And here’s another quirk of my personality

I am a coward.

Oh, not in a lot of situations but I do detest confrontation. Nevertheless, sometimes I will screw my courage up and face it. Making a scene is not a favourite thing but sometimes you have to recognise that a scene is required and just go for it. I am embarrassing to be out with because I will make a point of trying to get dissatisfactions remedied.

So, my inner coward can be prevailed upon to don the lion suit and roar if I deem it truly necessary. Except, it appears, where my Number 1 Daughter is concerned.

Presently I am skulking in my room, dying to go to the bathroom, and yet not brave enough to let her know I am awake, lest the indepth analysis of my personality and my numerous shortcomings should be resumed. I wish she’d go to work.

In case you are wondering, this isn’t a new thing. It’s been happening ever since she hit puberty (or maybe even a few years before that). When I was married to her father, I used to routinely lock myself in the bathroom to get away from her following me around the house yelling at me. If I put the bathroom fan on high and concentrated very hard on making white noise inside my head, I couldn’t hear her at all.

I don’t get this. I deal with obnoxious people practically on a daily basis. I drive a huge vehicle through rush hour traffic, in major construction zones. I’ve been known to swim crocodile infested rivers. I stand up to bullies.

But her? She is scarier than them all.

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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7 Responses to And here’s another quirk of my personality

  1. Snowy says:

    Usually an indication of inner security, especially in adolescents struggling to come to terms with an adult world. Pointing out someone else’s real or imagined shortcomings makes the critical one feel better about their own shortcomings. ie. I feel bad and it must be someone else’s fault. Parents are the obvious fall guys.

    “I” messages make the pain a little easier to bear. eg. “When I am spoken to like that, I feel diminished as a person, as well as a mother”. http://www.love2live.com.au/articles/TalkSoyourChildrenListenPPP2.pdf

  2. quirkycharm says:

    Thanks, Snowy. I looked and I did try and I remembered that I had tried this stuff before. My daughter doesn’t take it. I do sort of understand where she is coming from because I loathe that sort of personal empowerment myself. Actually, it’s one of the things that I make fun of with Wayne, seeing as how he has approximately 70 million of these type of books. I mock him mercilessly when he tries the approaches on me so it is no surprise that my daughter does the same thing to me.

    I just have to remind myself that she is only eighteen, that she does love me a lot, that I did stuff up her teenage years by leaving the marriage. Then I knock back another glass of wine and go and skulk in my room again.

    I sometimes wonder, though, whether she displays these aspects of her personality to her friends of the same age. In which case, I am surprised she has any at all.

  3. Snowy says:

    I’m wondering if she would attend a STEP course with you, Kitty. People who behave this way are not happy deep inside. Which is normal for so many young adults, of course. Just a thought.

    http://www.wa.relationships.com.au/en/Courses/Building%20Relationships/Living%20in%20a%20Step%20Family.aspx

  4. Tina says:

    Aaah… the mother/daughter argument is the most scary thing in the world. When my daughters hit that magic age it was fairly normal to see the people around us digging fox-holes and jumping in. Yes, I knew that what I was doing was potentially as hazardous as hitting an H-bomb with a hammer, but I couldn’t help it. I do think that it’s my job to tell them when they go too far. I find that sarcasm and irony work wonders…

    For example… “Yes, I do know that my hair looks like shit. I’m glad that you pointed out to me what a horrible person I am because I don’t conform to your idea of acceptable beauty. Thank you so much for reminding me that by not washing my hair until it gleams, I am a failure in every useful feminine way. I don’t know how you can possibly live with such a disgusting old cow…. I’m so terribly sorry that my un-thinkingness has ruined your day.
    Oh, by the way… I love you even though you are a rude and unthinking little turd. Here’s your lunch… I hope you have a good day at work, darling. xx”

    Kids suck sometimes… especially those who are almost adults. But they do grow up….

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