My mom says I’d argue with Jesus himself.

My husband B claims I like to fight, especially with him.  Well, wouldn’t you want to fight a man whose opening line was, “So, you make the coffee in the office?”  Amazingly, the line intrigued me as I curled up my lip and snapped, “No…!”  And he looked kind of cute…

My son J instructs me that I need to ignore whomever it is that has crept under my skin.  Meanwhile, we’ve had to remind him more than once not to retaliate when in school or against a smaller, more vulnerable opponent.  Backing down when in a precarious situation or when he’s defending himself does not come naturally.  Maybe that’s why he likes wrestling and football.

My daughter E appears meek and innocent with her Precious Moments-like blue eyes, but she’ll sass you right back with a sizzle.  I can hardly wait until she hits puberty – autism or not, I can already sense the fights and hormonal rushes of being right.  Top that with my own PMS-fueled blitzes, and you have a mother-daughter nuclear war on your hands.

My sister L and I have a love-hate relationship which has since mellowed due to us living in separate quarters with our own families.  Being each other’s sole siblings with a mere 2-year difference, we spent a lot of time together.  One minute, we’re best friends forever, trying on fancy gowns at the mall for fun; the next, it’s classic sibling rivalry with hair-pulling and snarky comments about each other.  One time I threw a book at her and her nose bled which led her to slam my thumb in her bedroom door.  Another time, while watching the joyful, pleasant musical The Sound of Music on Thanksgiving Eve, she purposely elbowed me in the eye, and I wore black-and-blue that holiday.

Also, there was the time when L and I went to the town hall to rent a wheelchair for an elderly aunt.  Our Aunt F was spending Christmas with us and was having trouble getting around, so my mom assigned us the task of picking up a rental wheelchair.  We were bickering beforehand, possibly me as the instigator but reached a temporary détente while driving.

Upon arrival the clerk showed us the chairs and told us we could test drive them.  We chose a pretty, light blue one and wheeled it outside in the frigid December air.

“Get in,” L urged, “and we’ll test it out.”  I warily looked at her, my suspicions clouding above my head.  Her blank expression betrayed no anger or deception, but I knew my erstwhile enemy better than that.

L began to push the chair while I tried to enjoy the free ride.  What had she really planned to do? I looked toward the steep hill and thanked God the property was at the base of it.

Slowly, she gently pushed me and then suddenly picked up speed and started running.  Racing around the parking lot, I realized she still was angry and crazily riding me around in the chair was her revenge.  Did I ever mention that my mom forced me to accompany my thrill-seeking sister on amusement park rides because she didn’t like them?  And I not only used to be scared of rides, but I sometimes get physically sick on them, too?

Halfway into the death drive, the chair collapsed enough to make me fall to the ground with a clumsy thud.  Laughing hysterically, she fell, too, her breath coming out in short puffs.  I couldn’t stay mad, either, and experienced an achingly good belly laugh.  Luckily, the chair didn’t suffer too much harm although now you really couldn’t sit in it.

We wheeled it back inside while the clerk’s eyes narrowed, seeing the broken chair, and doubtfully asked if we would take it.  Maybe she had spied on our racing and pratfalls? We declined the chair and requested a sturdier-looking one without test driving it.  As we wheeled the second chair out the door, she watched us carefully and suspiciously, probably hoping we wouldn’t return.

From our fighting, came comedy, and we rekindled our friendship/sisterhood, saving our elderly aunt from breaking another hip by using the faulty chair.  It was worth fighting for…

This is an original post for Jersey Moms Blog.

Since I’ve been “home alone” for a while now, I’ve spent considerable time ruminating over the state of my house.  My intent has been to assess what we need done to the house in order to make it viable to a potential buyer.  At first, I think my husband B didn’t want to budge.  That is until his “man cave” disappeared and became our room.

Our children shared a room for about four years which displeased me although I knew it to be temporary.  B moved his computer down to our small living room and purchased me a laptop, getting rid of the old clunker I used in his “cave”.  Now J resides in our freshly painted former room, and our daughter E’s room reverted back to single occupancy.

However, I’ve noticed when our family is all home, especially on a rainy Saturday, that we feel cramped and invade each other’s space.  B sits at his computer while I park myself on our couch with a book.  Our kids fight over the limited space in our back den.  B gets riled up by the kids loudly playing or arguing; I spy him playing an adults-only video game and reprimand him; he snarls at me; and the kids beg for a snack or camp out on the couches, squishing me into the cushions.  No one seems to get the privacy and space we need. [Read more...]