Oldernowiser

This is going to sound weird, but I hope it didn’t. I grew up in a household where we were all responsible for my father’s happiness...and lack thereof. Mostly lack thereof. We tiptoed around and hid in our rooms and dreaded the moment his car pulled into the driveway. And the dynamic lasted until his death in his nineties. He screamed at me about my job when they came to visit me when I was already in my fifties...screamed and insulted me to the point where my sweet husband was very close to decking him. They finally went home...and my mother emailed me to tell me I needed to write my father a letter about how much I loved him. Sound familiar? So I hope it didn’t work. I hope it failed and Jill continues to fall down the black hole of her narcissism. Mostly I hope her kids learn that they are NOT responsible for her manic highs and lows, that they can leave her to it because it’s all hers. She’s creating a whole generation of pathological codependents and it will haunt them forever. Honestly, my best hope for them is that they’re removed from that house and the children get the help they need.

I’m still stuck on her rhyming “holy” and “folly.” If NotNurie wrote that, she did it at gunpoint. I’m hoping it was only at psychological gunpoint, but hey, it’s Jill. These poor kids are so screwed.

I don’t even know where to begin. I just hope this ludicrous screed of ignorance means she gets to eat today.

Oh, sweetie. I wish I could relieve your pain, even a little.

Hunh. Me, either. My husband listens to NPR a lot but I can’t stand the constant noise. Are you an HSP, Highly Sensitive Person? I am and I think that has much to do with it. Well, that and I’m a huge fan of silence in general. I go into homes where the television is on continuously and I want to run away after ten minutes. Put me in a store with a loud soundtrack and I leave. Yes, I’m weird.

This has nothing to do with anything but I read it and have laughed maniacally for about six minutes now, so just in case anyone finds it as funny as I do... The Color of The Year

I think it’s worse than that...they think babies are God’s merit badges. The more you get the more God likes you better than other people. Hence the bragging. And the palpable neglect of children once they stop being infants.

Exactly. Pray harder, you selfish weasels. Never mind who’s dying of a heart attack because you’re taking up a bed because you wouldn’t wear a mask. Never mind the healthcare staff who are risking their lives and their sanity trying to do the impossible with no help, not enough PPE, and who’ve been dealing with lies from self-serving politicians since March. I can’t with those sanctimonious assholes. I just can’t.

When I am Queen of the Universe I will make it illegal for pretentious assholes to own retrievers of any kind.

Is it possible your husband set it up to have the code go to his phone?

I really wonder about that Plexus goop. There was a drug that was sold in OTC diet pills in the 90s...ephedrine. It was usually combined with a high dose of caffeine. Two of those and you’d jitter yourself crazy all day long. Throw in some aspartame and food coloring and you’ve got yourself a chemical cocktail I wouldn’t flush down my toilet lest it enter the ground water. I know they claim it’s “all natural” but who’s checking, really? And ephedrine was originally derived from plants. Ergo, “natural.” I checked and Plexus is not reviewed by the FDA. Who knows what’s in it. I looked up ephedrine: ”Among some of the more dangerous side effects associated with ephedra/ephedrine use are: Elevated blood pressure Heart attack Irregular or rapid heart rate Psychosis Seizure Stroke.” Jill always seems to veer between flatline and mania. It may just be who she is, but I wonder about that crap she’s sucking down...and supposedly feeding her daughters.

I don’t think it’s about sheltering...it’s about controlling. These men (and Jill) want a fiefdom...an endless parade of obeisance and ass kissery. It reflects something that is very wrong with their psyches. Run, Timmy, run.

Starbucks parking lot? I’ve used that before.

Damn. That’s perfect.

I really, really need a rage face reaction. None of these come close to expressing my contempt for this jackass. 😠

Poor stupid schmuck.

Anyone tech-savvy enough to discern the meta data on those “gym” posts?

Well there’s a rogue’s gallery.

This is why, as much as I enjoy a good schadenfreude feast, I’m worried about what will happen to those kids if Mommy’s follower numbers collapse. She’s got that manic lunatic thing going and I could easily see her losing her shit all over those kids.

Well, if that doesn’t fit the definition of “horse’s ass” I don’t know what does. Even the horse looks skeptical.

Okay, I’m an ignoramus when it comes to social media. Which I am just fine with. But would it be possible for Jill to have some kind of psycho cottage industry going having her children create SM accounts under multiple email addresses and then have them follow her? If there’s money to be had, I could see her doing this in half a heartbeat.

Not me. I wanted them to have one son who’s six feet tall and tattooed by the time he’s twelve, thinks sports are for assholes, vacuums as a hobby, and converts to Buddhism. I also wanted them to have a gay son who’s six feet tall and out by the time he’s twelve, think sports are for assholes, wants to be a professional chef and converts to Kabbalah. I wanted them to adore their mother and think their dad is full of shit. The last thing RFP needs in life is a fan club of three women staring up at him adoringly. Gag. Boob is an asshole. The End.

This is an excellent point, @Mindthinkr. You might want to ask yourself if there’s a reason in your past that makes you susceptible to being exploited? My father was a tyrant but my mother always backed him up. So I grew up believing that if someone was angry, it was my fault and that I should do anything I could to make them happy. Needless to say, there are lots of people out there who are more than happy to take advantage of that. This guy is a tyrant. Asking yourself why you accommodate that can be very helpful...for me, it took a kickass therapist (all 4’8” and 95 pounds of her) to help me understand that my needs and wants matter, too, no matter how big a tantrum a tyrant wants to throw. YOU MATTER. Try to remember that?

I wish I could say I’m surprised.

Oh, yes. We lived for nine hellish months in an apartment a few years ago and the woman upstairs did laundry all.night.long. Every night. In the 80s vintage apartment-sized washer/dryer combo that took an hour to wash and an hour to dry. Did I mention it was right over our bedroom? You have my deep sympathy.