So let me clear up a few things about my family. Today we shall stick with the parental units.
We'll start with Dad. Dad is a gruff guy, lacks tact, but is very smart. He can always figure out how to do something if given a chance. He is from a very large depression era South Dakota farm family. His mother spent her entire reproductive years doing just that. He left school early and I think always regretted it. He is a blue collar man.
Growing up, he didn't really ever come to my school programs or piano recitals. But for quite a while I was still Daddy's little girl. Eventually I grew up too much and I don't think he knew how to relate to me at all. I even stopped speaking to him for three months in high school. Then, sometime after Ducky and I started dated, but before we got married, dad had a little accident. That landed him on life flight and then ICU.
That little near death experience did wonders for Dad's attitude. After that he started to tell me he loved me. He started giving hugs. He generally figured out how to show he cared. To this day, Dad shows an interest. If he hasn't heard from me in a while he will call just to see how we are. He asks about the boys. He interacts with the boys when he sees them. He sends them money for their college fund. He is the only Grandpa they've got so I am glad that he makes an effort. So you can see why his visit expiration is two days. He has redeemable qualities.
He does complain a lot, but it is mostly about my mother. When I was in second grade, they separated and filed for divorce. I got a puppy (Woofie) and then they got back together. For the sake of the children. Boy was that a mistake. That makes about 28 years of making each other and everyone around them miserable. They were not my model of marriage. Quite the opposite.
Which brings us to my mother. My mother was raised in town and then on a hobby farm. She was the oldest of two. I think my grandparents and her grandparents doted on her a lot because there had been a stillbirth before her. Her sister came along about 5 years later. And I don't think my mother ever got over it. My aunt has bite marks to this day from my mother biting her.
My mother was a teacher until I was four. Then she was a stay at home mom. Except we realized later that she stayed home more for the horses than for us kids. I was only allowed to do activities that my mother wanted to do. Except piano, my grandma wanted me to do that. She bought me a piano and paid for lessons. Sadly I quit after six years, I was too busy doing the things my mother wanted.
We have nothing in common. When I got married we moved away. We would come back to visit about once a month. The visits slowly diminished over time. For a while I would call weekly, and that diminished too. I got tired of being the only one making any effort. My mother has not been to see us since sweetE was a month old. Well over three years ago. She has traveled all over the west to do horse things. But when asked to come visit, she can't travel. She only does what she wants. Just as she always has. And I have given up. I try not to let it bother me. That I and my children are that unimportant to her. I no longer let her make me feel guilty for not calling or visiting more than once a year. I just remind that road travel both ways. She hurumphs and walks off every time.
So the main reason I am dreading the weekend is because of my mother. No amount of effort is enough. No act of kindness appreciated. No good deed unpunished. I am the way I am partly because of her. I am a perfectionist because nothing was ever good enough. I am not a risk-taker because she made me afraid to fail. I am a better mother because she taught me what not to do. I hug my children at least 10 times a day. I tell them I love them at least that often. I cheer them on and cheer them up. They will never doubt that I love them.
4 comments:
I really dread weekends that you know are already ruined. The only thing I can suggest is taking Monday off as a mental health day to recover. All good thoughts coming your way. A mantra you might want to try is, "This, too, shall pass." It will be a very long 48 hours, but then it will be over.
your mother sounds like my grandmother, to a T. she was a town girl who married a farm boy, and she never forgave him for not having more big-city ambition. it had always been her dream to move to the big city (ie, Kansas City) and he would never take her.
at one point early in their marriage she ran away to KC, but eventually came back and resumed their marriage.
my dear aunt had to take ballet lessons for years because my grandmother had always wanted to be a ballet dancer. my aunt wasn't allowed to marry the love of her life for many years because my grandmother forced her to pursue her ballet career.
the only good thing i can tell you about your mother's visit is this: try to make it as good as possible for your kids. they don't know all the baggage. they don't know the history.
when i was a kid, i knew there were tensions between my folks and my grandmother, but they never told me why. i think that was a good thing--i loved my grandmother because she was my grandmother. i looked forward to her rare visits.
maybe somehow that is a gift you can give SweetE and SweetP.
good luck to you. and may the weekend pass swiftly!
I'm not trying to trivialize your relationship with your mother, but you do realize, don't you that you've already moved past her? She may have set you one terrible example after another, but the fact that you can raise your kids in a diametrically opposed manner means that - in some totally jacked up way - she taught you something. She taught you what not to do. And the fact that you know it and can say it to the world is huge.
Clench your teeth in a smile, try not to look at the clock every thirty seconds and realize that Monday morning you'll have your real life back. And it's a pretty sweet one.
My mother is similar to yours in several ways. She is controlling and choleric. She has always done exactly what she wants. She made me into a perfectionist because I was afraid to disappoint her, and she made my decisions for so long that I still have trouble making them. It's a bitch.
My mother is a little more attached to my family than your mom seems to be to yours.
There is a commercial that my husband and I always laugh at. It is a woman about our age talking to a woman who is probably her mother or her mother-in-law. I don't remember what the older woman says, but the younger one says, "Could you forget our address?"
I understand how having them visit must be very difficult. I am sending strength and good thoughts your way. I hope the weekend turns out better than you expect.
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