Revival of the Unholy Spirit

Finally, I was forced to interact with The Motha aka Mama. I have avoided her since the Christmas drama (and no I don’t refer to the church play). It was the baby’s birthday and I have never had him a REAL party. So, I earned a few hundred dollars and was able to give him a Fro-Yo party. Mama was not consulted at all about the party, but I did send her an evite. The day before the event, she calls to ask who was coming and what did I plan on doing. I mean, with me being a complete idiot, I bet I couldn’t figure out how to let the Fro-Yo girlies show everyone how to dispense their frozen yogurt and add their own toppings. The party was fun but awkward in that Mama did not attempt to interact with  my two friends who attended. (There was a total of  8 people there and 2 kids other than mine.) Mama would never act like that with anyone else, but because they are my friends, she happens to think they are worthless and unworthy of common courtesy. The sad part is her complete lack of insight into her own behavior. But just like a crap cupcake with sprinkles, Mama keeps serving up what no one would possibly be able to digest.

Birthday-isms a la Mama:

“Malingan, Micnlanga, Michigan, you are really pretty. I am sorry I never can get y’all’s names right.” (Yep, you guessed it…my friend is black and her name is beautiful! Malana. Really? How difficult is that? I swear, Mama is the ultimate ignorant Cracker Attacker. UGH.)

“You have done a wonderful job with those kids. They just have the best manners. You can really tell when a Mother truly enjoys teaching her children good manners.” (An obvious jab at me and makes me wonder what that says about my Grandma…)

After the party Mama insists on coming to the house so that she can organize the baby’s toys from Christmas. She has bought 10-15 boxes to store things in and is on a mission to organize me away. Haha. We are sitting in the floor of the playroom, helping the baby with his trains when I askhim if he loved his train cake. The baby hugged me and kissed me and said it was the best cake ever. Mama looks at me in that moment and says “Where’s the $1000.00 you owe me for the house payment?” Ok the house is a whole other blog, but the short version is that we own the house together. After my divorce, I could no longer afford it because my entire salary per month wouldn’t cover it. I have offered to move out so they could rent it, I have offered to sell it, I have offered everything I can thin k of to help. Nothing changes the fact that until i finally get some child support, I can’t afford it.

It gets worse. In order to earn extra money, I have been working in a job that is well, demoralizing, to put it politely. I have to travel with men (usually older) and go with them to events and they give me gifts. I will allow your imagination to fill in the blanks. Mama knows about these trips. She also knows that the last one paid for the party. How sad that my own Mother thinks it’s okay to ask for money that she knows I earned in a difficult situation (We are talking all day, all night for an entire weekend you are entertaining, talking to, dining with etc someone you may or may not even like.)  So she starts screaming about how I need to be paying for myself and I am screaming back that I am doing everything I can working 2 jobs, but that my entire check wouldn’t cover the house payment. I pay all of the other bills, but can’t cover that much, yet. The baby starts crying and I end up making her leave. In true Mama style, she stands in the front yard for 45 minutes waving to the baby through the window. I texted her and told her she ruins every special day and that I had worked hard for the money to give my baby a party. Mama came back in and played innocent…”I don’t know why you think it’s my fault.”

We need a renewal. A revival. Something to jolt her out of my immediate vicinity.

 

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Christmas Eve..And I’m Out of Eggnog!

So, Mama announces that she and My Dad are coming to MY house to spend the night for Christmas Eve. Never asks if  I have plans. My Mama is angry in a passive aggressive way and has basically been ignoring me for weeks. I would say that our relationship is almost back to rock bottom again. I think it will never recover. So, Christmas Eve she is staying at my house and the plan was Christmas lunch at her house. 

Did someone say plan? Well, after being avoided all day, my son decides to take matters into his own hands. He gets on his bike and rides to my brother and White Trash Barbie’s house. My son discovers that my parents are there and not answering his calls. At 7:45 PM, Mama shows up asking why I didn’t cook her a dinner. (Earlier in the day, she told me she was bringing food.) Mama immediately starts bitching about dinner. I pointed out numerous times that I had cooked BBQ pork, mac-n-cheese and baked beans. This is when she informs me that she wanted a real Christmas meal because she was only cooking breakfast tomorrow. I can only assume that the change in attitude is related to her visit with my brother and WTB.

Mama is at my house 10 minutes and starts throwing away EVERYTHING IN THE FREEZER! I just went to Sam’s Wholesale, but never you mind that pesky fact. Bronze Goddess is angry and needs control, so today it is the freezer. I have lots of new Mama-isms that I kept special for y’all…as a gift of sorts:

Mama : “This freezer is disgusting, I can tell you have just totally let it go for months or longer.”

SJ: Ok. Well (my ex-boyfriend) and I just cleaned it out.

Mama: (To my 2 year old son…after I told him he can’t dig in the freezer anymore) “I am going to put all the food you are looking for in the front so you don’t have to dig to feed yourself. I know you have to find your own food a lot.”

SJ: The food in the freezer is raw, I hardly think it’s appropriate to put raw meat where he will eat it.”

At this point I went to my room and got on the phone until the kids were asleep so I could do the Santa thing. I finally got all of the gifts arranged and came out to find she had put all of her gifts in front of the Santa gifts. Oh dear. The little things to a Narcissist are like the himalayas. Let HER climb that mountain. I am exhausted.

Turkey Talk

Things My Mama said over Thanksgiving weekend:

***Message: You’re dirty and a Terrible Mom***

Scenario: My boyfriend is on my way over and Mama stops by

“Are you going to clean up your house?”

Me: “No, I am just folding laundry. He probably knows I have to do that at some point.”

“I envy you. I don’t know how you do it.”

Me: “What? be a single Mom?”

“No, have someone over in your messy house. It’s amazing. Your brother inherited that from me. He NEVER lets anyone come over without his house being perfect.”

Summary: the show Everybody Loves Raymond is so close to being what my family is like. My brother, is always perfect; Clean house, and all.

***Message: You never know what your kids want and you’re a terrible Mom***

Scenario: Black Friday 10 PM on the day after I went to the Doctor for bronchitis and a double ear infection following the flu

“I think he (my oldest son) needs a tablet and an XBOX 360.”

Me: “he has a Wii and a netbook he doesn’t use”

“Kids need to change video games to feel good. They like that. Remember your brother? He always changed video games. It’s normal.”

Me: “Whatever, I don’t remember my brother’s video game habits. But, I guess I can get an Xbox.”

“He comes from a divorced family. An Xbox will make him happy. Walmart has one on sale at 10:oo, so go get in line. I tried to buy one cheap on Amazon, but I have had to buy your kids so many gifts in the past few days, I guess they (Amazon) wouldn’t let it go through because I have spent so much.” [HUH?!!]

Me: “Well, can’t we find one online? They always seem to have teasers and I don’t feel great so I hate to get there and they are gone.”

“Well I will pay for half, but I can’t afford those except at the Black Friday Sale”

Me: “Ummmm ok I guess I will go up there.”

I go to Walmart and they are sold out of Xboxes, so I call Mama to see if I should still buy the discounted games if I am not sure that I will be able to find a system.

Me: “Hey they are sold out so I guess I shouldn’t buy the games.”

“Well, the one that came with the one I bought is sports.”

Me: “What? What one you bought?”

“The one on Amazon. They decided to let me buy it this morning.” [OMFG!]

Me: “Mom, why am I in the Walmart at 11:30 Pm if you have one?”

“Amazon wasn’t sure it would let the purchase go through.”

Summary: OMG really?! Sick in the store being pushed around for her amusement. Priceless.

 
 

Thanksgiving Terror

Let me begin by saying I am thankful that my Mama is still alive.

Hopefully, that absolves me from what I am about to write. Today is Thanksgiving day. As of yesterday, I had no plans. I called my Mom to tell her that the kids and I are going to a Pow Wow. Authentic Native American dancing and music is on the agenda for a family-free Turkey Day! Well, Mama informs me that she has no plans. My brother and his wife are supposedly going to her family’s house. I am now obligated to invite her and my dad to my Family-Free Day. I owe her, though, so I feel like I am still getting a deal after all of the Thanksgiving dinners she has cooked for me.

Fast Forward to Thanksgiving. This morning, Mama and Dad are an hour late to pick us up. She has decided to not cook lunch today and instead called me at 6:30 last night to come over and eat “Thanksgiving Dinner”. Huh?!! Anyway, I went and ate and pretended like the Chinet wasn’t weird. Typically, my Mama creates a table out of Southern Living. She is the BEST cook ever and always uses linen napkins. Last night, we ate Thanksgiving dinner on Chinet…and not on Thanksgiving. 

So, This morning they are late. Mama shows up huffing and puffing, screamin’ and shoutin’ and telling us all how awful we are. She even made the baby cry and he is usually perfect in her eyes. She is obviously in a mood and what I can’t figure out is why I am the one to have the joy of dealing with it?

So we are in for a 2 hour drive, with the kids arguing in the back seat. My Mama wedged in between them (and I do mean wedged!) Meanwhile she is going on about how my oldest son needs to learn to behave and stop “being rowdy.” Ok, my oldest has ADHD and is not easy to deal with after an hour. However, he does not need a running commentary on how awful he is at everything. She is also saying a “What you need to do….” speech. Mama is known for these as she always has an opinion on what you need to do. I am just feeling sick that my poor son has to listen to how great she is and how awful his behavior is.

We FINALLY make it to the restaurant and we are required to wait an hour and a half to be seated. Two children running around, my Dad scwling and Mama trying to win at the casino. She is seriously sitting at a slot machine while telling the baby “I love you, but don’t get on the carpet or the police will get you.” HUH?!” Who stops in a casino and waits to hours to eat with 2 small kids in tow?! I am thankfully on my tranquilizer and manage to tune out until we are seated.

We are all surrounded by giant mounds of food when Mama decides it is time to share that my sis in law refused to come to Thanksgiving because of an argument we had. The Sister-in-Law texted me and proceeded to tell me how I suck. (she is from a part of my state that encompasses where they filmed Deliverance…I suspect that, anyway.) I stood up for myself and have thus, caused another family feud (there’s a reason they named that show FF!). So, in the retaurant, on Thanksgiving Day, My Mama decides to vent on me.  Oh my goodness! I don’t want to even think about Christmas!  

Don’t forget the Turkey!

So, I get a call from Mama while I am knee-deep in work drama. I  work in a crisis-oriented field and my Mama hasn’t figured out I don’t have time to chit-chat all day. Anyway, she calls to tell me she has left the Baby’s “Turkey paper” on the counter and has left a note for me.  The “Baby” is my 2 almost 3 year old son. Apparently, the Baby’s preschool has started giving homework and I have neglected my Turkey assignment. 

I wake up at 5 AM in the morning, get my sons ready and go to work by 7:15 AM. I work all day, pick up the kids at different daycare/afterschool programs and maybe get home by 6:15 PM. This night, I get to go to Hobby Lobby to let the baby pick out things to decorate his turkey paper. So, I get home at 7:15 after shopping for “Turkey Monkeys” and stopping st Firehouse for subs. Turkey Monkeys are what the Baby chose to decorate his decorate his turkey. For $4 I bought 8 glittery monkeys and assorted bananas for my 2 year old to stick on a poorly drawn turkey paper.

The note from Mama attached states: Please try not to forget to help the Baby decorate his Turkey. His teacher said she gave this to you several weeks ago. He was the only child in the class who didn’t decorate a pumpkin! (This was back in October, but serves as a good jolt when she needs it.)

This is a typical Mama Drama and contains all the essential elements:

1. My predictable inadequacy.

2. A reference to an undiagnosed form of  “Dumbass Daughter Dementia” that my Mama thinks prevents me from remembering anything.

3. A big, heaping helping of guilt. Homecooked by Mama’s love.

4. A dramatic gesture. (In this case, she drove to my house to leave the paper on the counter versus leaving it in his cubby at school.)

5. Some measure of her Goodness by which we may contrast my Badness.

I wonder how my children will ever survive me. The trauma of an inadequate Mama!