Or should I better say their lack of tact? I guess that's okay and almost apropo since the blog name is "or just say it" which my mother so often does and rarely thinking if she hurts my feelings. This is why just the thought of my mother visiting makes me wince. Yes, while others are so happy to have their mothers around, I'm so happy to have her not around. Don't get me wrong. I want her happy and healthy just not around me especially not around me to make me feel bad.
You see mommy dearest (not quite) is attached the most to me the youngest of 3 other half siblings. She is not attached to me because she loves me the most. She is not attached to me the most because she might think since I'm the youngest I might need help, quite the contrary. She thinks she's done a lot for me (discussion for another time). She is attached to me because out of the four, I am the only one who is fool enough to take her around to do her errands, cook for her, take her out, try to have a decent relationship and pretends to be a caring daughter. I try, I try but it is so hard. It is so hard when while you try, you get knocked down from everything about your personal being, life, job and choices is so often criticized. I never seem to do right by my mother's standards.
Of course, how can I? I was born the ugly duckling, first off. Yes, my mother was a beauty queen in her age. Her other children (my half siblings) also inherited these starlet traits. This, to my mother is the most highest of rankings. Secondly, most of my half siblings (whom are also significantly older and have times to establish themselves) are well off or have done well for themselves, obviously without my mom's help. Third off, the more estranged any of her children are to my mother, the more she pines for their attention and craves their love and thus, has forever stamped "UNCONDITIONAL APPROVAL" of. Me, on the other hand, I was born ugly.
Yes, I inherited the blotchy breakout skin, course curly mousy brown hair on my father's side, round face, small squinty eyes and a bulbous nose. I did not inherit my mother's side of the four generations of German fair skin ancestry nor the green or blue eyes. For years, as a young child, I would cry kneeling in front of my mother begging her to tell me the truth about my adoptive parents. I could not believe that I was born of this woman who had other goddess-like daughters whose shoes I would never fit. Good grades, smarts and a nice personality just never seemed to me to be quite enough.
And then, it became the always "I'm just not good enough for you." I really really and to this day, some 40 years after ward I feel the same. I'm that little girl with the blotchy breakout skin, course curly mousy brown hair, round face, squinty eyes and bulbous nose (and now very overweight) feeling very inadequate.
Which leads me to...since my mom came back for her yearly trip. She has long retired, moved back home but yearly wants to take a vacation WITH ME spending time sleeping, eating, and shopping at my house for not 2 weeks, one month but for at times, up to three months! This time, she dares to insinuate she is staying until New Years (that's almost four months)! This is going to be a long winter.So, obviously I avoid her as much as possible. It helps believe me so I can do the things that she needs me to do for her and so I don't become the bitch that I want to be at the drop of a word. Then, there's always the guilt that I feel when I come home and I go straight to me room and avoid talking to her and at times, go to sleep with just only saying "good night" to her for the whole day.
How horrible can that be? Last night was a prime example why I do that. I was holed up in my room and she obviously felt the need to be concerned that I was on the computer working at such a late hour. She came in and sat on my bed while I twiddled on my computer. She asked if I had an pictures for her to see of the kids because my other sibling had showed her so many of her family when my mother went over. Of course, I felt obliged to have to show her. Most of the pics I really liked, I didn't want to show her since they are mostly of my husband's family, the family that has loved and adopted me as one of their own for 16 years. The family that is there for me when I feel down or have no where to go. The family that shows my children love. Therefore, I showed some of the crappy pictures I had and occasionally some of my husband's family would show up and I could see my mother's look of discontent and biting her lip.
But, then there was the picture of me. I saw her when she saw one of my children and my self and she didn't say anything. BUT I SAW. I saw. That was enough. I knew I looked large in that picture and most unattractive. I knew she saw that. But, she made light conversation saying how wonderful my half sister looked now that she had lost so much weight, that it had taken years off her age.
" Oh Lord, I know where this is heading.."
There came my mother's remark "ewwwwwwwww, who the heck is that?"
I was like "what do you mean?"
She replied "who is that woman? She is so ugly."
Silence. "That's me." Explanations followed - my hair was pulled back, my grey hair was showing, I had the big sunglasses on, the picture was too up close since I took if of my self and more.
Then, came the
" Gaaawwwwwd, what can I do for you? How can you lose weight? How can I help you lose weight? All the health repercussions. Seriously, you have to eat less" and on and on and on. All I could do was sink further in my chair. It was too good to be true to be holed up in my only sanctuary of the house and she had to come in an invade it and bring down the walls of my personal and mental safety.
It was this easily done as the not buying the coconut custard pie in front of my mom. Which by the way, moments before...I was grabbing a bowl of cereal when she also noted that I was eating way too much cereal so late at night and I should skip those bowls of cereal. I needed to eat less. I needed not to eat. I needed to eat only cereal. I needed. I needed.
Where were you ever when I needed you woman? Where were you when I was teased in elementary school? Where were you when I pondered suicide so many times growing up? Where were you when I needed a loving mother and friend? You are certainly the one that never had a kind word, that didn't think twice to slap me, pull my hair, hit me with whatever came to your hand and control my every movement. And yet, you still insist to be near me to beat me down which ever way you want even more so with your looks and actions now.
I remembered Squirrel. I remembered the coconut custard pie. I screamed back " a truck runs over me tomorrow, I will seriously regret not eating this bowl of warm milk and froot loops." To which mommy dearest jabbered a whole row of retorts to which I didn't listen to as I went up to my whole. Which she later invaded. And the comment of my ugliness.
No wonder I woke up having had nightmares with her. And no lie, in the nightmare, I was so angry with her, I was choking her. Wow.
I think now, mothers and their tongues. I know where my venom comes from and its not pretty. I can do so much damage with the hissing of my tongue. I need to reflect on that. Slither back into some hole in the ground next time I intend such vile remarks upon my children and tear down those personal walls of safety and security and bring down their inner being. I hurt. I'm sorry kids. I know I have hurt you. I'm sorry.
Therefore, right now. Exhale. Wipe my eyes.
Think. I'm better than this. I can do better. I'm not perfect. I am certainly not the best mother but I can do better.
- MEOW MEOW
4) I'd like to see a movie by my self but my motivation is about at a reading of 0. So is my pocket. 'Sides I can just wait for the Second Hangover.
It's a book I've read countless of times and I don't know why it calls me constantly. I gave my last and recent copy to my niece. She says she's having a hard time reading it. I don't know, maybe I shouldn't have given it to her. She said she enjoyed fiction. This is fiction but I like the final hidden message. She may not be into that.