Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Never Go Home Again

It's true. At least for me, it's true--once you're out, you can never go home again.

I loved seeing my family. I especially loved hanging out with my nieces and nephews. They might be some of the coolest, cutest people on the face of this earth.

But I found myself pretty much unable to just roll with the things I would have rolled with before.

The fact I have not seen my brother in forever, and he decided that his time was better spent going camping for the limited amount of time I was? Not cool. I told him so too, and I told my family at large so, which created shock and awe, and not in a good way.

The fact that once my parents learned my brother would be gone while I was here, so they tried to get me to come up a week earlier? Never mind that I have a really job that I worked for, and work at. He was getting inducted into the high school hall fame!!! That's a big deal, Grace, why can't you be here? Um.

Then there was my sister. She was snotty while shopping for a bathing suit with me, and a raging--I hate to say it, but it is true--a raging bitch to my mother. My mother ran out of the pool and into the house crying. I wanted to dunk my sister in the deep end. I don't know when she became such a snotty bitch, but it happened. (Sorry, sorry for profanity, but... not buts. It's true)

I can't even type the story without getting mad, so I'm not going to go there right now. Later, when I figure out how to try and deal with this, I will, and I will turn to you, O Wise Internet, Whose Feelings Are Not Currently Hurt Like Mine Are. I realize this is a long title for you, but you have to take what you can get.

I get so tired of defending my family. I love them fiercely, but they can do some very strange and mean things. They--we--are hotheaded, competitive, and have a propensity for arguing. But we're also loyal and protective, which is why this little vacation of mine was so painful in some ways. I don't like having to protect my parents against my siblings, especially ones that are so much older than me. I don't like having to defend my parent's boneheaded moves to my siblings and my husband.

Can't they all see how easy it is to understand what the other person meant? My Dad is sarcastic. Take it as a joke, because that is undoubtedly the way he meant it. My Mom does not have a mean or unsympathetic bone in her body, so either a) she had no idea she was offending you or b) she was so embarrassed about what she did she could not even apologize. My brother, while abrasive, means well and wants everyone to be happy and health. My sister... I'll reflect on that.

When did Prada, my oldest niece, get to be almost 18 and becoming a senior in high school? When did Scout, my oldest nephew, get that really deep voice? Jeter, the next nephew, has suddenly become more mature--a teenager, and not one of the little kids anymore. Jedi, the next nephew, grew so much. Then there was Blossom--I swear she grew a foot too, and she was much quieter. Brick, the last nephew--his stuttering is gone, and his attitude is great. Petunia hit the terrible threes with angelic grace, and is much taller than before. I don't understand.

I used to be able to go home and slide back into the routine of things--the peacemaker, the one who got other people to understand or at least talk.

I can't slide back in anymore.

No comments: