself and feel safe--I think I need such an outlet this week. And I think I may have relayed some of this story before--but I don't think I have ever explained the whole thing. Today I'd like to take the time to write it all out, because I need to process this and I know the writing will help.

So that fateful Christmas ten years (or so) ago, we went to DH's folks' house as usual. It seemed like a normal Christmas, just a little overwhelming. Now that I think about it, it was likely our first Christmas in this teeny little house, which is a worthwhile factor to consider as you hear this story. Christmas morning we were opening gifts with Oma and Opa--what the kids call DH's parents--and all was going fine. But the way they open gifts everyone does it at once, so it can be a little chaotic and you don't really have a chance to chat about gifts as they are opened. Which is also a factor to this story.  And amidst the clutter and chaos, Three Fateful Gifts were given.

The first Gift was a very thoughtful and generous one; MIL had bought me a pair of small white gold hoop earrings. Very thoughtful of her because she recognized that I prefer white gold over yellow. Other than that, there was no conversation about them, no indication of their true worth in the mind of the giver.  I gave warm and genuine thanks to MIL for the gift.

The second Gift was a little less thoughtful, but still generous; MIL and FIL had picked out a black leather jacket for DH. Now, that is also a nice gift.  But. . . here's where I confess that DH and I were not wise and we were ungracious. We both looked at that jacket, and wished they weren't giving it to us. It was a jacket style that would have looked much better on our dads than on DH.  We didn't need the jacket.  We had just moved into a teeny tiny house and we didn't want one. more. thing. to have to squeeze in, let alone something we didn't like.  So when MIL saw our lack of the proper enthusiasm, she very graciously told DH that she could take it back to the store if he didn't like it.  So, after trying it on and thinking for a few days--and me pressuring DH to take his mom at her word and not take home something we didn't want that would take up a lot of closet space--DH told her that he decided not to keep it.

Later of course we realized a) she didn't mean what she had said about returning it, b) she did not return it, and c) she was really, really mad and hurt that we did not take it.  I think they still have the jacket and now FIL wears it. Which would be appropriate, and would not even have to be a negative thing--after all, they bought it because they liked it, right?--except that it is a negative thing because it is a symbol of our rejection of their attempt to show us love.

The third gift--well, first of all, MIL and I have a little disagreement going on whether or not it was a gift to begin with. But MIL says it was, and that's what's important to this narrative, so let's run with that. So the third gift was--ok, I guess I'm not exactly sure exactly what the gift was, so let me just try to explain. At some point before opening gifts on Christmas Day, a red wagon full of dolls was moved next to the Christmas tree.  I admit to some trepidation when I saw that wagon, because that was a lot of dolls, and I did have a fear that they were all supposed to go home with us. But most of the dolls appeared to be dolls MIL had bought at garage sales, the kinds of toys she would routinely buy and then either keep at their house for the grandkids or would try to send home with us. But not the kind of thing she would usually give to one of the kids as a Christmas present. There was one clearly new doll among the bunch though, a nice, albeit large, baby doll.  MIL has dolls and toys throughout the entire house as decorations, but esp. in the living room and under/around the Christmas tree. So a wagon full of dolls might just be decor, or toys they placed in the living room for the kids to play with while we were visiting there.

At no point in the chaotic gift-giving did either I or DH observe MIL giving any of the dolls to the two little girls as Christmas presents.  In fact, I distinctly remember the gift-giving being over and us leaving the room to go finish dinner preparations, and the wagon still sitting there untouched and me thinking, "Well, I guess it is just decoration then."  I am sure the girls played with the dolls at some point of our stay, but I don't really remember anything notable about that.

When it was time to load up all the Christmas gifts, DH and I were really sweating about how much we had to cram in the car, and when MIL wanted to buy us that car top carrier, I remember thinking, "Lady, if it all doesn't fit in the car, what makes you think it all will fit it into the house?!"  In fact, the main reason we did not take them up on the car carrier was because we were worried it would end up being a psychological thing of encouraging even MORE (or bigger!) stuff always being sent home with us every Christmas.  

But then when it was time to leave, and we were almost entirely all packed (to the gills), MIL said, "Aren't you going to take the dolls?"  That was so awkward, because we didn't want to be rude, but of course we were not entirely sure what she was trying to tell us to take. Then it comes out that she intended the dolls--I guess all of them!--to be for the girls. Since the car was jam packed (and since we still didn't know if the dolls were a Christmas gift or just a "here's something fun Oma wants you to have" deal), I suggested we could leave them in Chico for now and the girls could play with them when they visited. But MIL argued that they were for the girls and so we had to at least take one. So I said, sure, why don't we let Sunny pick out one doll. (This is what makes me wonder if Merry was only 18 months--and so this was 11 years ago--or why wouldn't she have been told to pick one out too. . . ? )  And then to I think both our surprise, Sunny did not pick the clearly brand new big Costco baby doll with the cute matching outfit--she picked a very pre-loved garage sale doll, complete with one cloudy eye.  Both MIL and I asked her if she was sure that was the one she wanted to take home, and she said yes. ; )  So, that's the doll that came home with us. (The rest of the dolls have lived since then up in Chico, where they are well enjoyed when we visit. And at some point I snuck the doll she had picked back up to Chico and quietly returned it to the collection, because Sunny did not really play with it.)

So.

Three Fateful Gifts.

The dolls, which we rejected.

The dad jacket, which we rejected.

And then the earrings.  I think this last was the gift that broke the camels back. Because they were post back, which I really don't like to wear, and they were really nothing special looking--just nice plain and modern-looking little hoops on a hinged post.  Nice little earrings!  But not something I ever thought I would wear. And the one time I wore them I really pinched by ear lobe trying to close them. And the style of them is such that the day I did wear them I was totally paranoid that they would be really easy to lose--if one comes unhinged, then the weight from the front would totally pull it out of my ear and it would be lost in seconds. The thought of losing one made me panic, and I didn't want responsibility for that very possible event.  I knew I would probably never wear them again.

I did think about keeping them for my girls someday.  They were small and I have plenty of storage space for one little pair of earrings.

But.  I kinda rebelled. I was overwhelmed with the amount of stuff we had just brought into our house and could not bear the thought of even one more little thing that I had to keep that I didn't want. I was also not a little resentful of how trapped we were feeling by the amount of stuff being given to us, and how we had to keep it because it was given to us for the children. Something in me snapped, and I thought, "I can give this one thing away, because it belongs to me."  But of course I would not be so disrespectful of the gift's value (or of the giver's feelings) to give them away to just anyone--that would be entirely inappropriate!  No, instead I sent them to my little sister to wear in her wedding. She likes white gold too, and the style of the earrings was totally her.  It made me happy to think about her wearing them, and I felt psychological release from the tyranny of Having To Keep Things.

But I fully admit it--it was passive aggressive and neither wise nor loving.  I think I did it as a kind of desperate psychological stand against what feels like a serious oppression, which DH and I have never known what to do about. We feel so helpless when it comes to limiting what comes into our house, in terms of his parents.

I could write volumes about this.  It was not a problem until we had kids & moved to CA. Since then it has felt like a huge problem. I have bins of things under the house we don't want or need but we have to hold on to because they were given to us by DH's parents. BINS. We have overflowing shelves and closets, and no where to put things, and the kids don't play with half of it, and we would be so much happier without it, but we have to keep it because they gave it to us. God's been teaching me over the years to be content in plenty--but I'm also trying to be a good steward of our home, our time, etc. We also really don't want to be ungrateful people, and try to appreciate whatever people give us--but how can we appreciate something that overall has a negative impact on our home? Our marriage?  How can we be legitimately submitting our family values to MIL's desires, chronically?  It just does not seem wise or healthy. But what can we do about it?  We really do want to show MIL and FIL love and appreciation. . . but the burden of their giving feels like shackles to me. . .

I know, I know. I sound all melodramatic. And really, there is SO much more I could write about the Stuff Angst. I'll spare whoever of you are reading this already too long tale.

Well. I don't know how long later MIL did ask about the earrings, and I told her the truth. And she was upset.  I thought they were probably a very sweet impulse buy at Costco, but even if they were, it turns out MIL assigned them a whole LOT of significance, and intended them to represent our relationship, because in countries like Saudi Arabia and India gold jewelry is the only thing a woman truly owns, and it is like insurance against the future.  So for a Mother-in-Law to give gold jewelry to her DIL is a good thing. I don't really understand all that MIL feels it signifies, but I really do appreciate that she had thought and meaning behind her gift.  That she thought she was doing something special.

Oh, why didn't she just tell me what they meant when she gave them to me at Christmas?!  She intended them to be heirlooms--yes, she has said as much, repeatedly--and there I go being so callous. So hurtful.

Yes, I think maybe a little part of me wanted to hurt her. No, that's not right. I have never purposefully wanted to hurt her. But I think I didn't care if she was hurt (see? passive-aggressive) by my giving them away. I was not doing it to hurt her, and I didn't want her to be hurt, but if she was hurt by my choice, oh well.

I do feel badly that MIL (and likely FIL by proxy) felt rejected--for me giving away the earrings, for Doug not liking the jacket, for us not eagerly taking all the dolls.

The dolls was a completely misunderstanding. If we had known the dolls were an official Xmas present we never would have left them behind (or would have made it clear it was only until we could have room for them on the next trip).

The jacket was more intentional on our parts, but still a misunderstanding--If we had known MIL would not return the jacket and would be so mad and hurt, of course we would have taken it and given the appropriate thanks and DH would have pulled it out when they were visiting like we all do with such gifts to show love to the giver.

The earrings were my own rebellion. But still, based upon misunderstanding--if I had known the significance MIL attributed to them I would have kept them.

Sigh.

Ok, it's taken me all day to write this, in little snippets. It's just the beginning of the story, and its not a pleasant story, so its ok if you don't continue to read it, whoever has gotten this far.  It's a very painful story, and one that has gone on and on and on, and which feels like it has come to a head this year.

So, I'm going to try to write more about this later. I just had to get the specifics of the background down, so everything else will be clearer later on.

Giving Thanks--for Dear Friends

This is a greatly overdue post--but yet the perfect time to finally share it. : )

In October my dear Susan and her two girls came out to visit us!  Susan has visited us before, but this was the first time the girls came too. And I am SO glad they did.  Their visit truly was the highlight of the Fall:

Tiny house + huge bag of pebbles for a landscaping project in the works = perfect under layer for the tent in the front driveway.  DH and our kids slept out in the tent all but the last night, leaving the beds in the house for me & Susan and her girls. The last night all the girls slept out in the tent together (Smiley came back to his own bed for the night).  Everyone out in the tent said it was fine sleeping. The only issue was the roadwork that was being done out in front of our house throughout their visit, which resulted in steel plates on the road--which were LOUD when driven over.  But still, everyone was rested enough that week, to have a good time. And our kids liked it so much they asked if they could sleep in the tent even after our friends left.  And they did, for over a week. So, clearly the accommodations were fine. : )

I think this photo is one of my favorites. This was only the first or second morning.  The girls pretty much immediately loved one another. Seeing them play and hang out so happily together all the visit really made me happy.  At one point they even announced that they were more like cousins than friends. : )  Which of course is perfect, since Susan is like a sister to me!

I actually don't have any photos of most of the time we spent together, because it involved the kids all running away down the creek behind our house, exploring and together finding and creating a special area/fort they named "Gentrock" (which is a combination of both families' last names). They even made a flag for it. : )

Meanwhile, Susan and I got to escape just enough, to sit overlooking the ocean and discuss raising teens, or have lunch. Or cook lunch together. Just doing the girlfriend things I love to do, and getting a chance to talk about all manner of things that were important to us. 

So, the kinds of things we did most of the time I couldn't take pictures of--but am storing up in my heart. : )  

But we did do a few official outings. We went to see wild sea lions and sea otters at Moss Landing State Beach. And in these photos we visited the redwoods at Henry Cowell State Park. Not that they weren't playing under redwoods all day at our house. . . but nature hikes are always fun!

Everyone squeezing into the car for a moment while we drove from one car to the next. (Funny--I never realized until this moment that the inside of my car is white!)

Another fun thing the girls (and sometimes a grownup) did throughout the visit--string games. : )

And on their last night, we had to visit the Boardwalk!  

I love carousels.  This one is special not only for being in the movie The Lost Boys (as are other parts of the Boardwalk), but also because it has a thing that you can pull rings from as you go around (if you are sitting on an outside horse and can reach, that is). . . 

. . . which you then try to throw into the mouth of that scary clown on the wall. 

And Susan got it in his mouth the very first time around!  (It's much harder to do than it sounds, and usually the bells that herald success only go off once a ride.)  

Susan, this is you right before you threw!

Ah, I love this smile of victory!

J, if you look carefully (and double-click on the photo to enlarge it) you can see yourself swinging out on the left there. : )

Merry and L

The final day--photos and goodbyes. : (  But I think the smiles in this first photo sum up the week pretty well. 

The two biggest girls.  

The two youngest girls. 

Hugs all around. 

Susan & Me. 

We love you and miss you!