Christmas Nightmare

I have given it a day before posting the Christmas nightmare. Mama was up at 4 AM (she never needs sleep..like a Vampire.) The day started as terribly as Christmas Eve had been: “You don’t have any caffeinated coffee”. “I don’t know how you stand it so cold in here all of the time.”, “I had to be up at 4 so I could cook breakfast. These delightful conversation starters were followed by her not telling me that my baby was awake, so I missed him seeing his gifts for the first time (Mama: “I know how you love your sleep.) I wasn’t asleep, I was in my room avoiding criticism.

The kids had an amazing time and loved their gifts. I opened mine and oh my, what a disaster. Mama has this thing she does where she buys me clothes several sizes too big to imply that I am fat. (She is larger than me.) So everything she bought was an extra large or an XXL, even though I wear a medium. Mama also bought me orange clothes, which, she knows is a color that does not flatter my shade of red hair. I didn’t flinch. I just said “Thank you” and moved on. She bought me a camera, but not the one I asked for (which was inexpensive.) Mama: “Your brother says that consumer reports rated this one the best. And you have to keep it in a case, not just throw it around like you do everything else.”

We ate our breakfast casserole and my son complained that he wouldn’t be getting a real Christmas dinner. That’s when all Hell broke loose. My ex called and asked for the kids early because he was cooking at his girlfriend’s parents’ home. I thought it was a fabulous idea because it meant my kids had a chance for a normal Christmas Dinner. (My parents did not see it that way, at all.)

I don’t know what happened, but somewhere between the “You’re a piece of crap” messages, the fact my kids had to leave me to have a normal day and the stress of a holiday, I broke down. I told my parents it was time for them to go and I packed up all their food and put it in their car. I am proud of myself for being calm while Mama screamed and yelled. The baby hid under a pillow on the sofa and my oldest laid in the floor and cried. It was beyond disturbing to see my babies in such distress. I took a tranquilizer and went to bed to sleep for 5 hours. I have not spoken to them since that incident. My Dad keeps calling me, but I really don’t want to talk. I wish I had something funny to write or something funny to say, but being the family scape goat for passive-aggressive Moms just sucks. No sugar-coating that bitter pill. I told her to take her resentment to someone else on the next holiday, I want no part of it.

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I’m Dreaming of a White *Trash* Christmas…

It’s kinda bizarre how both of my brothers married women who are…well…bitches. They are different kinds of bitches, but both seem to be fueled by drama of some sort. White Trash Barbie is what I call one of them: She has white blonde hair that she insists is natural. WTB and I were great friends for about 3 months. My Mama does this dance where she wants us to be friends, then became jealous of our friendship, then split us apart by telling her that I am a “bad influence”.  Mama’s “shove people together, then rip them apart” dance.

I should digress and explain that I have  Narcissist ex-husband (Clinically, not just a term I am tossing around casually.) Before we divorced, he told my entire small town that I was a crack-whore. What he meant by “crack” is that he thought I was addicted to my computer, that I used to avoid him. What he meant by “whore” is that I no longer wanted to have sex with him (for the last several years of our marriage). He failed to clear up these code words with the Town, so it is commonly thought that I am indeed a literal crack-whore. (The fattest crack whore in history, may I add!)

So, White Trash Barbie decided to kick me while I am down because she wants my parents’ money and attention. She and I had an email- text- war a month ago and haven’t spoken at all since she initiated a fight by telling me I am worthless. 

Fast forward to Thursday night, my son’s first Christmas pageant and also my nephew’s Christmas pageant. Ultimately it was White Trash Barbie’s White Trash Christmas Pageant. (Who knew?!)  I am standing in the hallway of the daycare with 200 parents and children seated and eating a celebratory dinner. I have my 9 month old niece in my arms, when suddenly I am tackled from behind. Surprise! WTB has run into me and thank GOD I didn’t actually fall (wearing high heels) with the baby in my grip! My neck is injured, but other than that, it’s fine.  WTB takes the opportunity to snatch the baby and start screaming at me (in front of everyone in my son’s daycare) that I am a liar and a bitch. She orders me to leave and I refuse. Eventually she goes to her car as I try to get my kids to hurry up and leave. My brother was silent and followed her outside to leave.

Mama Drama Warning: I call my Mama to ask her to keep my oldest son who is being rude because he’s embarrassed and angry. Mama lies to me and tells me she is at home. I inform her I am in her driveway. She then says she is in a restaurant, and I call her bluff. I am in tears, telling her how humiliating that was for my children and she interrupts:

Mama: Can I talk to you later I have to go?

SJ: What?! I am in the middle of a story and I need you to listen.

M: I heard it. You got in a fight because y’all can’t get along and now there won’t be Christmas.

SJ: Huh?!

M: I gotta go check on your brother. I am at his house and he is devastated by what you have done.

SJ: You suck as a Mom. (hanging up.)

Ring Ring.

SJ: Hello

Dad: I am at your house and we need to figure out how you can fix this so your Mother can have one of those Christmas cards like Becky sent out.

SJ: What card?

Dad: The one with all of the kids and grandkids together.

SJ: I gotta go because my neck hurts and I need to take a tranquilizer.

I came home to a lecture about how selfish I am and how I don’t care about people. Merry Christmas, Me.  Poor kids having to deal with all this shizzle.