I had an interesting thought just now: When I tried to flush myself down the toilet (commit suicide) as a little kid at about 4 yrs. old, MD was standing right there watching me do it. She was around 20 yrs. old when I climbed up and stood in the toilet to "go where the poop goes", and due to the watery mess that
would have made on her bathroom floor, it should have infuriated her instantly! I was seriously contemplating taking my own life, and in fact I DID pull the chain, but what happened instead is that she saw my folly and ignorance and began to laugh, and I mean L-A-U-G-H!!! She didn't see my pain or how my heart must have been truly broken by her. No, she saw it as funny...just before her mirth subsided and she turned on me to beat me nearly senseless for creating more housework for her. And so it was always with her.
But this morning I got to thinking about it. One time when my dear GM was babysitting me (complete with "forts" made out of overturned chairs and blankets and many other fun things to do with my grandparents), it was getting late and she wanted me to go to bed, but I wanted to continue to play. She said no, now go to the bathroom before bed and I'll get the story book (only one in the entire house: Mixed Pickles). She helped me break down the "forts" and get into my PJs, but I was really irked! I wanted to stay up and play more!! So I trudged dejectedly and angrily down the hallway and into the bathroom while my GM watched - and sat down
hard to show her just how angry I was - but I didn't notice that my dear GP had left the seat up and I sat clear down into the water! My GM laughed so hard at the scene before her!! But it was different. Not the same "mean", snide laugh that MD had laughed, nor was it done for the same reason. Here I was irked, but with MD, after one too many beatings or scoldings for being "too ugly", I was to the point of escape even to the point of suicide. So both times I was in the toilet, but for reasons being polar opposites.
And afterwards my GM gently and lovingly dried me off, put my PJs into the laundry, and changed me into a T-shirt of GP's, still read me my story until I fell asleep, all nicely tucked in and feeling loved again, watching that bare light bulb as she read, and drifted off to sleep. Can you see the difference? My grandparents married very late (mid30s) and only had one child, a little boy who was stillborn. Probably would have lived with today's medicine, but not back in the 1920s. So they adopted MD and my Aunt M. They were only going to adopt one, got her and went out to the car, but the first one said, "What about my sister?" So they went back and took the other one, too. So like my grandparents to do such a thing. Both MD and my Aunt M. argued about which one was "The One" taken first from the orphanage, but knowing them both, I tend to believe my Auntie.
This adoption was done in the depths of The Depression when MD was 5 and Aunt M was 7. For their next Christmas, my GM and GP
handmade the girls dolls with doll clothes and a doll house. Throughout The Depression my GM worked as a CPA at home while raising them, and my GP had a job with the railroad. These are the people MD later called "suckers for a sad story".

She's really lucky that they were! They took her AND her sister AND even my Aunt J
a year later when they both asked, "But what about our OTHER sister?"

And they returned to the Orphanage as soon as they realized that THREE sisters had been split up and got Aunt J, too. But Aunt J was Aunt J, even at that tender age of 10 caused so much trouble in the household , like saying to the two younger girls, MD 6yr. and Aunt M 8yr., "Let's run away! These people aren't your REAL parents!!" and was physically abusive to other family members and so on, that my grandparents realized that they had to deal with her disruptive behavior somehow. My Aunt J generally knew where her actual bio-mother and stepdad were living, and my grandparents with their unbelievably generous hearts found them not far from where I live now and took all three girls there for both a visit and a choice. When the visit was over, my grandparents asked all the girls, "Do you want to live here or do you want to live with us?" Aunt J chose her bio-mother and Aunt M and MD chose my grandparents. Everyone kept in contact over the years. Problem solved. That is why I loved my grandparents so much. They were like this in everything - very fair, very patient, and always with the wisdom of Solomon. But this idea of them standing there, within a short time after losing their only child, a son, to stillbirth, and asking that question of their new daughters and TAKING SUCH A RISK of utter disappointment and possible gut wrenching grief all over again, astounds me to this day! Who does that sort of thing? My grandparents really lived their faith!!
So why did MD turn out so rotten? Well, she had five years, her formative years, of mistreatment, sexual molestation, absolute poverty, and the worst one of all: ABANDONMENT
prior to her being adopted! All of that horrible negative that she had experienced before her adoption made her feel "less than" and UNWANTED - and she was DETERMINED to NEVER EVER let anyone make her feel like that again! The trouble was that all those feelings were coming from the INSIDE of her, not from the outside, and so thereby she could never really win. And who got to be her whipping boy every time she felt like that? ME.
And she passed it on to me, too. I was cruel to my older son, too, just as she had been to me, and I even lived in the cottage out in the back of my grandparent's house. Talk about deja vu!! I was my grandparent's caretaker which I did happily. But when I really thought that I'd killed my son (he went down and didn't get back up), I called CPS on myself, got a counselor, and began to really explore how it was that I got here and how to STOP IT! That was in 1974, Nixon was standing in the front of the plane, giving two peace symbols and saying, "I'm no crook!" to avoid impeachment, and I watched "All My Children" (soap opera), gardened, and fought "being fat" at 140 lbs!!

Honestly, not much has changed...except that I no longer have that FURY, that RAGE, deep inside me if I don't get my way. I roll with the punches more. TONS of T's and counselors later PLUS over 25 yrs. of dealing with the public has really helped me. The rage is gone just like the addictive URGE to smoke has blessedly left me.
But I put some effort into it! I went to T after T, and I always wanted to be "nice" like my GM. I was ALSO lucky to have her as a role model!! And my GP too!! But MD did nothing but lash out at every female around her. The closer to her they were, the more violent the lashing out! She just plain didn't care!! If she ever did admit to the violence and go to someone to help her get rid of HER demons, she would have felt "less than" again or possibly open her up to being unwanted/abandoned, and she was having NONE of that! SHE was "elegant" (or more like mid-western elegant), like she drank wine, yes, but bought the cheapest red she could get and in a 1 gallon jug. She didn't even dress fancy and bought her clothes from a catalog. But her house was CLEAN!! Uncomfortably clean, but then she could look down her nose at others that way. Aunt J gave her a run for her money, and Aunt M just agreed with her, yet stayed out of her way. ME? I was just an infant, then a normal kid, but I was target #1!! I needed a mother, but got Mommy Dearest instead. We lived on my grandparent's property until I was 5, so lucky for me I got
their influence, too. GP made me feel needed and capable AND PROTECTED whenever he was around: "helping" with hanging the laundry up on the clothes line and the trash burning and the gardening (he was retired), and my GM allowed me to "cook" anything out of the Betty Crocker cookbook. They
fortunately for me helped me to develop an interest in those things. There was never any judgement or shame involved with them.
Did I do some rotten things from time to time? Yes. Because I was a kid! But was I a rotten person because of it? I don't think so. Not now anyway. But back then? You bet I did. And MD always backed up that idea. I was the WORST, the DUMBEST, the MOST UNGRATEFUL, the U-G-L-I-E-S-T kid in the entire WORLD. NO ONE was worse than me! Or so she said. Over and over and over and over again, throughout my entire life, in words and innuendos and attitudes and slights. One tends to believe it after a while when delivered by the person that one should trust above all others. But time away from her led me towards the truth...eventually.
========================(Glorious Monday "morning"!!)
Which can only be said by a retired person!

Everything is closed on the weekends and due to my gaming and general lethargy, nothing much gets done (usually) either.
I had a weird dream last night. Or actually this morning because I REALLY slept in...clear until noon. But it was worth having the dream. I dreamed that my dad was still alive and so were my grandparents. My dad said that he was leaving for a minute, that he'd be right back...but then he left me, abandoned me. I was little at first, and then was who I am now, and I felt truly abandoned by him. When I woke up, I began to realize just how damaging that must have been for MD. To understand her (for me) is helpful to me and MY healing. It's really hard to rectify and balance the brutal beatings of an infant and a toddler with MD's rough childhood - AND IT'S NO EXCUSE FOR WHAT SHE'S DONE - but I can at least see what has happened to her and how it effected her into feeling she had the RIGHT to treat me as she did. She needed an anchor baby, I was who she got, and I then rapidly became an inconvenient and undesirable burden to her...and she grew to hate me, an infant, for it!! Day after day of dirty, stinky, crappy diapers, a colicky, screaming baby that was heard by all in my grandparent's crowded house, including her M-A-N (and knowing my father, he would try to AVOID the situation
and her and the loud, irritating noise!!), the constant bottles and feeding schedules: NOT AT ALL what she had anticipated!! She even drugged me with phenobarbital in my formula - not kidding!!
Remember: all she knew of babies (and in fact all ANYONE in that household knew of babies,
including my grandparents) was what she'd seen in movies of the time. People went to the movie theaters in those days, and at 16 (when she married my father. a wounded vet just home from WWII), people did NOT bring their squalling children to movie theaters! It was ALL adults in my grandparent's household, too (my father had not built the cottage out back yet for another year and a half), and no one was ready for the constant shrieking of me. In 1967, my older DS was also colicky.
Tension in the mother is often the cause, and MD actually came to stay with me when I had him - but only to torture me. She went through all my drawers and closets, complaining about how I did EVERYTHING WRONG, how HER way was so much better, and how I needed to just give up the "nasty" form of feeding (breastfeeding) and give my son a bottle of formula that stunk to high heavens! I was so uptight that I could not nurse. I had no milk, or so I thought until I contacted
the La Leche League by phone (still around today online). They recommended that I boot MD (WHICH I DID WITH GLEE!!

), get several beach towels, massage my painfully FULL OF MILK breasts in a precise manner, and VERY soon I felt the milk "let down". AND THEN IT
GUSHED OUT in a literal stream! I soaked those towels, one after another: one under my breasts, one in the washer, one in the dryer - repeatedly! And oddly, the "colic" ended soon, too. How about that?! ♥♥♥
GOD BLESS THE LA LECHE LEAGUE!!!!!!!♥♥♥ Due to their patience and kind and gentle guidance, I successfully breastfed all three of my children!
How did I get off on all of that?

I have gardening to do! AND inside work, too! BUT I'm glad I shared that anyway. I FIRMLY BELIEVE that MD caused her OWN problems with colic due to HER being a perfectionist with a movie theater driven philosophy of life!!
AND being 17 when she had me!
And her adopted mother and closest sister (my Aunt M) having no experience with babies either. That colicky cry is particularly piercing, LOUD, and hard to listen to. I'm saying this from experience myself with my ODS. But if it's not "gas" and is simply an uptight, inexperienced mother (as it often is), the trick is to simply
relax and enjoy and LOVE your baby in a peaceful surrounding. Sitting outside (if possible), rocking, and breastfeeding (babies best and most nutritious food + being close to mother) discretely of course (use a light blanket) - how could a baby NOT be soothed by that kind of treatment by a loving mom? They can FEEL the love. They can SENSE it!
And with that...I'm outta here! Got a Fuji apple tree and some invasive whippy weeds that are taunting me out there!!
Honeybera