____________ April 10, 2016 ___________

My. Mom.

I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to write, today, but the snow is helping.  The world’s gone white, again!  🙂  No, really.  At this moment in time, I need every single smile and blessing I can get.  It snowed all day long, yesterday, but not a single flake stuck until the sun went down, so I wasn’t sure what we’d wake up to.  It’s breathtaking – every branch is layered with snow.  I love it.

My mother came over, Friday.

I wrote to my e-penpal and then was happily plugging along at filling the thumb drive with files, and there was a knock on the door.  I don’t like knocks on the door.  And I should’ve been wary, but I wasn’t.  It was the UPS guy, right?  Or someone who wants the people at the other house with our number (that happens a LOT).  Or something stupid, like a local church handing out tracts.  I wasn’t ready.  I hadn’t even thought in a really long time about what I would do if/when she ever showed up here, again… so I was unprepared.

It’s been a year since we last heard from her, and I got lax.  (Last time, she showed up, and it was a DISASTER from moment one.  I all but threw her out.  Then she called at 7am the next morning [I get hostile when people call before 9 and wake my kids up] to tell me news that she told me the day before, and then she called again at 6:30am the NEXT day to tell me what I could and couldn’t post on my blog.  Let’s just say that didn’t go well.

It was a lovely year.  No problems.  No stress.  We’ve been happy.  I forgot about the misery and angst and trouble and constant tenseness that came with dealing with her.  It’s been SO nice.  Was it stupid of me to think it would go on?  That I’d be that lucky that she’d just leave us alone?  Brian’s parents do – I haven’t had to see his family in nine years.  My dad does – he walked just after that, and it’s been nearly as long with him out of the picture.  And it’s GOOD.  But that’s not how things work with my mom.  Tenacious is an understatement.

She came alone this time, but only because she has to know by now that I *HATE* my sister in my house.  My sister wanders and noses thru things.  She scopes out our stuff.  She’s the type who’s checking everything out, and right under our noses, too.  There’s also the fact that I don’t respect my sister at all, because she’s still umbilically attached to my mother.  Even the five years that she was married, she was at my mom’s house every. single. day.  (Except every other Friday, which was what I allotted my mom for my kids to see her.)  She’d go home when she knew her husband was going to get home from work, but that was it.  My mom cleaned her house, mowed her lawn, coddled her.  And after the divorce?  My mom got a job to pay for the legalities of the thing, moved my sister into their bedroom (moved their bedroom into their living room!), and took her and her girls in.

My sister and her girls are my mom’s second family – they’re my mom’s girls – not Jill’s.  There’s no place my mom goes that the four girls are taken along.  My mom is the parent, and she LOVES it… she has to have control, and Jill lets her have it all.  My sister is 38 and has lived the past eight years under my mom’s wing – she has no job, no car, no phone (my mom gave her hers) no dates, no goals… nothing.  So that she didn’t come along was probably the only smart thing my mom managed, Friday.

My mom preys on me.  She knows I’m a goody-goody.  That I always do the kind, nice thing, even if I’m going to get kicked in the teeth for it – she knows it, and she counts on it.  She exults when she shows up at the door, and I open it stupidly and do the sweet thing.  Invite her in.  Offer her coffee.  Take her in the living room.  Ask her to sit down.  I always do the kind thingand in her case, doing the kind thing is the WRONG thing.  I know it’s the right thing in every other case, but not this one.  And I *HATE* myself for it.  Because it’s my default, and she plays on that.

I opened the door and invited her in.  I SUCK AS A HUMAN.   Quasi-human.

Which… I probably should explain up front that it’s likely that I’m the spawn of a demon-possessed person.  I’m not kidding.  There’s something *WRONG* with my mother.  She knows things… things she shouldn’t know.  She told me as I was leaving on a date with Brian one night that he’d propose that evening.  He’d given no indications, so I mostly blew her off, but it was in my mind (and because of that not a completely surprise) when he did.  That night.  She does things like this all of the time.  She drives with her head turned around in the backseat (control issues), and never has a car accident.   ALL THE TIME, and never has been hurt doing it.  Nothing touches her.

And weird things – things move in her house.  I was terrified almost all the time, growing up.  Things would move, on their own.  Maybe you’re one of those people who don’t believe in that kind of thing, but it freaked me the hell out.  I’d be talking on the phone in the living room, and a lid would come up off a container, lift up, and throw itself down on the floor.  Once I was playing the piano and a helium balloon from my brother’s room down a hall and around a corner floated OUT of his room, down the hall, around another corner and came to rest by the piano.  It was just weird.

Things – miraculous things – happen all the time around her, and I’d say it’s angels, but the woman can’t go thirty seconds without lying, cheating, manipulating, or toying with someone like a cat with a mouse.  She has no tolerance, patience, or consideration for anyone else, and is always on to the next thing.  Not exactly stellar character… and that leaves only one alternative.

She showed up with Snap Circuits (exactly the thing my kids love the most, and there’s NO way she could know – My weblog is password protected and I’ve posted nothing on my FB).  She brought five movies, and they were all the movies I’ve been needing, or that we’d JUST been talking about getting to watch, next.  She does this.  And it drives me crazy.  Brian says she’s definitely got ‘help from outside’ but he doesn’t like to take it further than that.

In the hour that she was here, it was horribly tense, and I can list for you at least thirty or forty lies, manipulations, underlying messages, power plays, and mind games she managed.  She’s completely unfocused – she’ll ask about something, and when you go to answer her, she turns her head and starts talking to someone else… and you’re left talking to whoever might’ve been listening to the conversation-that-never-happened, just because it seems stupid to stop talking half a sentence into a reply.  She does this almost constantly, and it drives me CR-azy.

And she has this weird effect on kids that I forgot about (but will be reminded of, all day today).  It’s Recovery Day, and it’s been so long, I almost forgot about it.  She winds my kids up into a frenzy so tightly, that they don’t know how to come off of that.  But it’s more than that – whatever it is that’s unseen and influencing her, it harms the kids.  Every other Friday when I used to see her, I would brace for ‘recovery day’ afterwards, because the next day, my kids would become absolute animals.  No sense of logic or reason, they’d just cry or scream for no reason, they’d be inconsolable and frantic… and it took a whole day for that to pass.  It was hideous.  I fear for today… although mostly they’re a little older, and I’m hoping strong enough to stand against it.  But we’ve tested this – it only takes three minutes with my mom – just a pit-stop to drop something off – and that’s enough to trigger a recovery day.  So it’s more than just her, doing it to them.

She’s impossible to talk to, because everything she has is bigger and better, or she had it first.  Or she’s too impatient to listen to the answer she asked for.  Our very first conversation yesterday went something like this:

Mom:  What’s that long strip of wood on the wall in your living room?
Me:  Well, you see, I don’t want to have a Christmas tree, anymore…
Mom: (interrupting)  I don’t care about that!  I want to know about that wood!!!

Yyyyyyyyyyyyup.   That’s about how it goes, with my mom.  The whole visit was a mess of lies, fabrications… she told the kids that while she’s missed them, the person she’s really missed is ME.  What. A. HORRIFIC lie!!!  She’s hated my guts, all of my life.  She’s told me I’m ugly and vile and bratty and disobedient and rotten and a wayward little witch – all of my life.  (All the while telling other people of my accomplishments, like she’s proud of that vile witch for being church pianist, or being on the Dean’s list, or getting the lead in a musical, or directing her own show, or WHATever!!)  She doesn’t miss me!  She misses the opportunity to SHRED me!!!  Freaking, FREAKING lies!!!

Sorry.  I’m sorry.  Backing away from the crazy ledge, now.

She looked terrible.  Well… she’s never taken care of herself – I think the skin cancer is back (although she never admitted to the first occurrence of it).  Nasty sores on her nose this time (last time it was crusty lesions all along her eyebrows)… she won’t admit to weakness, so it just goes unsaid.

She did admit that they had to pull half of her teeth out and put in fake ones.  This is because she refused to go to a dentist for 15 years (to have her teeth cleaned), and she has weak teeth, to begin with.  She created her own mess, with that.  But she doesn’t like medical anything, so she avoids them, irrationally.

And then we got to it – she’s got to have a hip replacement in three weeks time.  I’m half wondering if that isn’t what this is about – she’s TERRIFIED of hospitals, doctors, etc.  It’s ridiculous, but her mom was the same way (she found a lump in her breast, and let it grow, because doctors were more frightening than cancer.  S’how my grandma died when I was four.)  My mom’s the same way – I had to bribe her to bring the kids up to see the new baby when I had Owen, because she HATES hospitals that much.  So I’m suspecting that she’s “covering bases”, because of the hip replacement.  Likely she’s worried something’s going to happen on the table, r’something.  I don’t know.

At the least, it was a useful catalyst for her to re-insert herself in my world.

I don’t… can’t… after she left, I was done for the day.  Spent the next six hours replaying that hour, and discovering more and more mind games and power plays.  It all happens so FAST with her – and no matter how on guard, stuff gets thru.  And it’s not just about watching out for her trying to play me, but watching myself so that I don’t give her ammunition, and at the same time being ready to handle whatever kind of ball she’s going to send my way, next.  It’s never the same.  And she’s fast… too fast for someone remedial.  It’s something else, supplying her, I’m telling you.

Anyhow.  ANYHOW.  I’m sorry… I just totally unloaded on you.

And not to keep on the same thing, but… homigosh, my mother…!!   Aaron was wearing his elf ears from his costume, so I showed her a picture on my phone of the kids’ costumes.  “I know Gandalf and the little hobbit, but I don’t know any of these other people.”  She tells Aaron.  “I’ve given up on learning.  I’m too old for it, and it takes too much time and energy.”  !!!!!!  She told my kids that!!!  HomiGOSH!!   I just… can’t… even…!!!!!!!!  Just stuff like that.  !!!!!

Thank GOD that He gave me over to my Grandma Fern, so that I would develop her weltangschauung, instead of my mom’s.  Five dollar word, I know, but it’s made ALL the difference, for me.  [ http://english.stackexchange.com/questions/17908/whats-the-difference-between-weltanschauung-and-worldview ]

Anyhow.  I didn’t go to the computer repair place.  The day was a wash, after her visit.  I finished book five, got halfway thru book six, did school with the kids, and we did some reading as a family, last night.

Oh!  I know what happened.  Brian came home, sat down by me, and handed me a glittery little card.  I had no idea what it was, until I flipped it over – it was a $100 gift VISA card.  Here’s the story:  Brian deals with a lot of cutter salesmen, because the big machines he works on go thru a lot of cutters.  (That’s the point that cuts the steel into shapes.)  So this one cutter company had a christmas drawing, and any shop that’d purchased cutters from them last year was entered in the drawing.  Brian’s shop won – but they didn’t get around to bringing him the gift card until yesterday.  Brian took it up to Mike’s (owner) office, and Mike looked at it, shrugged, and handed it back to Brian.  “I got another one from a different place in December… gave it to the secretary.  You keep this one.”  He tells Brian.  Apparently, $100 gift card is chump change to Mike?!  I don’t know, but he gave us a gift card.  For a HUNDRED dollars!!

Okay, and between that and the snow, I’m blessed.  And my kids.  And my husband.  And a warm home and soft music and Isaac made a fresh pot of coffee and a pending trip to the craft store, this weekend (along with ‘KungFu Panda 3’ as Flick’s Free Film).  So see?  I’m blessed.  And it’ll probably be a while before she comes around, again.  Maybe.  I don’t know.  No one ever knows.  But I have blessings to count, regardless.

Homigosh, she was LUSTING over that menorah we built.  I like it so much, it’s still up in the living room.  She LOVED that thing… “You should make them and sell them – you could make money on them.” she says.  I explain what my e-penpal aptly pointed out – that it’s wrong to make money on things of God.  “So?!” she threw back at me, “Everybody else does.”   !!!!!   …No. Words…!!  Anyhow, it’s such a joke, because we had fought SO bad over religion when I came out of christianity.  She was GOING to prove to me that I was WRONG about the present form of church being unscriptural.  So she started digging, found out that I was right (She has told Brian and I that her goal in life is to prove me wrong.  That she will do ANYTHING to prove me wrong).  So she ‘left christianity’ for two years, and had Passovers with bunnies and eggs and HAM, for the love of Pete! ON EASTER!  Menorahs and trees and Jeezus-is-born music ON X-MESS… and made a HUGE mess for about two years.  Until she finally said, “I don’t care if Christianity is wrong.  It’s what my dad did, and I like what my dad did, and that’s what I’m going to do.”  And that was the end of pretending to leave christianity.  Except she still pretends to believe what I believe, at the same time.  So it’s all a mess.  A big joke, when she lusts over a menorah – since she doesn’t really believe that way, anyhow.

I’m still ranting, aren’t I?  Maybe I should just go.  It would probably be best if I just go.

Sorry…!!  I’m sorry.

Leave a comment


  1. I agree with Brian. She’s got outside help *somehow*.

  2. Whooo! That makes my head spin! Praying you have your peace back by now. ❤


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