So I had a fill this week, lifting the amount in the band to 5 mls. I didn't get my lovely surgeon this time. It was a lady doctor who was, quite frankly, a little rough and, as a result, the fill hurt a bit. But I now have restriction so I'm hoping to see some decent loss. When I got weighed at the surgery, I was back up at 109.8kgs! Terrible stuff.
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What I am not happy about is some stuff at home. Since I don't really have an outlet to nonsensically rant in real life, I'm sorry for the next few paragraphs. They are not weight related. I just need to get this stuff of my chest, onto paper and, in doing so, hopefully get it out of my system!
My brother is staying with me until Tuesday, when he goes back to the US with his girlfriend. I love my brother, and I love how good he is with my boys. But sheesh, he is a spoilt, entitled brat!
Just a bit of background, my brother is my mother's favourite. Ever since we were young, she would very obviously favour my brother(she claimed, and still does, that she treated us equally, but friends and family all comment about how she dotes on him). If he even coughed in the morning, she would race him to the doctor, buy all the anti-biotics prescribed and take a week off work to stay home with him. If I vomited in the morning before school, and then vomited at school, she would leave me there until 3.30pm and then get angry with me for making a fuss.
If he did something naughty, she would apologise to him. If I did something naughty, she would not speak to me for a week. She started the silent treatment from the age of 5. As you can imagine, a small kid of 5 doesn't know or understand why mum won't talk to them. It's horrible. I can't ever imagine treating my kids that way.
Why the difference? My brother was the first boy born in the family
for generations. He was considered by my mother to be the golden
child. The child that would really do something. So
she treated him accordingly. Thankfully, I had my dad who, although
very quiet, loved me unconditionally and helped to ease any hurt I had
over my mum.
As we got older, the differences became more obvious. When I turned 14 years and 9 months (the legal age to work in Australia at the time), she said 'Ok, you're getting a job. You have to buy your own clothes and personal items from now on'. Which didn't bother me because I wanted to work. But when my brother turned 14 years and 9 months, she said he couldn't work because he might get hurt. So he got all the clothes etc, without having to work.
I had to pay for all my expenses once I got to university. At one stage, I worked three jobs just to have enough money. If I didn't have enough money, she wouldn't lend me money. 'You'll just have to stay home'. Since my brother didn't work, he never had any money. No problem, though. She would give him $100, $200 to go out.
Over time, I became angry about the differences. I never wanted the material side of it. I just wanted equitable treatment and I wanted my mum to admit that she had been unfair. My dad finally put his foot down one night and calculated how much (roughly) my brother had received over the years, versus me. It was shocking enough that my mum agreed to give us a half share in a house.
I'm now reconciled to my mother and her behaviour. I have my own family and my life is happy. That is all due, in no small part to my husband, B, who has shown me, over the 10 years we have been together, that I am special and worth something.
Ok, so what does all of this have to do with my brother. Well, because he's never really worked in his life. And because he has had everything given to him without him having to do much, he is spoilt beyond what is normal.
He and his girlfriend drink a bottle of wine in the middle of the day. No problem, they're adults and can do what they like. But they leave the bottle on the table. With their wine glasses. And my laptop strewn amongst the mess. And walk out the door. In my mum's house, my mum will happily - gratefully - clean up the golden child's mess. I, on the other hand, am irritated at the arrogance that a guest would behave so poorly in someone else's house.
They decide to cook some dinner last night. They make a complete mess of the kitchen but promise to 'do the dishes later'. They leave their wine glasses scattered in the living room. By midnight, they are snoring on the couch. B ends up doing the dishes because, realistically, we have two young sons and we don't want them getting up in the morning to see a kitchen that is filthy and wine glasses everywhere.
We go out for dinner. It comes to the bill time and they both sit there quietly. Waiting for me and B to pay. Because my brother has never really worked in his life, he has no concept about how valuable money is. We have two boys to support and a mortgage. My parents bought him his apartment and pay for his utilities. He does work, albeit not regularly. He sits there quietly, partly because he has no money but also because, in his mind, someone else always pays. He has no concept of paying for himself.
Don't get me wrong. IMy brother is funny and smart and a great uncle to my boys. But my mum has totally crippled him and doomed him to a life of being a moocher. He has zero life experience skills because my mum has paid to insulate him from reality. And he's nearly 30!
Wheww, rant over. If you got this far, you really need to take up a hobby. ;-p
