I woke up at 1am (CST) and started getting ready for our trip. Due to circumstances beyond my control, it was almost 7pm before our plane was in the air. I slept for about six or seven hours of the 9 hour plane ride. Upon landing, we began the process of figuring out the next leg of our journey. One of the men we were traveling with kindly offered to drive us there. We accepted and drove to an airport where my sister-in-law picked us up, at around 11:30am, 34 hours after our journey started.
We hung out with them, had lunch, the kids (mine and her four cousins) went to the park with my sister-in-law while I scoured the internet for bargain tickets for the next part of our journey and then we had supper. The kids finally went to bed and my brother-in-law and his wife and I sat up and talked. It was about 9:30 and I was starting to yawn and was moments from heading to bed when my sister-in-law leans forward and asks, “So, Ivana, I have to ask. How’re you with the Lord?”
What. The. Fuck.
I’ve been traveling for the last 44 hours, during which I’ve gotten six, maybe seven hours of sleep on a cargo plane, laying across seats, dealt with an airsick child, dealt with the heartbreak of turning around and landing where we started once before trying again, dealt with traveling “on the fly” and you are going to spring this on me now?
I answered as well as I could but I honestly can’t remember exactly what I said. Then they proceeded to attack me. I’m sure that they don’t see it that way but they asked me questions and when I said, “I don’t know” (because that’s nicer than “I don’t really give a fuck” and I didn’t want them to kick me out at 10 o’clock at night), said, “You have to have an answer.”
My husband is in the process of “talking” to his brother about these things and they grilled me about what he meant when he said this or that. His brother seemed to think that Sterling is purposely hiding things from him. They kept asking, “How do you explain your daughter’s imagination and her ability to communicate so clearly?”
I didn’t think of this at the time, because I was fucking exhausted, but now I think, “Because we worked our asses off for it, you idiot!” We put up with constant questions, long winded stories that we don’t interrupt, and regularly realizing that we don’t know the answers to very many things. We try really hard to answer every question that our daughter asks us, even when it’s inconvenient or awkward (Daddy, what’s sex?). She is the way she is because WE WORKED FOR IT! Not, as they implied, because of a god that made her that way. Their kids are freak-automatons with no imagination because their parents are unimaginative and so stuck in tradition that they wouldn’t know an imagination if it kicked them in their teeth.
I, in hindsight, am so incredibly pissed off. WHO THE FUCK DO THEY THINK THEY ARE?
We sat in on their “devotions,” which consisted of the mom asking a question, such as “Who made you?” The kids would then answer in, I kid you not, robotic voices, “God. Made. Me.” “Who made the world?” “God. Made. Everything. In. The. World.” and so on and so on. It was creepy as hell.
And then they have the audacity to suggest that my daughter’s imagination is the result of a god who wants his “children” to robotically recite “truths.” Fuck that.
Anyway, my lovely husband is in the process of telling his brother to take a flying leap and leave us alone. We will NOT be staying with them again. I don’t care if we have to fly across the world the other way, my daughter will not stay another night in the house of a man that thinks god gives imaginations but also thinks that the right way to raise kids is to have them recite rote memorizations. Duh.

