Gluten Madness

 Whelp Debbie called me last night to thank me kindly for hosting Kathy; she returned raving about her wonderful stay in Bristol! It’s nice to feel appreciated…

Our ride manager for next weekend’s long-awaited Armadillo event solved my dilemma (who to ride?) by roping me in to work - one of her veterinarians canceled “she’s ever so sorry but I’m needed”. Another case of nice to be indispensable, BUT…

I’d better luxuriate in my memories of two good rides last week - as I hope against hope that next season will be better!

This is Bobbie’s good Medicine Hat Paint, Captain. I hope I can be like Bobbie  when I am 70-something years old,  still hauling to rides!

My photos from my quick shopping trip Sunday afternoon with Zach aren’t downloading - we made a quick run to the mall and went to the Italian store which we both dearly love. Unfortunately, pasta doesn’t love me anymore and I think low-grade indigestion is what contributed to a miserable poor night’s sleep for me Sunday night. Last night I threw everything but the kitchen sink in the form of supplements down my throat and did much better - I was still awake at 2 AM but I did manage to go back to sleep.

In other news, my mom fell while I was talking to her on the phone yesterday - a heart-stopping event! I don’t think she’s badly hurt,  just stiff and sore and bruised up - I’m getting ready to make my morning check in call . I took her some stronger pain medicine last night and got her tucked into bed.

Consent

 I love that old Ann Landers quote: “No one can take advantage of you without your consent!” Of course that is, for the most part, entirely true - but for those of us who were raised up to be consummate people pleasers, it can be a little more difficult.

If nothing else, I can say I have an eclectic assortment of friends, most of whom are not consciously trying to take advantage of me! But when my friend Debbie texted me last week to ask if I could host a friend of hers (coming up to DFW from the coast to adopt a puppy so hey, that’s Val’s sphere of influence!), it left me scratching my head. I told her we didn’t have a guest BR anymore (which is the truth since P’s been sleeping upstairs) but she would be welcome to sleep in the living quarters of my horse trailer…

So I did a quick-clean of my trailer, trying to make it look like a tiny AirBnB, and Kathy arrived with her horse in tow Friday night. (Karen & I already had plans to ride Saturday so I told Kathy she was welcome to tag along) It all worked out well - Kathy was a low-maintenance guest, we had a nice ride Saturday afternoon, she gathered her puppy Sun morning and headed on back to Jamaica Beach.

(Hopefully I can snag some of my friends’ pictures later)

Then last night as I scrolled Twitter to distract myself from a heartbreaking Cowboy loss, I came across this profound thread - can I ever relate! I’ve felt as though I’ve tip-toed around, trying to be All Things to All People my entire life…

738 views

Dr. Nicole LePera

Follow @Theholisticpsyc

   

Oct 15 • 10 tweets • 2 min read

Being raised by emotionally immature parents sets us up for a lifetime of believing our role is to perform, achieve, or be responsible for other people’s emotions.

HERE’S WHY🧵: 

Emotionally immature parents (EIP) lack the ability to self reflect, understand their emotions, & tend to be solely focused on how things impact them.

Because of their low self worth, their children can become an extension of themselves. 

Their children’s accomplishments full their own emotional voids. Children learn to achieve or perform for their parents love and approval.

EIP also have a hard time with different opinions. They tend to be highly opinionated and disagreement is a threat. 

Their black & white thinking creates household beliefs that things are “good” or “bad” and there’s little room for self discovery— or any version of independence.

Everyone must feel and think the same things. 

Children learn their parent is emotionally reactive, defensive, or shut down. So, healthy communication isn’t taught within the home. 

This creates an environment where people walk on eggshells— living in fear of not saying or doing the “wrong” thing. 

At the same time, there is a lack of boundaries. Everyone is involved with everyone’s issues. Triangulation is common where siblings or different family members are pitted against each other.

Many EIP thrive off of being the “control” center of family drama. 

It’s the only way they know how to feel connection. 

Adult children of EIP can feel deeply confused. Their family feels “close,” but under the surface is a lack of safety, no boundaries, & no true emotional connection. 

They know that their parent won’t ask what they feel, what they think, or get to know them as a unique human being that they are.

Instead, they’re there to meet the emotional needs of a parent. 

They come to believe they are responsible for how people feel. 

Many adult children of EIP feel like their role is to “service” their parent: be at their home whenever asked, navigate their crisis or issues, confirm what good parents they are, or achieve to make the family “look” good to outsiders. 

Appearance is key for EIP— it’s more important to look good to others than it is to actually feel good.

Adult children learn to play the a role. And in the process they don’t develop a sense of self— just a false sense of self a parent approved of

One Fine Day

 (which I know is a duplicated title from an old post, but that’s OK - the shoe fitting, etc. etc.)

Yesterday WAS a fine day -the first day in I-don’t-know-when where I got to do what I wanted and needed to do instead of racing all over town like the proverbial chicken with her head cut off! I was surprised when Karen texted me Wednesday to ask me if I wanted to ride yesterday. (She’s always working) Her plans for a mini-family vacation were nuked: she had put in for this week off sometime back, but now her kiddos have scattered hither, thither, and yon.

A.) Oldest daughter M has set sail for MO to make a go of it with baby daddy after months of back-&-forth turmoil (she’s 20, baby daddy about the same age)

B.) I thought I posted about C (19) - her 4-month marriage has already disintegrated as she has moved in with her 41-yr old  boss. (Karen is scandalized & ashamed “I didn’t raise her to be like this”)

C.) 18 yr old son T has left for OK to reunite with birth parents, not much news from him

D.) Youngest daughter  (17)  spent a short time with birth parents, then returned to Ennis and has moved in as a mother’s helper/nanny for someone.

Rapid empty nest syndrome for Karen! So she needed a good ride - we went over to Trace Trails to idle through the woods, luxuriating in the fabulous fall weather (it’s still pretty warm around here, but cool enough in the shade)

Snapshots

 I forget which primitive tribe refused to let visitors take their picture because they thought their soul would be captured in the photograph. If there’s any truth to that, we are doomed - just look at these two miserable sods:

This is the photo which Zach said I look PO’d, but I was trying to get Peran to quit making faces/sticking his tongue out. I was also concerned about my ability to hike it on back to Fort Pickens, but taking it slowly I managed…

Finally got Peran back in a kayak - as a teenager he won several trophies. I’ve been unsuccessful in convincing P that we ought to get a couple of these inexpensive plastic kayaks - they’d likely just gather dust in our overcrowded garage

But our official reopening day yesterday went smoothly - we had a slow steady trickle of clients. Still trying to get the office trailer hooked up as I’ve ordered several “wrong” power adapters, and they failed  to deliver our replacement water tank. The architect’s assistant is supposed to come out tomorrow to take photos and start sketching out plans for the remodeling of the workshop. And in another odd twist of fate, yoga guy Dan is moving BACK to Red Oak - actually taking the shopping center slot where my old gym used to be, where I investigated moving the clinic until city zoning restrictions boxed me out! Small world, huh?

I’m limping around after doing what I tell everybody else NOT to do - breaking up a dog fight last night when Tyson jumped on my poor Dum… but Tyson had him by the throat, there’s no doubt in my mind he would’ve killed him if I hadn’t broken it up - poor Dum bit me on the calf and thigh as we rolled around, he was fighting desperately to defend himself! Peran was standing around helplessly until I hollered for him to go get my medical bag and I shot Tyson full of tranquilizer to get him to let go. 

If only we had had a videographer, I could’ve gotten paid for my footage - at one point we rolled backwards down the steps, I hit my head & that scalp wound also bled quite a bit.

Zach of course did not answer the phone when I tried to call him in the aftermath but he’s either gonna have to come pick up his dog or I’m gonna put him in the freezer - I can’t have one that doesn’t play well with others.

Trigger warning: don’t break up dog fights!!!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I hosed off in the shower, took a pain pill, & went to bed early. Actually got some decent sleep!

For Better or For Worse

 … I’m committed to this path, and I’ve got to see it through - like it or not! My annoying habit of looking at things from several time-traveling perspectives is absolutely unhelpful at this stage in the game:

What if I had pushed harder to get into the shopping center space in Red Oak? I could be setting up in a nice new cleanly-remodeled space instead of looking around my dusty workshop and thinking about the onerous chores ahead of us. (It’s the waking up at 2 or 3 AM, filled with dread that’s really getting to me)

My water tank won’t be delivered until Monday, thanks to Hurricane Ian. Last night I cleaned out one of my old water barrels which we can use for handwashing as if we’re camping out until the plumbers get us set up. I know I project my own worst traits onto Peran as far as procrastination and a tendency towards slovenliness, but he had let this barrel sit on the flatbed growing an impressive assortment of algae and mold - would it have been that difficult to tip it over and empty it out when he was no longer using it a couple months ago?? Oh well that’s what bleach is for! Thankfully we won’t have to drink it; I will buy us a couple of cases of water at Costco.

I feel as if I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trekking to Zach’s to help with animal care while he’s embroiled in school work. I’ve been keeping his dogs at the farm for the past two weeks, but trying to squeeze his three cats in would be too much for my little fluffballs. Not to mention everyone else that needs care: the rats, the lizards, and all of the snakes. I didn’t manage to squeeze in a trip by the pet store yesterday for my weekly cricket run, so I’ll have to do that today.

I’ll post a couple more pictures before I close the door on our Pensacola trip - I was able to have lunch with Zach  and Victoria yesterday; when he looked at a picture of Peran and I wading in the surf, he commented: “You look pissed off!” but I wasn’t PO ‘d, I was tired and concerned since we had to hike about half a mile to get out to the beach and of course had to hike back. All that was offered at the visitor center was a water fountain - I was worried that I might require assistance to get back. Fortunately I did not - I just trudged along slowly, bringing up the rear

More later!

Baby Steps

 I have haphazardly followed the teachings of Maria Cilley, aka the FlyLady, for quite a while - her best advice is “Baby Steps” - when you have an overwhelming tower of Things To Do, start with one small task at a time.

We finally have electricity at the workshop after a vehement argument with Oncor yesterday morning - the lady on the telephone claimed we had a meter when we were standing there looking at the vacant spot ourselves! A technician arrived shortly before 11 AM to set the new meter, but that put us a day behind on the electrician’s crew installing the plugs for the van and the trailers to use as  temporary power while they rewire the workshop. 

The next challenge will be getting our water supply set up - the tank is supposed to be delivered today. Again, when I was on the phone with their representative yesterday, she reminded me that there had been a hurricane in Florida - oh really?!? (Sarcasm alert - Ian nearly derailed our Pensacola weekend, but the Florida panhandle barely got any rain, thank goodness!) “IF” the tank arrives today, I can call the plumbers out to hook us up… Then I can call the septic tank guy so we can see where we stand there.

On & on & on & on…

I can remind myself of my own resilience - I didn’t think I had the fortitude for our fun-filled Florida weekend, but even though I was not feeling the greatest I had a good time: as much from appreciating my staff‘s enjoyment as anything - they are a fun bunch to hang out with! I suggested our Saturday excursion to Fort Pickens to do something a little bit different than just frying ourselves on the beach, and it seems everyone enjoyed it. It was a lot of hiking around, but by steadily and slowly trudging onwards, I kept up even though I felt like everyone’s grandma.

Limbo

 I am stuck in this awful limbo/purgatory-like situation: hopefully when I arrive at the workshop this morning I will find we finally have our electric meter set. We are really hamstrung until we get electricity, followed shortly by a water supply!

So for now I’ll just dump a bunch of photos from our Pensacola trip - it was very good, even considering the isolationist stance of my husband (it was not a romantic weekend - we were more like passing acquaintances, I’d say)

We hiked over to beachside restaurant Friday afternoon for our first “family meal”

                                                                  Russell & Ashley

                                                                    Nice view

                                                    Preparing to board Kristy’s first flight!

                                                      Cistern at Fort Pickens

                                                                Mini-golf!

                                                      The parapet of Fort Pickens

                          The “Ashley-sized” door (with 6’2” Peran for perspective)

                                       We threw lovebirds Kristy & Justin in the stockade

My iPad scrambles ‘em all up out of chronological order - I’ll come back & caption photos later