Things were awesome between my mother and I. I finally felt comfortable staying with her, and I felt like we could be friends. I didn't mind grabbing a pizza with her on our way home from work and watching a movie with her and just hanging out. It was great to finally feel like I had a good relationship with her, considering the circumstances.
But, no. You see, I decided that things were great and it was a good idea to not keep expecting things to go wrong because that's something the famous boy with the brown boots would do. Things would be almost perfect, and it would get scary, so he would expect something to happen and ruin it. I decided not to do that, because I figure it's easier to enjoy the moment when you're not looking over your shoulder, waiting for something bad to happen.
I should have seen it coming. I was asking for advice on what to do with the nursery and burp cloths, things of the baby nature, and she kept talking on her damn phone. Phone call after phone call, asking for recipes from people at work, and working on things with the mortgage (haha, i just realized the first part of mortgage is mort, which means dead in French, among other things... so sad... )....
Okay, back to what I was saying. Normally, I wouldn't mind that she was trying to take care of things with the mortgage and blah blah blah. In fact, it's great that she was finally doing it, and my questions weren't that important, but she kept dialing in the middle of my sentences, completely cutting me off and making me feel like I wasn't important at all. Granted, it honestly wasn't something that needed to be talked about right then, but I don't have much time left to prepare, and I wanted to get it all set up before the baby gets here, and my due date (and birthday) are six weeks away. That's not much time at all.
So randomly she decides that she wants to talk to me, finally. Here I am, being all innocent, thinking it was going to be baby stuff. This is when it starts to get sticky.
"What happened when you were a teenager and we lived in Bountiful?"
Uh... that's very clear. Nice and specific, right? Here's my response...
"You mean, when I stopped going to church?"
"Well, that's part of it, but I'm talking about when you really started to rebel. When you started lying, sneaking out, drinking and smoking... you were very rebellious. What happened? Why did you do it?"
Now, there is no honest reason why I started drinking and smoking. The big part of it is that I stopped going to church. We have had this same damn conversation over and over again, and the same thing always happens afterwards.
"Where is this conversation going this time, Mom? You've asked me these same questions over and over again, and I always give you the same response. So where is it going this time?"
"I've just been thinking about it a lot lately and wanted to know. I want to know what your plans for the future are. Are you going to drink and smoke after the baby?"
The more words that came out of her mouth, the more bitter and angry she sounded...
"My response is still going to be the same. I stopped going to church because I realized I was going just to make you happy, and I wanted to live my life for me, not for someone else. I don't know why I started drinking and smoking, and that's not the stuff that made me happy. It's the experiences I had and the people I've met from doing what I did that has made me who I am today and I would go back and do it all again. It was a long time ago, and yeah, I didn't make the best decisions all the time, but it's made me strong enough to handle this, so I don't regret a thing. And I have no plans on going back to church. But I'm not going to go out and buy a six pack and some cigarettes when the baby comes. There is nothing wrong with having a glass of wine with dinner, or grabbing cocktails with friends. I'm not going to binge drink and neglect the baby. I'm an adult, I'm not stupid."
"That's not what I asked..."
UH..... huh, whatta? When my mother gets upset and doesn't like the answers she's getting, her mind gets scrambled... her thoughts run together like someone that dumped a million different colors of paint into a bucket and threw it into a paint mixer, and it always turns into some gross color of word vomit...
"Well, I know you don't feel well all the time and you feel stranded and along here, but I come home from work and clean up your messes in the kitchen all the time. And the dogs depend on you, and you don't take them outside enough. I'll find places where they've peed while I've been gone. If you don't feel well enough and you can't clean up after yourself and take care of the dogs, then how are you going to take care of the baby? What is your plan for the future?"
She kept going on and on... and I actually made her words sound so much more organized in that little paragraph than they really were. I'm pregnant. I'm not going to feel very well all the time. She's been there when I've randomly started puking my guts up, and she still asks me to take the dogs out in the snow and ice while she takes a bubble bath.
I clean the kitchen all the time. Not only do I clean my messes, but I also clean up her shit all the time. I don't mind taking the dogs out. Not at all. But when you get mad at me because I can't take the dogs out every single time you ask me, when you are perfectly capable of taking them out yourself, it's bull shit. They aren't even my dogs. They're hers! She doesn't do much to take care of them. She doesn't show them any attention, she doesn't feed them... the only thing she does is pay for the vet bills and sleep with one of them every night. And she has talked about getting rid of them because they're too much work for her... Sometimes I feel like she's just taking advantage of the fact that I'm here so do shit that she doesn't want to do. Like walk her dogs.
But that's not even the stuff that bothers me... What bothers me, is the fact that she is comparing me taking care of her dogs and cleaning the kitchen to taking care of a baby. My baby. Like, I'm not going to be responsible enough to take care of her or something. Are you kidding me? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?
"I don't know exactly what my plan is for the future, Mom. I'm just trying to do what I can to get the baby here safely and make sure I have the things I need for her. Then I'll focus on what else I can do. But I know the baby is going to come first, always. You know I want to go to school and become a nurse, but that's a little more in the future. Right now, I need to work on saving the money for the baby and getting ready to have her here, and then figure out how it's possible to move out and get school taken care of."
"You're and adult now, and you've been making your own choices for a long time. But I'm just trying to have an adult conversation with you. Are you planning on drinking and smoking after the baby is born?"
Are you KIDDING ME?!?!
"I'm not planning on smoking, but I may have one here and there. And yeah, I would like to drink with my friends. But I already told you all that."
"I just want to know what your plans for the future are because I'm going to have to pay for it and deal with it. All the choices you made in the past, I've had to deal with."
Then her phone rang, and she answered it. I waited a couple minutes, and she was still talking, so I went downstairs to work on more stuff in the nursery.
It's really funny, because all day yesterday, I had been writing thank you notes to everyone that came to my baby shower, thanking them for all the support and for just being there. I'm glad I got so many gifts too, but I was more overwhelmed with the fact that these people were there. And the one person I needed to support me the most, was showing that she pretty much doubted me the entire time.
Oh, but it doesn't stop there. Not one bit.
This morning, at 5:00 am, she comes down to leave for work. Luckily I was already awake so I could pee... again. I don't sleep very much these days, because, I don't know, I'm PREGNANT.
"Can you take the dogs out?"
I don't say anything. Partly because I didn't want to, and the other part was because I was finally sick all the way. I was starting to get sick a couple days before, and it just got worse, until I got up this morning and I could tell I was sick sick.
"I know you're upset with me, but I'm just trying to figure out what's going on and what your plans for the future are."
I still don't say anything.
"I'm just trying to make things comfortable in my house again."
I couldn't hold it in anymore...
"Things were comfortable. Every time things are good, you want to talk about the same things and the same thing always happens. And that's what makes things uncomfortable." My voice croaks out...
"You can say whatever you want and speak your mind, but when I do it ruins everything? You don't think about the consequences about the things that you say to me."
"I haven't spoken my mind about anything! You ask me the same questions, and I give the same answers. I haven't had anything I needed to speak my mind about for anything."
"I know you are emotional, and that you were emotional yesterday..."
"I'm NOT crying! I'm sick, like I told you yesterday morning that I was coming down with something. My throat is raw, and I don't feel good at all. I haven't been crying."
"Well, your throat is sore because you haven't been saying what you need to say."
I hook her dogs up to their leashes and watched her drive away.
What the hell....
So things with my mom are back to how they were. I don't feel emotionally safe staying here, and now I'm convinced that she's going to try to make me raise my daughter her way or I'll have to leave. I'm hoping I don't have to stay long
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