My Cowardly Sister

An open letter to my sister who blogs under the name The Cranky Housewife:

I knew that you would be a coward unable to handle anyone contradicting the illusion that you have created about yourself. Luckily, I saved my comment. Hopefully, Brittany from A Political Mind will see what you have blocked.

If you are interested in reading my sister's demented screed please feel free to look her up at the cranky housewife. Be assured that she hates feminists, liberals, self-actualized humans and anyone who disagrees with her by using the most generic, disproven stereotypes that are thrown around by any git on Fox News. Example:

Liberal feminists are typically loud mouthed complainers who want to have their cake, eat it too just as long as there are no trans fats… and they certainly won’t be baking that cake from scratch like some housewife or something. Just what kind of woman do you take them for?

yeah. that's it. We liberal chicks don't love our families, cook or do laundry or do anything homespun-ny. And anyone who is read my blog, KNOWS that I am all about the modern conveniences and not lifting a finger...

On the other hand, this is how she describes herself and those women like her:

Any man who is married to a conservative feminist will tell you that his least favorite conversations ever start with the words, “Honey, I’m not happy about something.” Those husbands know full well that this one simple phrase is (like it or not) a call to action, and can quite literally change the world – one universe at a time. Once a conservative feminist gets a bee in her bonnet there will be no peace until her demands are met, and if that means changing the direction in which the planet Earth revolves around the sun in order to restore harmony... well, the sooner we get started working on that the happier we’ll all be.

Ugh. Obviously the same nasty bully she has always been. My way or the highway. Margo has been the kind of gal that would use your feelings for her to get her own way. Don't want to see her in pain? Pay for that, bitch.

One political blogger tried to use logic and reason with my batshit crazy sister and responded several times to Margo's craziness. Here is my response to her that naturally my sister deleted. Because she doesn't want facts interfering with what people think about her:

Brittany, Don't waste your breath. My sister has always made up stories when facts don't exist. If you listen to what she writes you understand that "conservative feminism" is bullying people until you get your own way. She thinks that Puritans were first wave feminists! Not exactly the word that I would use to describe Mary Wollstonecraft assuming that Crankypants even knows who she is. (oops, I forgot, education and culture are wastes of time when one has laundry to do - truly the feminist mantra).

Remember that her type is a bully and a user and will insult, lie, and use any institution that they can to get what they want.

Let me tell you about an example. Picture a man and woman who spend several nights a week at the home of their daughter who just gave birth to triplets to watch over, feed and change the moppets over night so their daughter and son-in-law could sleep. Now imagine that when the boys reach their first birthday, that man and woman are told that they are terrible people and the woman is an alcoholic who is a danger to those children. In order to have contact with their grandchildren that man and woman would have to stop drinking, go to AA and then go into therapy. Imagine then the folks being told that the daughter's parish priest (who never met the folks) agreed that the folks were a danger to the daughter and her family.

Now you might ask the question, "If the folks were so dangerous, why did the daughter allow her sweet boys to be thus endangered?" Ahh. The answer is: the daughter needed them. And when she didn't anymore? Well out to the trash with you. And I bet you aren't surprised to learn that the daughter in this story is my sister, the cranky housewife.

Good Christian and homespun family sort that she is hasn't let her parents see her children in 7 years. I haven't seen them either even though I baptised them the day that they were born.

Oh, and I am a liberal. And I used to work "outside" the home, which deeply offended the her new, improved extended family.

So don't pay too much attention to what Mscrankypants has to say. She is full of bluster and bull and I haven't seen her bake a cake from scratch or otherwise in the 36 years I was allowed to consort with her.

You say that the tea party neglects history? True that. My sister is truly one of them at heart. She cast off her parents, her sister and her two nieces in order to protect her new world from evidence of her previous existence because those facts don't mesh with what she wants you to know about her.

The heartlessness she showed her nieces, in particular, is a perfect mirror of how the Tea Party operates.

Give me what I want or the little one's get hurt.

Very homespun indeed.

So she is a good Christian, homespun sort. and I am a fat loudmouth with no kindness in my soul.

In her world? Conservative = Good; Liberal - Bad (or Communist or whatever it is that people who have never had to accomplish anything on their own says about people who make an effort). She blocked my comment and closed all the comments on her blog to keep me from saying anything that she doesn't want anyone to know about her.

And by blocked my comment, I mean she probably got my brother-in-law to do it for her as details have never really been her forte and we all know what happens when a bully doesn't get her way.

In true conservative "feminist" fashion.

Another fantastic day

You know what is the best kind of day?

The kind where you are totally on top of things and are productive and then find out it was all an illusion.

Yup. Fun.

I was nice and organized, I had ordered my mother her birthday gift (lovely and likely totally inadequate flowers). After I took my shower, I noticed on my email that I got a confirmation that they were delivered and that my mother had signed for them... So, I called and wished her happy birthday. We had a pleasant conversation and then she hung up so she could go shopping.

I continued on with my day, getting some work done, feeling pretty good. The kids got home had a snack, went to volleyball practice, came home, worked on homework that I checked while I cooked dinner and cleaned out the refrigerator and ran four loads of dishes, deboned two cooked chickens, made home made chicken broth out of the carcass of one of them and made stir fry out of left over steak. Then we ate dinner. After dinner, I ran another load of dishes while Imelda had a quick shower. MonAnge ran up to take her shower when the phone rang.

It was my mother.

Wanting to talk to the girls. I put the girls on with them and they wished her a happy birthday and had a couple of questions for her. I noticed MonAnge giving me a strange look and then passing the phone off to her sister. "Is Nana ok?" she asked me. Hmmm, well since I had spoken to her less than 30 seconds, I didn't and said so. So then MonAnge went to take her shower.

Imelda didn't speak much longer to Mom. She asked if Mom wanted to speak to me, she gave a weird look then hung up the phone. "Nana said she was tired and going to bed," she told me. "But." Imelda told me, "She just sounded sad".

So, being the good daughter that I am? (or perhaps the word is idiot), I called back. Dad ditched from the phone as quickly as he could adding, "I don't need to be part of this!" Uh, oh... this ain't gonna be good.

And so I sat their quietly while I got lectured accordingly:

My mother had three children. One is dead. One is my bitch sister Margo who hasn't spoken to any of us in four years so therefore did not call Mom on her birthday. and then there is me. (Frankly, every time I hear this description of my Mother's situation I read a subtext of "and all I am left with is YOU!" I have been told over and over again that is not what is meant and that I should get over it and/or stop personalizing it, but I think that I am making a reasonable interpretation of the situation...)

Mom has always depended on me and I have always come through. I am like my father that way. She loves my father... therefore she loves me. (Because love can be broken down into a syllogism)

My mother has three grandsons who don't even know her! She SHOULD get a call from her grand daughters with whom she spends so much time. "Yes, she should," I tell her. "I am sorry" (No holiday or birthday in the last two years is complete without an apology from me... so I just offer them randomly now) "Well, you ARE responsible," I was told, "You are the MOTHER!"

My mother gave birth to three children. One is dead. One is a bitch. My grandmother didn't call and I fucked up again. She will see me Saturday when I cook her a gourmet birthday dinner and coconut cake from scratch. In the meantime? You ruined my day (subtext again... but really? Is this REALLY a stretch for me to make?)

The time at the end of this phone call? 8:15 pm. IT WASN'T EVEN 9:00! Was I really making such a mess of everything?

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. I hate all people.

Oh, and then Fun Daddy called and I told him what happened and I got the standard irritated change in voice and then, "Anything else?" I hung up.

FUCK.

Fuck Gram for forgetting, FUCK MARGO, FUCK PJ for dying. FUCK Fun Daddy for not sticking up for me, not making me feel any better or even trying and for getting pissy with ME! Fuck les filles for not being more enthusiastic when they spoke to her and for being so busy that I couldn't call before 8pm.

I am so tired of feeling inadequate. I am tired of being expected to be everything to all the people in my life and for being judged as wanting.

Because I do want. To run away, but like an idiot, I stay to take whatever tomorrow's humiliation will bring.

God, I hope I am in the group in my family that dies before they are 60. I don't want to be everyone's asshole for another 60 years.

note: Did I mention that I also made home made doggie treats, went grocery shopping, paid the Amex bill and researched environmental disasters in the south suburbs? No? Well that was part of my inadequate mix of the day.

An Open Letter to My Sister....

Dear Margo,

Got the thank you note that the boys scrawled their signatures for... Sadly, you did NOT mention that you returned their Christmas gifts. I got that information today when I opened my Visa bill and saw the credit from the Disney Store.

I thought that the Pirates of the Caribbean swords were inspired. All little boys love this kind of stuff... Hell, my girls loved it too.. Remember how we used to give them pieces of spaghetti to fence with.. and taught them to say, "en garde".. When I saw these swords I thought of the Three Musketeers and them romping around and playing. Ok.. the eye patches are probably a bit offputting.. but we are talking about pirates! I should have guessed that you were going to be as self-righteous and hypocritical about children's toys as you are with everything else....

By the way, loved the pictures of the kids.. hope they get to know their only grandfather before he dies, you evil bitch,

Love and strychnine,

Your big sister.