I was watching an old episode of Charmed and I could not help but get a little depressed while watching. Obviously, as the girls are sisters, there is a fair bit of fighting yet there are these moments between them that I cannot help but to be jealous of. There are instances of true friendship between them where they whisper secrets and hold hands. They know they can rely on one another and share confidences.

I am really jealous. I will admit it. When Piper and Phoebe held hands while running off and giggling, I cried because it is something I have never had and something I fear I never will.

When I got married, I went from having one sister, to having two. Both my sister and sister-in-law have a way of making me feel lacking. I live ten minutes away from my own sister and yet only see her when my parents visit from out of state and only talk to her when my mother forces the issue as she does not usually take my call.

I want the sister relationship I see or the one I read about in books. I want to be able to confide things that I may feel comfortable telling CJ yet know he could do without such feminine knowledge.

All I know is I will do my damnedest to be sure my children have a better relationship. *Here’s to hoping*

Today Was Difficult…

I no longer have a place at the kids’ table; my son now occupies that space. I am a mother, homeowner, have my BS, but am still not qualified to sit at the adult table. Why is it then, that while I am only qualified to be in this awkward limbo, I am forced to suffer a strange and uncomfortable sharing of information?

I do not need intimate details of aunt and uncle infidelity and divorce. I do not wish to hear unemployment histories and financial difficulties. I am not “old enough” to join them, yet they seek me out. I know it is not for my wisdom – I have not lived as long as they have or seen as much. I know it is only for my sympathy. Unfortunately, there are many times when I do not wish to give it.

I know more things about certain people than I think I should know. How can I be expected to be a good member of the younger generation when I have these secrets I need to keep? If I cannot be at the adult table, then please, LEAVE ME OUT. Let me stay in limbo; playing with the kids and keeping my rose colored glasses as far as pasts and presents of the adults are concerned.

I am so tired of not telling one person this, another person that, etc. More nights than not, I cry. Most of those nights, it is not for myself or my own problems, but something I have been told and cannot discuss to get off my chest. I cannot fix everything, yet I feel this overwhelming compulsion to do so and it is debilitating to feel this way and know that there is nothing I can do.

No more secrets. No more confessions. I am done.