————— February 16, 2015 —————

il_fullxfull.308652409 (777x438)The Epitome of Stupidity

I can’t even believe
that I’m writing this.

As most people know, I separated from my mother last March.  Yeah, it’s been almost a year.  (((((Almost.))))))  She showed up once in… June, I think?  To apologize for following us 300 miles to Great Wolf Lodge to crash our vacation, but after 40 years of being absolutely controlled, manipulated, lied to, and played by that woman, I was not exactly buying her story that she just *happened* to have reservations at the resort on the exact same MONDAY as we did, especially when it was three days after she came over and saw it on my calendar and didn’t say a thing about going there on the same day.   Yeah. Riiiiiiight.
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I forgave her for upsetting us (whatever), let her apologize to the kids for taking a wrecking ball to our vacation, but… frankly, I didn’t want her shit in my life.  ANY. MORE.  So I ignored phone messages she had Pop leave, and we had a REALLY amazingly wonderful summer/fall/winter.  No stress, no bullshit, no lies, no manipulation, no trouble.  Well… there was the phone message asking us to have pizza with them for T-day that she placed at 6pm that same night.  ((?!?!))  And there was the paper bag of presents left on our deck in a torrential downpour on Christmas Eve that was disintegrated before we found it that we had Brian take back over to their house.  But other than that absolute stupidity, we’d been scot-free and enjoying the peace.
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Then Saturday – Valentine’s Day – Lydia shouts, “Oh, no!  Grams’ van is in our driveway.”  Brian gives me a ‘Shit, what do we do?‘ look.  And I figure that would be MY cue to make a decision.  So I thought I would be kind and let her say ‘Happy V-Day’ to the kids.  I’m not a complete ogre.  And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to try to start things with her again… but it was a chance to see if she had realized she’d done wrong, and would make things right.  So I opened the door and let her in.
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It was a freakin’ disaster from moment. ONE.   First she starts with the pandering, gushing, stupidity stuff.  When nobody responds to that (we don’t want it), she started asking us about what we’d been up to.  We told her about the kitten we rescued from the snow this past week.  OH, well, SHE has a new dog, and we just HAVE to see her dog, because it has a coat and is trained to do tricks and is SO MUCH BETTER than our animals…
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And she doesn’t just go out and get the damn dog from the van.  Noooo, she has to bring in my sister, as well.  My sister, who is umbilically attached to my mother and drives me the HELL out of my mind.  We can’t see the grandparents without my sister (and most times, not without HER kids, which makes me even more angry).  And of course my sister has to use the bathroom SOOOOO bad… which, btw, is code for snooping around, with her.  Whenever my sister is over, she likes to ‘explore’ and look into my stuff.  Grates every nerve that I have.  Sure.  Go.  Whatever.
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We’re five minutes into a visit that I regret with every FIBER of my being.
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She asks about our schooling.  We tell her about the field trip we went on the day before, to see our first opera.  There was a free homeschool production of Benjamin Britton’s “Noah’s Flood” done by Opera Grand Rapids, and I got tickets for our whole family to see it, as we’d never been to a real opera before (and are studying Benjamin Britton’s “Young People’s Guide to the Orchestra” this year).  And immediately both my mom and my sister were all, “OH, well, WE already knew about THAT.  There are posters up all over town and we saw them EVERYWHERE.
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So then she asks what we’re doing, that night.  Well, we don’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day.  We were going to just watch a couple of episodes of ‘Once’… and I explained that we were working our way thru the series, although about halfway through my explanation, I realized that…  My mother reads this blog.  She already knows about our watching ‘Once’.  And sure enough, the next words out of her mouth are, “OH, isn’t that the BEST series?  WE’RE watching it TOO!!!!!  And we’re ahead of you, because we’re manic.  And we know things that are going to happen in the show that YOU don’t!!!
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Dear God:  WHY did you not stop me from opening that door?
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I wanted her gone.  NOW.  N.O.W.  She doesn’t want to go, so she hems and haws and even Pop is trying to get her out of the house, and I’m still tamping everything down and trying not to kick her hiney OUT… GAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
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Okay.  Okay.  So V-day is over, it was a try, it didn’t work… it’s done.  We move on.  Right?   WRONG.  The next morning the phone rings.  I screen all of our calls, because I don’t want to talk to my mother.  So I’m listening to the message being left, and the voice is higher pitched and talking faster than my mom usually does, and I hear the name of my newborn niece in the message.  So I think, “Oh!  It’s my sister-in-law!  She’s calling to invite us to see the baby.”   So I pick up in the middle of the message…?
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AND. IT’S. MY. MOTHER.
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Two days in a row.  Do you think that she would go slowly and carefully, give us breathing room and be respectful of us?  HECK, NO!  What are you thinking???  Don’t be stupid.  You open the door an inch, she’s got a friggin’ bulldozer to blast thru with!   I… don’t want to hear from her.  If it was my brother or his wife about the baby, yes.  And anyhow, it’s their baby… not hers.  Get off my phone line.
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(((Deep Breath.)))  Okay.  I don’t answer the phone for ANYONE, anymore.  Ever.  Now that that’s settled, it probably won’t matter, because maybe she’s got her smothering out of her system, right?  WRONG.
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This morning Brian had to take my car to work.  It’s been so cold here, and his truck wouldn’t start.  No big, I just told him to drive safe, and went back to bed.  And a half an hour later, the phone rings.
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AT SEVEN SOMETHING IN THE FREAKIN’ MORNING.
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Now… my first thought is, “Oh, crap… Brian’s got car troubles.  Or maybe is in a ditch.”  So I scramble out of bed, listening thru our pre-recorded phone message, wishing I’d turned the volume way down on it, because it’s LOUD and please, Lord, don’t wake the kids up…
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AND. IT’S. MY. MOTHER.
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Seven. O’clock.  In the EFFING morning.  She’s leaving a message, pulled me out of a dead sleep, SEVEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING…. wait for it …. to tell me what to post and what not to post on my WEBLOG.
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So!  How’s this, Mom?  Like this blog?  Is it right up your alley?  Is this what you want me to write?  Cuz I’m thinking this is exactly what you were asking for.  Seriously, what do you expect?   That your overbearing crap is going to fly?  Really???   The ONLY reason I didn’t call your ass right back and tell you NEVER to freakin’ call my house EVER. AGAIN. is because I would yell and wake my kids up.
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I. Have. Had. ENOUGH.
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