Julep: To Scout Camp ... or not

 As originally planned, the Julep Family Summer Schedule had the Bear spending nine days camping with the Boy Scouts in upstate New York over the 4th of July. He and the other boys his age moved up to the "big Scouts" in March. Every year the troop takes a really cool week-long adventure to one of the many, many amazing Scout reservations around the country, and Mr. J and I were excited for the Bear to take part. 

As y'all know, Bear went to sleepaway camp for 2 weeks in North Carolina last year, and he managed the "away from home" part just fine. As an introvert, though, he was pretty tired of other people by the second half of the second week. He didn't talk to any of us for 72 hours after he got home. So I thought this nine-day trip was going to be perfect ... until I went to the mandatory parents' meeting on Monday night and realized that only one other boy from his grade was going. That boy has an older brother who is in the year ahead of Bear.

I hate for him to miss out on this trip, but as I sat in the parents meeting and thought - this won't go well. The one other kid from his grade is, if you'll pardon my French, a real lickass. He tags along after his brother and his brother is a jerk. 

There are a couple of good eggs in the class above Bear and he gets along with them well. He also gets along fine with the older boys in the troop ... just as he did earlier in June with Horse's boys out in Colorado. But since he was in kindergarten and went to summer care at St Somewhere, he's had conflict with a couple boys in particular in that grade. 

My current working theory is, those boys are mostly older brothers. They are used to bossing younger boys around, and they like to assert their authorit-ah. Well, that does not work with my kid. Bear bends the knee to nobody. He's also not socially adept enough to recognize that they are messing with him and walk away before it gets ugly.

Mr. J and I really don't want the Bear to sour on Scouts this early. So now we are re-planning the next couple of weeks. And by we, of course, I mean I.

WWJD?

** I started this post days and days ago. I honestly can't remember what more I was planning, so I'm popping it up now and moving on to the next one.

Last week we took a family vacation to Colorado. Good times had by all, though it was a little on the soggy side. We got to spend 3 days with my good friend Horses and his family, which was lovely. He continues to be his conservative non-MAGA-nut Oxford-shirt-wearing self, and his wife is still a crunchy granola earth lady, which is funny to see but they are evidently still very happy together. Only two of their three boys (ages 15 and 13) were home during our stay, but both of them were so sweet and kind to my tweenage children, it's clear that they are being raised right.

We had also planned to spend a night or two with one of Mr. J's oldest friends, Books, who lives in Colorado Springs. I had told her months in advance that we were coming and what the dates were ... but I discovered the week beforehand that Mr. J had failed to have any follow-up conversations with her, even though he had consistently assured me that we would stay at their house. Turned out that they were not receiving guests. Now, these folks did spend two nights at our house less than a year ago, but apparently their house is very small and she works from home. et cetera. Sure, fine, whatever. There are hotels in Colorado Springs, it's fine. Books did want our families to get together one evening, though. They didn't invite us to the house for dinner - they picked a (fairly pricy) restaurant. Separate checks, natch. 

It's been a long time since she lived in Louisville; apparently the Southern hospitality has worn off. I promise I don't mean any of this b!tchy. 

Books has a daughter who is 2 years older than my Punkin. They hit it off when the family came to Louisville last year, and once again got on like a house afire on this trip. Punkin went back to their house after dinner so they could get swimsuits and Books's Daughter came and swam at the hotel pool for a while and Books caught up with Mr. J. Books is considering returning to the Louisville area in the next year - her job is now fully remote, Colorado is really expensive, she still has family here, and also Books's Daughter had a really hard time in school last year. Colorado Springs is very evangelical, and although Mr J and Books grew up attending Catholic school together, their family is not religious at all. Apparently BD was subjected to a lot of bullying last year.

Punkin has gotten very into emailing her people (so far, my mom, my sister, and her school-year babysittter) -- and at first I thought it would be so sweet if Punkin and BD stayed in touch by email. But after the first conversation with Punkin, I have failed to follow up with Books to get contact information for BD. The fact is, I am hesitant. 

While BD and Punkin were at the house, BD was showing off her room and told Punkin a particular item was a gift from her ex-girlfriend. BD then told Punkin that she is "bi." Punkin brought this up to me at breakfast the next morning with some anxiety ... she asked me if I thought it was OK for people to be bi, and I told her that of course it's OK, some people are made differently and God knows what He's doing when He makes people even when He doesn't use the standard pattern. For instance, one of Horses's boys is deaf. There's nothing wrong about being deaf and there's nothing wrong about being gay or bisexual. 

That said ... I give a side-eye to a 12 year old who (1) already has "ex-girlfriends" and (2) wants to tell my 10 year old about them. What's this kid processing? 

 

Twinkle: Evading the Cookie Police

 Youngest and I got smarter tonight.

We all came in late from seeing the Little Mermaid. Youngest and I lingered in the lobby while everyone else went upstairs on the elevator (mostly because I didn’t want to be on an elevator with Fun Sink.)

Youngest noticed the cookies all packaged up, and she felt she’d had too many Milk Duds at the movie so cookies weren’t a good idea, but she thought they might be nice to bring everyone for the road trip tomorrow. We grabbed some, put them in my pockets, and headed upstairs to the cousins room. 

Fun Sink was ready and waiting on the other side of the door. She came in immediately when she heard us come in, thinking she would bust us. Sorry, Fun Sink, nothing to see here. She left, then came back a couple minutes later. Still nothing to see. 

I was just saying goodnight to my kids at that point, and she found another reason to come in, a hairbrush or something. Still nothing to see. I discreetly put the cookies behind the tv and told the kids they were for the drive home. 

Imagine being that person, the person who thinks she is the cookie police. It must be miserable.

Twinkle: Sock Woes

My MIL loves to talk about how little my SIL is. It’s a major topic of discussion, and it’s weird. We can all see that she’s short. The family talks about it so much that my niece aspires to be little just like her mom, because being little is weirdly glorified. My niece is a very cute but normal-sized 8th grader, but she’s always talking about how little she is. It’s sweet that she wants to be just like her mom (although the family would probably think that part of it was weird since they don’t seem to care about the bond between mothers and their children). I just think it’s weird that in this family, my SIL has made being a short person her whole personality, and everyone else treats it like it’s just the ultimate quality that everyone wants and only my SIL has. Who would want to be that weirdly small? Why is something that is immutable, that you can’t choose or change about yourself, the ultimate quality to care about?

We have to relive the moment years ago when my SIL was on a plane and the flight attendant referred to her husband as her “daddy.” There was the time she played softball and was the smallest one. Every time there’s something tiny, my MIL has to compare it to my SIL. We have to relive these stories again and again. My BIL extols the tininess of her feet. Meanwhile everyone acts like my kids are giants when they’re just normal height. This family talks about height, and who is tall and who is short, all the time. And the subtext is always that short is better. No wonder my niece aspires to it.

My feet are actually smaller than my SIL’s and my neice’s, but I have never made a big deal about it because I’m not weird. Even though for 16 years I’ve been hearing about how small SIL’s feet are.

So this morning my niece complemented my shoes and I thanked her but mentioned my ankle socks didn’t come up high enough in the back and I was afraid my shoes would rub agains the back of my ankles. My niece said she had some socks that would come up higher and they’d “definitely fit me because [she] wears a 7.” She said this as if my feet would obviously be bigger than hers, but I wear a 6.

I put on the socks. The heel is halfway up the back of my leg and the socks look ridiculous, because of the uncomfortable truth that my feet are smaller than my SIL’s and neice’s. I’m grateful because now my shoes won’t rub up against my ankles, but it’s just annoying. In a normal family, we could all laugh at the weird way my socks are too big, but in this family we can’t because my SIL is the only one who’s allowed to have small feet and hers have to be the smallest out of everyone’s, even though they’re not. If the tables were turned and she were the one wearing socks that were too big, we would never hear the end of it and my MIL would have to point it out and laugh about it all day and for the rest of our lives. “Remember those socks that [SIL] wore in St. Louis?” We would never hear the end of it. I wish I were exaggerating. It is exactly the stupid sort of thing they would make a big deal about, if it were my SIL.

I know it’s such a dumb thing to notice or complain about. This family is just so weird. Everything is backwards. They don’t value mothers but they do value my SIL’s smallness, above all else. 

Oh and my niece told a story about the ride here. She said Fun Sink gave my FIL a “savage burn.” They were going over a bridge that said “weight limit” and Fun Sink said FIL better get out of the car. I actually think that is a mean thing to say. Also my FIL is really a small man; no one could ever accuse him of being fat. He eats really, really healthy, to an annoying degree. It’s just like Fun Sink to take a cheap shot that’s actually mean, and not even true, and think she’s making a funny joke.

She is just an unhappy person. I know this sock thing is not my strongest argument against my family. I know socks are boring. My point is it’s part of a weird pattern of commenting on people’s sizes. 

Twinkle: St. Louis Blues (But Not Really)

In the name of trying to smooth things over with my husband’s family, I agreed to go to St. Louis. It’s a major inconvenience and it’s kind of awkward with my in-laws, but I am trying. I’m really trying.

The day went well overall. Fun Sink really wanted us to go tour some Anheuser-Busch farm, but I didn’t want to support it because of the whole Bud Light thing. Sorry not sorry, but Dylan Mulvaney mocks women and I just didn’t want to support it. She kept pushing and pushing us to go, but we held firm and told her to go without us. She waited for us at the hotel, thinking she could strong-arm us, but we turned the car around when we saw their car at the hotel. We drove to Wash U to walk around. 

Dinner at a bbq place was fine. The kids went for a night swim. All was going well. And then I really messed up, y’all. I messed up big time, and she is not happy. 

It all started when I walked down to the lobby of this Hampton Inn to get a shower cap, and saw that it was “cookie hour.” I grabbed a couple of cookies for my husband, and thought about taking some to the kids, but I knew Fun Sink wouldn’t like that, so I didn’t do it. Because I’m trying here. 

When I got back upstairs, my youngest was in my room (visiting from the cousins’ room down the hall). I said, “Hey—come with me and I’ll take you somewhere fun.” And we went to cookie hour. I thought it would be our little secret.

We sat in the lobby while she ate her cookie and gave me sage advice about not worrying so much what Fun Sink thinks. When it was time to go upstairs, she wanted to grab cookies to take to everyone. She wanted to return to the cousins’ room a hero, bearing cookies for all. How could I say no?

I carried the cookies upstairs discreetly. When we got to the room I handed them to Youngest and she passed them out to all the cousins, who were delighted. Everybody was having fun and eating cookies and it was just a cute moment and a nice memory.

Until Fun Sink walked in.

She smelled the joy and cookies a mile away and came from her adjoining room. She immediately surmised the situation, and she gave me the most DISGUSTED look. Like just absolute disgust. It was hands down the dirtiest look I have ever received. Pure disgust, and she was not trying to hide it. 

I quickly kissed my kids and the cousins goodnight and got out, laughing all the way down the hall.

A few minutes later Youngest came down the hall knocking. She said Fun Sink gave her a disgusted dirty look, too. Youngest just shrugged and threw up her hands, and said, “It was cookie hour.”

It’s just funny at the point. Who is she to say when my kids can and can’t eat cookies? She’s no one, that’s who. She is not the ultimate authority, and that’s what she hates. It kills her that she’s not their mom. She also hates that I being fun and joy and all the kids love me. She hates that I can make decisions about my kids that she disagrees with, and she can’t do anything about it. 

She’s really missing out on fun and sweet memories with her family, because she can’t just lighten up. She’s missing out on a relationship with me, too. I’m sure she saw this as me trying to undermine her (I found out later that my FIL wanted to take the kids to cookie hour, but she vetoed it.) She looks for the worst, she assumes bad intentions from me. It’s her loss. 

St. Louis is actually sort of fun. I get to be with my kids and my niece and nephew, and we’re having fun! And I’ve once again angered Fun Sink by simply existing.

Julep: Return of the Blog

 First of all, I really want to thank Twinkle for resurrecting the blog. I have not had such fun in years as the evening I spent re-reading our history. We are hilarious and I can't believe we let this lapse for so long. We're back, baby! 

Secondly, I have continued to mull over the Twinkle family saga since we talked over cocktails on Tuesday night. I know I said some of this on Tuesday, but of course, the margaritas and wine were also flowing ... so excuse me for repeating myself. 

Fun Sink is so, so, so mad because this whole episode has been a torpedo to her long-term plan to make Twinkle irrelevant. I am convinced that she has been biding her time for YEARS, telling herself that as soon as the girls are old enough, she can cut Twinks out and engage directly to mold them into the self-critical, miserable young Jewish women she thinks they should be. But -- in addition to being batshit - her plan has two critical flaws. 

(1) She moved too fast and showed her hand. I said on Tuesday that she should have waited until the girls were old enough to drive etc., but Dibbs rightly pointed out that once they can drive themselves, they won't want to hang out with her. She was right to start reaching out at this age to build the connection. But what she should have done was to stay below the radar for now. When Twinkle asked to be looped in, she should have done it perfectly, exactly as asked. And then she could have had all the opportunities she wanted to tell them not to eat anything tasty and stay away from goyim and feed them nasty untrue nonsense about Twink's understanding of family dynamics.

(2) She's overlooked the power of personality. The Twinkle girls love their mama, because she's lovable! And fun! Whereas Fun Sink is, indeed, a fun sink. If asked to decide who they want to grow into, what likelihood that the Twinkle girls choose Fun Sink?

... we already know what happens when someone is presented Fun Sink as one alternative and Twinkle as the other. Exhibit A: Mr. Twinkle.

Mr. Twinkle is the key here. All his life, his mother has made her affection conditional on her approval. Even though he has opted for fun and glamour and good times instead of dour joylessness, he still struggles. He's still trying. 

Twinkle, I think you need to be up front with your girls that this is hard for you, but it's really hard on Daddy. You're asking them to help you keep the peace with Fun Sink so that Daddy's life can be a little easier. I'd offer up some conversational starters like " I hope you know that Daddy and I will love you no matter how you choose to live your life. You don't have to earn our love, we love you just because you're ours. I don't know if you've ever noticed this, but Daddy tries really hard to earn his parents' approval. They do love him, and they mean well [Ha!] but feeling judged is hard for him." Then I'd let them talk. Your girls are smart and I bet they have observed plenty already. If you offer them the opportunity to air what they have seen, and compare notes with each other, you're in business. When she starts pulling that sh!t on them, they will be perfectly aware of what's going down and they won't fall for it.

Always, always bring it back with grace. Who can get mad about that? We worry about Daddy. We are sorry for Fun Sink because she doesn't seem to enjoy her life very much. Let's do what we can for her while preserving our own awareness of who we are. 

Twinkle: Transcript of the May 11 Call Between My Husband and Fun Sink

Husband: Um. OK. So I know you were pissed about that text because you didn't invite us to Shabbat right after that, so I wanted to talk about it.

Fun Sink: I...Uh...Well. It was not...we were going out that night. Or dad went out; I was sick. So. That's when Dad went to Faye's. But you know. I wasn't happy. [bitter laughter] You know I'm not her whipping boy.

Husband: Yeah. I mean, so...so did you think it was too harsh? Or did you just think that you don't feel like you need to go through her and can just go to the kids?

Fun Sink: [Husband's Name], I didn't go through anybody. [Eldest] texted me because she wanted some things to take on that trip, and asked me if I could take her shopping that day, which was Monday, and she wanted some things to leave on Tuesday. When she texted me, I said, "Did you clear this with your mom?" And thats when [Twinkle], I guess, went off on [Eldest], because then she said, "Well, maybe you better check with Mommy on this," or something. So...I didn't instigate any of that. But she can't just say, "Hey, can you check with me?" She's got to...uh...send two paragraphs, like I don't know she's their mother?!

Husband: Well...I didn't think. I honestly didn't think the text was harsh, but from the reaction that I gathered, you know, you did. I do think that all she was trying to convey was that she did want to be the point person for anything with uh—

Fun Sink: And two sentences could have done that. 

Husband: I mean maybe she was trying—

Fun Sink: I feel like you—

Husband: Yeah. Go ahead. You feel like what?

Fun Sink: silence, sniffling

Husband: You there?

Fun Sink: I'm here.

Husband: What were you going to say? You feel like what?

Fun Sink: [voice cracking] Nothing. It doesn't matter.

Husband: It it matters. I mean I feel like we ought to be able to talk about it because, obviously I love you; I love [Twinkle]; I want y'all to have a better relationship. She just wants to be included as part of the family. I know you want to be able to, like you, know, see the kids when you want to see them. I feel like we can talk about it. Maybe this isn't the best time because you're at school, but, you know, it puts me in an awkward position. I want you all to have a better relationship—

Fun Sink: I've tried—

Husband: She does appreciate—

Fun Sink: For fifteen years I've tried.

Husband: Well—

Fun Sink: [voice cracks with emotion] In her 3000 posts on Facebook and Instagram, there is not one of me or anything that I ever do for those kids, [more emotion] and I love those kids beyond anything you could imagine.

Husband: I know you do. She knows, she knows how much the kids love you, and she wants you to be with them. You know, I...I...I understand you saying that there's no public expression of appreciation, but I feel like I have thanked you on posts before. I feel like she thanks you in person when you do things for the kids.

Fun Sink: No she doesn't. She never thanks me for anything. Not for a gift, not for anything. 

Husband: Well I'm sorry. We'll try to figure out a way for you all to get through it.

Fun Sink: [Husband's Name] I've tried for fifteen years to make her a part of our family, and for her to understand what it's like to have an extended family, because I know she didn't grow up that way. And I know that she didn't want anything to do with [her father's] family. I get that.

Husband: Wait, what? Wait, wait, wait. Say that again. That she didn't want anything to do...she didn't want us to have anything to do with his family? Or she didn't want to?

Fun Sink: [her mother] did not want to have anything to do—

Hubsand: Oh [her mother] didn't—

Fun Sink: with [her father's] family. And that's the way [Twinkle] grew up, with that as a role model. And...

Husband: Yeah, I never knew that. 

Fun Sink: What do you mean you never knew that?

Husband: Like, [her mother] would go to [her father's] side of the family stuff. I mean I don't don't remember her ever saying...

Fun Sink: [sarcastically] Oh she and [my mother's sister in law] were real close.

Husband: I have no idea. I have no idea. But regardless I feel like, uh, you know, I know you feel like you've done your best to include her, and I know you've done things to include her, I...you know, I...I think there are times where she doesn't necessarily feel included. 

Fun Sink: Such as?

Husband: So, like, I think she would love to help set up for Passover. She has said to me many times, "Why doesn't...you know, why don't I get invited to set up for Passover? It's my thing. Like, I can help with the tables; I can help set up." And you always, you always say you don't need help, and you end up doing it, I guess with [cousin]. And you know, but sometimes [sister-in-law] comes over and helps set up, and I feel like that's one, that's just one example where I think it would be nice if she could, like, help you set up. I know you talk about how difficult it is to pull it off now. Like, let her help with that.

Fun Sink: You know, [dramatic pause] I understand your situation. That's all I can say. So...I don't want you to be in the middle of this, and...

Husband: Well, what does that—

Fun Sink: And I don't want hard feelings because... [sniffle] just...

Husband: Well what do you mean you understand my situation? Just that?

Fun Sink: That you're caught in the middle and I don't want to to be that way. [emotion]...But...

Husband: Well, let's just see what, you know, try to work through this stuff over time but, you I know, I...I...I...I don't know. I mean, I'm sorry that, uh, you don't feel appreciated, but, but I don't think that post was necessarily intended the way you might have taken it. I don't think she was trying to be mean about it, I think, I mean you're right. It could have been done in two sentences, maybe, but I think she was just trying to explain it. But...

Fun Sink: Well.

Husband: But, I understand and I, you know, I love you both, and I know how much you love the kids and so. And, I don't know. I don't want it to end up being this passive aggressive thing where if you're, if you do feel upset about something that you just keep it in and don't talk about it. It's better if we all just talk through it, or at least you and I talk, and I talk to Hunter if you all can't talk directly about it. 

Fun Sink: [crying] Well, I think that, uh, you know, it's probably me and I just need to go to a...counselor or somebody, because... [voice cracking with emotion]

Husband: I mean. I don't know. If you want to do something together, we can do like family therapy together if you want. I mean I don't think that's a bad idea; I think it could be helpful. You know, I think...I think, I know, I didn't realize in this situation that, that, that [Eldest] reached out to you and that you then told her to ask, um, [Twinkle] about it. I didn't understand the, like one of the things that [Twinkle] mentioned to me just because, since we're talking about it I kind of want your view on what actually happened, but when we were at Grandma's for her birthday, I think I was in the kitchen, and [Twinkle] afterwards was really upset and was crying at home, saying that you said "Pretty is as pretty does," multiple times and so, like, I don't know was that, like, a slight against her?

Fun Sink: Nooooooo.

Husband: So what?

Fun Sink: One of the kids was saying something, I don't even remember what they said, and I said, "Grandma always said, 'pretty is as pretty does.'"

Husband: Ohhhhhh. Ok. Yeah. Ok

Fun Sink: I was not—

Husband: See I mean that, that again. It's just a situation where people are taking things the way they might not have been been intended, so I don't know. I mean I'm. Look, I think it's helpful for us to talk and not keep things in side

Fun Sink: Honey. [bitter laughter] I have fifteen years worth of inside that you'll never know.

Husband: I'm sorry to hear that.

Fun Sink: [bitter laughter] Its...you know it's...I know you have to go so anyway.

Husband: What time is it? 

Fun Sink: Huh?

Husband: What times is it? Oh yeah. Yeah.

Fun Sink: Alright. We'll see you later.

Husband: Alright we'll see you tonight. Love you. Bye.