My apartment could be nigh perfect and my mother would still run her finger over my fan to pick the dust off and show me her dirty finger
Ha! If my mom or dad ever did that to me (and they never would) I would've just laughed at them said, "I guess you fucked up."
This weekend our house needs a thorough clean. I can usually mop one room between my AM swim and getting to work. But it means the floors are never all clean at the same time. It would also help if the fucking dog would stop shedding.
My problem, currently, is I have different levels of clean. There are Grace-related health care items that I routine clean daily. Even when she skips a bath, her medical stuff gets cleaned.
Then there are things I can't stand dirty anymore. Usually floors, windows and mirrors.
But the floor in my bedroom? Hasn't been mopped in an age and the dust has blow in on all the windowsills.
It's too overwhelming to contemplate.
The pie turned out pretty well. My sister made me sob until I was sick . And then there was pie, and another headache.
I just don't understand how she can have any awe left for me, any of the "but that's my BIG sister" where I see myself as "the one they have to help when she breaks". Aside from "the one who can't" that's the only hat I wear.
Because you are still functioning at all in the face of everything. I'm fucking awed at you, and I'm not related.
Dude. ita. You made a low-glycemic pie on a weeknight. You are amazing!
One of the reasons I have so much trouble talking about my childhood in therapy is that I start asking myself, "If it really was that bad, then how did I actually get through it all?"
Well, two things. People get through all kinds of shit. (As we see just on this board!) And it's because they are strong people and figured out how to get through it, with whatever coping mechanisms were necessary.