To continue my musings about the Monday incident, I was lucky enough that F wasn't working on Monday so he, as one of my few IRL friends privy to the knowledge of my family, could talk through some of the boiling rage with me.

Certainly, neither have I. But is fairness really the measure by which we ought to be parenting?

Action:
My parents were always trying to save him at every juncture, no matter the cost.
Consequence:
I was the unintended sacrifice, and our relationship has suffered greatly because of it.  I find it hard to relate to my parents as I once did, and I definitely don't have a relationship with my brother anymore. But losing my brother isn't really my parents' fault. 


This is on my mind more and more as I approach a major life change myself, as I plan my impending marriage, the formation of my own family and even the possibility of my own children. The challenges of parenting are not lost on me.

Was it that one size fits all, culturally-based parenting was a bad idea? Or was something that couldn’t have been helped? This stuff is insanely hard. I loved my brother so much that I nearly had an ulcer standing up to him. I can't imagine what hells my mother went through. And is still going through. I ask myself every day if I would be strong enough to do what it takes to parent my own children?  Especially with some chance that my children may inherit some genetic cocktail that produced him?

With him as an example, not being sure if strength, courage, tenacity and even ingenuity would have been enough to bring him into adulthood as a functioning and contributing member of society, I don't know the answer to that question.

But in the aftermath of that Monday, I asked PiC if he could still love me if I put our child out on the street. If that's what it took to get through to him or her.

And he said, If you could do it, of course.

It's a question, I suppose, one must ask having been there and done that, but it should never get to that point, I should hope and pray. It shouldn't have to get that bad. If we'd been doing our job before that, if we'd been parenting, and present, we shouldn't, right?

One simply cannot know.

A few Mondays ago, I wrassled a bear.  Mid-morning, I had a bit of a meltdown because my idiot sibling had:

1. only been employed 2 weeks since the last job which was countless months ago, before his car broke down and he ran to my dad for help.  Right.  He has no use for any of us, he can't be bothered to lift a finger to pick up after himself or his dog or maintain basic cleanliness for the massive favor of letting him have a roof over his head for the nothing in return he's been paying these several years, but the second he is inconvenienced, he runs to us expecting us to solve it.  Typical.

2. my dad makes a massively bad call. Because he can't drive my idiot sibling to work himself - as if it was his problem in the first place - decides the only other option is to give him the car keys.  MY car keys. Not just my baby car that I slaved for three years to pay off early but the only car they have for transportation so don't you think it would be wise not to give it to your historically-proven completely irresponsible son to: potentially wreck, lose, lend to his friends to go joy-riding in, never bring back whole??  [See, what a PITA it is to replace a perfectly good used car. See also, hard to find a good equivalent.]

3. Idiot sibling went on to prove that past history is indeed the best indicator of future performance:  gets nabbed by a random checkpoint for an expired license and carrying his martial arts gear in the car - which should never have been there in the first place if he was going to work and straight back home - got the car impounded and himself tossed in the clink for carrying "weapons." It's a grey area, but the city's broke so before, when they would have said, carry it in the trunk (if he hadn't been, I don't know), off he goes.

4.  I was called Monday morning and asked to drop everything to get a letter notarized authorizing my dad to pick up the car because idiot sibling's license is expired so he can't pick it up.  A busyace Monday, and I'm supposed to drop everything to fix it because now, now we're worried about having to pick up Mom's medicine and not having a car to do it in. We didn't think of that before lending idiot sib the car, of course.


Following the clear-up, in one of three times in nearly 30 years, I had a nearly shouty conversation with my dad where I told him that this was totally unacceptable both on his and my idiot sibling's parts.  The choice he made was wrong and in direct contradiction to his promise to me never to let my idiot sibling drive my car specifically because he cannot be trusted.

He continues to put us in untenable situations - and I will not be able to continue to bail them out for self-created poor problems. This has happened before, remember.  This saddens me.  I've never been mean to my poppa. Saying that stuff felt Mean. But it's true.


Professionally, I simply cannot keep dropping everything for "family emergencies" when they are not justifiably emergencies.  A history of this will damage my credibility.  Considering how much I'm killing myself to support them, and I'm putting almost everything I have towards them, they should have a vested interest in stopping the madness.

Emotionally, I find myself wondering who they are now, and why I have no family anymore.  I had to cancel my trip home the following weekend.  I'm still upset with them and feel adrift.  Yes, I feel a strong sense of duty, but I don't feel any sense of love, not from them anymore, I just feel like I'm a resource to be used.  F said I'm just an absentee parent to them now and I think he may be right. For all that they profess to love me, they only reach out to me as a resource when something has gone wrong. If I come home, I'm welcomed but we don't have a connected relationship anymore.

Realistically, I disagree with the way the situation is handled.  Every single chance he has at learning to work and starts to flub it, my parents panic and try to salvage the opportunity.  That does not help him grow.

Yes, they are his parents, so yes, I understand they are afraid for his future.  But consider this: I have an equally, if not more, vested interest in his growth than they do - in theory, I should be living a far greater proportion of my life with him than they will.  And I too agonized with them over the future of my big brother as he made stupid choice after stupid, selfish, @$$holey choice.

The first thing he did in his first year of college was flunk out.  The first thing he did when I graduated high school and started college, other than sleep through my graduation, when my parents were flat broke and in debt, was run up a $900 phone bill.  It was all downhill from there.

When they handed the reins to me in "parenting" and specifically policing him seven years ago because they couldn't make him listen anymore, when they asked me to take on the responsibility of dealing with him, I cried acidic, bitter tears. I had heartburn and couldn't sleep for weeks. Even then I still desperately wanted my brother back but I knew, I knew without a doubt that he was gone. The person I was dealing with was only a few concessions away from using me the moment I let my guard down.  And then ultimately, I made the decision that he couldn't come home and for a few months, he was on his own. When he was allowed back in, for the sake of my mother's sanity, he knew I was serious, and toed the line.

For about a minute, it seemed.

As the sort that would take even when you hadn't given an inch, he actually tried a bit in the beginning which was surprising. Paid up once a month for a while, a couple hundred dollars, on occasion, nothing that covered anything of his debt that he owed me, but it looked like a good faith effort.  Then it soured again.  I became a dunning agent and groundskeeper in addition to breadwinner, advocate, legal and IT.  He did nothing but skate in and out, eating and sleeping at will.

Getting him home was not the answer for Mom's mental health either. She continued to deteriorate, she needed attention and affection from him, so she made me the enemy.  And she started undermining me, telling him when to break my rules because I wasn't home, telling him it was ok to do whatever he wanted as long as my back was turned.

That was a blast.

I was not long out of college when this began in earnest.  I was working a new job with a two hour commute, working 12 and 14 hour days and resentful as all get out over him.  I used to have a big brother.  For a long time, I've only had an idiot sibling.

Between our travel plans and the random breaches of security that the HOA has notified us of (garage break-ins, scammers getting access to the building), we've been considering ways to shore up the security of our home. 

For sliding doors or windows, the standard rod dowels to prevent opening works well so that's a cheap and easy solution. 

For the main door, we'd noticed a while ago that several neighbors had had an extra lock installed on their doors and had been discussing getting the same done.  While we're generally DIYers when it comes to home repairs and renos, this one was a bit beyond us as it requires drilling through the door itself and I'm not prepared to invest in those tools just now.

PiC's gotten one quote around $380:  $150 for the lock assembly (the additional lock), $50 to replace the existing handle, $95 for labor, $65 service call and tax. This locksmith is recommending that we add a reinforcement plate which is part of the lock assembly. 

He's still waiting on the other quote from his second choice but I'm still reeling from the first quote.  It's been a long time since dealing with door drama and I'm not certain if this is just typical Bay Area COL or if these locksmiths are overly pricey. 

A perhaps silent resolution on the subject of clothing has been breached.

After being introduced to the world of petite bloggers, I've continued to follow them fairly regularly, Alterations Needed, PAG at Extra Petite, Really Petite, to admire their forays into fashion, not to copy as I'd not quite be able to pull off for either PF or charismatic fortitude, but to learn from their self-editing and creativity.

As they've pointed out at time or two to a fairly clueless, probably troll, commenter, the offerings available to the petite community are limited and so what they share with each other is then taken across the petite blogosphere to become part of each woman's own style.  It's really fascinating how one piece of clothing can be worn so uniquely and well when someone has a sense of how to style oneself.

*looks at self*

This is not the case.  *waves hand*  Hereabouts.

Since entering this community, though I hadn't much to share of my own, I had resolved to learn what I could and the first lesson was to stop buying clothes that almost fit or was close enough in regular sizes.  I've been really good about that.

The thing I've been total crap at is putting pieces of clothing together that don't just say: BLAH.   This partly stems from lack of creativity and from buying clothes that look fine by themselves but having no vision of how to wear them in outfits.

It's taken me all year to stop just wearing a standard uniform of: button down shirt, trousers, plus a sweater and flats. I've been practicing really really hard this past month to try and create outfits: combining different layers of shirts and blazers (I only own two with odd length sleeves).  For about two weeks, I did do a decent job with that. 

But I've gone and done set myself up for failure again.

My shoes and I aren't so fashion-forward. And the pants aren't actually long enough to do THAT.

I needed a pair of more casual pants for the weekend that weren't jeans.

When J.Crew had their chinos on sale, knowing that I wanted something practical, I ordered some to try on for size.  They're practical, durable material.  They're like workman pants. I can do home reno projects in them, I bet.

But they're straight, almost tapered leg, hit me just above the ankle so I can only wear them with maybe .. flats?  Certainly not my sneakers which are few inches off the ground. These'd look like high waters.  And they gap in the back a few inches (hello memories of regular sizing!)

Hm. I really want to keep them but I think this sounds like it should be returned, doesn't it?

I really do need a shopping buddy for these less fun clothing items!

Every trip I take, I agonize over the ideal travel wallet scenario.  Unless it's within the tri-state area, my regular wallet doesn't come with me, but I've yet to find the go-to alternate player.

My previous choices have been: a small two-sided folding cloth wallet, a slim zippered make-up bag, a small coin purse.

The cloth wallet can't hold change or a passport; the make-up bag has held money, change, and some other useful items so it just becomes a clunker of a thing but doesn't hold my passport; and the coin purse can't hold enough of anything but cash and coins.

I'd like the wallet to have the capacity to hold cash, cards, change, possibly a passport if necessary (in some countries I won't want to have it in there).

After reading through the lively comments in Traveling Earl's post on this topic, it gave me a new idea.

I'll adopt a two-part tactic for our upcoming trip which will be a bit more in-the-rough than my average business trip.  I have a wallet that wouldn't bother me to lose so I'll use that to keep small amounts of daily spending cash; then keep some back-up cash....somewhere......

Of course, since I always carry a cross-body bag in the less natural parts (non-beach areas), it's not as much of a concern as it is for the menfolk.  Not really sure what the protocol is for beach days and how to properly lock up our stuff in hotel rooms as we're not going to be staying in any high end places.  I don't feel comfortable leaving anything of value in our rooms but I don't want to be lugging all our valuables like a netbook or camera with us to the beach either.

What'd ye ken?  Have you any thoughts, suggestions or go-tos?  

My thanks .....

to Kim at Blogging for Change for hosting this week's Carnival of Personal Finance and for including my post Surviving the Ascent out of Generational Poverty. 

A couple days ago, FB revived interest in my earlier post, Generational Poverty, when she wrote her own thoughts on her motivation to save.

The latest commenter, Layla, asked some practical questions that I simply had to answer in a post.

And I can't imagine doing what you did during school. Did you fail any classes because you chose sleep over school? When did you have time to shower? Didn't you go crazy with no time to yourself to tidy up or get yourself organized?

1.  I didn't precisely actively choose sleep over school.

My conscious priorities were school, then work, then sleep.  However, I would only take the minimum number of courses per quarter full time (12 units = 3 classes) because I could do that, plus a couple summer quarters and still graduate on time in order to make sure I could also work at least 20 to 40 hours of overtime every week.   That meant I was only sleeping 2-4 hours per night, depending.

An average day: up at 7 or as late as I could get up and get dressed, brush my teeth, grab my bag and get out to the car in five minutes. I was a 15 minute drive to school and a quick run to my 8 am class.

My school schedule was either a Mon/Wed/Fri block of 8a-12p days, followed by a scheduled workday (1pm - 10 pm, and stay as late as they needed me).  I'd squeeze in a quick nap and make lunch for my mom (she was ill for a time) if I could in the 12-1 hour.  Those quarters, I'd also be working Tues/Thurs/Sat/Sun.

During quarters when school was scheduled Tues/Thurs 8-5pm, I might have had those evenings off, and work the rest of the days of the week.  I studied between classes, during work breaks, and during other classes if they were boring.

I never failed any classes, but as far as being a straight-A student went, I failed at that. The schedule on paper was perfect but I was one tired puppy all the time and the grades reflected that.  I brought home a handful of Bs with my As and that was pretty disappointing considering I was slaving away for my own education.

2.  I always showered after work no matter what time I got home - 11 pm, 12 am, 2 am. After an 8, 10, 12 hour shift, following after a day at school, you must shower.  Even if you're mostly asleep, forget if you have or haven't shampooed and end up shampooing three times and conditioning none.  (Happened many times.)  But I mastered the five minute shower. 

3.  Go crazy?  Well, not for lack of organization - I lived and breathed organization being straight out of high school so that wasn't any cause for concern - I knew how to structure my life into a highly productive, totally efficient schedule so I did it and it felt comfortable in the sense that everything kept turning like clockwork.

I still lived the academic schedule so I always knew when I had to do that next set of planning.  My time wasn't my own.  But we were all students - my entire cohort was, so that was normal.

You know ... I honestly can't even remember much other frustration. I don't even remember if I was all that upset by my life being dominated by this grind, other than being annoyed by people who got in my way telling me not to do it.  Friends who didn't understand why I was working so hard or all the time, who wanted me to just get out and play; I can remember being aggravated by their lack of understanding. I needed to make a living to pay the bills and the simplistic outlook on life because they didn't have any responsibilities didn't jive with my moral compass and vision. But that was just grit in daily life.  


I knew why I was doing what I was doing and that was more than enough for me.  And at that time, my family was still intact.  I had a strong reason to believe it was all worth it. I was doing it for my family that I loved and that loved me.  There was no grey area.

Ed Note:  At this time, I was working to pay for:

1. Tuition and books
2. My parents' debt, in $10k chunks
3. Household bills, I was starting to take over paying the rent and utilities because my parents weren't making enough to pay the bills anymore.

Breathtaking. Also, above our pay grade.

One of the things we're going to have to do, once we finally set a date, is to select a place to have this shindig.  We're discussing more casual options like local parks which can be absolutely beautiful even as late as fall in Southern California.

Some reality checks: the weather can be capricious so a back up plan is advisable.  We'll have to budget for some set-up if we want tables, chairs, games or anything like that for guests to eat, drink and play.  I don't think a park picnic with just blankets would be terribly comfortable for all our guests, especially if some of them chose to dress up to any degree.  That calls for a discussion of whether to go DIY, hire a company to do set-up, or part A, part B. Given the level of disinterest on the part of most of our family and friends, I suspect the practical thing to do from afar is Option B.

Backyards aren't an option - neither of us have people whose yards can accommodate nearly 200 guests (alas, that is the intimately-sized guest list).

Along the way, we encountered some delightful places that I just had to share with you.


The Stop Talking Venue

PiC asked me to look at the Wayfarers Chapel.  It came to him as a recommendation or a take a look cause it's cool or something (I stopped listening.)  It was designed by Lloyd Wright, of the Frank Lloyd Wright line.

It's really pretty, and inspired by the giant redwoods so they loom ... but they loom.  And I'm not all about the chapels.  And then I saw the cost.

$3,000 for Saturday or Sunday weddings.  No, no, no, and no.

We're not spending that much of our budget on a venue, my dear, no way, no way.  He kept telling me about the "Friday special" just to torture me.

The Wed and Run Venue

Well-Heeled pointed out that contrary to our (PiC and mine, at least) assumptions, the Huntington Library was anything but affordable.  You sure can be wed there, they'll even reserve "scheduled access for vendors on set-up and tear-down days, as well as the day of the event; scheduled access for guests on the day of the event; and an engagement portrait session and a wedding photography session." The use fee doesn't include "catering, flowers, musicians, security required by The Huntington, cost of event planner, etc."

All for the low, low, exclusivity-guaranteeing price of: $100,000.

For a mad moment, I suggested that WH run in there on a free admission day with CB and her officiant, have him pronounce them man and wife, and RUN.   What?  It's no more raving than paying a hundred grand just for access to a place that doesn't include anything but the place and a planner.

Any takers?

We're still "working on" the date/place thing, but this was a breath of (gaspingly drawn, after much laughter) fresh air).  Oh me, oh my.  That we had that kind of budget.

Speaking of, we have a rough one.  I'll share with you once the edges have been smoothed over.