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Tuesday, June 22, 2004
a book review. and my codependency (I think.)
I just took a break from reading Persuasion to read The Glorious Appearing, which had come in at the library for me after about six months of being in my hold list. In case you aren't up on your Christian-ese, The Glorious Appearing is the twelfth and final volume in that bestselling Christian fiction series about the end of time. I really hate to say it, but... the book sucked. The rest of the series I read and didn't mind too much, because the subject matter was of interest to me, even though the writing style (a poor attempt to be a Christian Tom Clancy) was off-putting to me. Not my style, nothing wrong with it, different strokes for different folks, all that. But in this last book, it's like instead of trying to channel Tom Clancy, the author decided to go for a kind of love-child-of-Nicholas-Sparks-and-Stephen-King kind of thing. And the scariest thing is, he succeeded. Ugh. I made myself finish just so I could finish off the series, and honestly, the last few chapters were better than the rest of the book. But now I feel like I need to go through a ritual cleansing before I can pick up Persuasion again, in all its crystalline, witty, romantic perfection. And I need to apologize to Jane too. Or at least read some Beverly Cleary or something, to cleanse my palate.
Total topic change: T has been so ridiculously stressed out lately, what with his job and all, that he's become (I think) borderline depressed. And I am so totally one of those people who is really distressed when those around me aren't happy. When my parents fought? end of the world. And oh good Lord the one time I saw my dad cry as a child was a nightmarish event of monumental proportions. DADDY CRIED. IT IS THE APOCALYPSE. Heck, even if there was trouble with the car, I was (quietly, because I come from a long line of men whose #1 Rule of Roadside Repairs is, "EVERYONE SHUT UP") really distraught. Now when those around me are unhappy, I just get this knot in my stomach and Nameless Dread starts making regular nightly visits (hello, ulcer -- which I think is probably the technical name for Nameless Dread, although I could be wrong) and generally life is less happy than I like it to be. So tonight I thought I would at least superficially cheer T up by giving him something to look forward to all day -- namely, his favorite dinner consisting of this kind of bastard offspring of Chicken Marsala and Chicken Parmigiana that I make, along with homemade rolls and a fancy (read: something besides lettuce, croutons, parmesan cheese, and bottled caesar dressing). It went well. T had a good relaxing evening. And I am officially Every Feminist's Nightmare, also known as The Codependent Betty Crocker.
File this one under "Things that Made Mommy Happy Today":
It's time for the Summer Reading Program, which means that this is a common sight around our house as the kids work toward pool passes and free French fries and who knows what all. Bribery: the best motivational tool for 8-year-olds in the world.
Update: My college-educated friend, who are smart about them there things, just told me (when I asked) that I'm not codependent. I'm just a worry-wart. You'd think there'd be a more technical term for it than that. Oh well. ;-)
