Not Everything Needs to Be Shared

Hello? Hello? Anyone there?

Last week we talked about how sometimes I suck at communication with the girls and the ways that I’ve overcome some of those malfunctions and the tricks that I have learned. At the end of the piece, it may have seemed as if I contradicted point one, make sure everyone knows everything, with point three, not everyone in the family needs to know everything. However, each point was referring to something else in that all-encompassing word “everything”. Everyone does need to know each other’s schedules and important dates, so that we can make sure we don’t over book ourselves. We need to know the highlights of each other’s day and when someone is hurting, so that we can join in the celebration or hold them up until the trial passes. Still, in our family, sometimes staying silent is better. The trick is to know when not to communicate something.

Now, before we go any further, allow me to stress that I am not referring to keeping secrets. Secrets can kill a relationship and usually means someone is doing something they shouldn’t be. If this is happening, then your relationship already has major issues.

The Communication Malfunction

What did you want again?

“Don’t forget the Clarks are coming over today,” I said to Char on our daily lunch conversation.

“Oh? When did this happen?”

“Tuesday. Remember? I told you that Teri had set it up and we were going to do a game night thing.” I already knew how the rest of this conversation was going to play out, but I had to keep going anyway. You would think I’d learn by now, surrender, and just get my apology over with. I’m stubborn when it comes to learning things, however.

“Um, no, you never told me. Must have been Sarah.”

“I’m sure I told you. I tell each of you everything. I know the trouble I get in if I don’t.” And I was once again in trouble, because I hadn’t told her. You would think I would have this problem under control by now and, to be honest, I do try. However, the problem is once I’ve told one of them, my mind registers that I’ve said it and promptly shifts it to the back of my brain where it floats with everything else I’ve forgotten to tell one of them. You see, when it comes to communication, my brain sometimes is my worst enemy and, therefore, I have to create new ways of getting myself out of trouble. Sometimes it even works.

The Balance of More Equals Less

We want our home to be welcoming to all

It was our decision, but with that decision finally made, it forced other things upon us that dictated our course. We chose to live together under one roof, to be a family united and not divided by separate homes. We want to share couches while watching murder and mayhem on the television. We want to gather around the same table every night for dinner and discuss our day. We want to be there for each other for the happy as well as the sad as life unfolds and not have to wait until the next time we see each other. One home. One family.

Now, ideally this would be a mansion with vast amounts of space and an abundance of rooms. At the minimum, each of the girls would have their own individual room in order to escape the chaos of a full house once in a while. Each room would be decorated according to their own tastes and needs. Perhaps a table for their arts and crafts, an easel for painting, a recliner to kick back and read or simply a loveseat to take a quiet nap on would fill their room. Shelves would be filled with the things they like to collect and walls covered in paintings that sparked something within them. However it was decorated, it would be their own personality creating their private sanctuary.

“I’d Rather Share My Husband”

It’s about to happen again. We’re moving. Although we’re not looking forward to the chaos and disorder that comes from packing up a house and hauling it across town, we are eager to be living back on the beach. The problem is going to come when we begin to arrange the furniture and decorate. Most couples have no problem doing this. The woman decorates and the man keeps his mouth shut and signs the checks. 

However, I live with three ladies, who I affectionately call my girls, who have similar, and yet, varying tastes. They also run the gamut from very conservative and formal to eclectic and bright. My job, other than signing the checks, is to attempt to keep a balance between it all as well as tempers from being flared. It’s all part of living together in our home.