Normally I don't like to really rant here. Mostly because I am incredibly unattractive when I rant, but secondly because I don't actually make a lot of sense.. But this is a special occassion, so I'm making an exception.
Things you should know before I begin:
1. My mother is the queen of the guilt trip
2. I hate guilt trips and almost always cave
3. My mother lives with us
4. My sister is evil and has been torturing our mother for several years for things that weren't really in her control
5. My grandmother was also kind of evil and tortured my mother for a lifetime also for things that weren't really in her control
6. I love my mother very much, but I also know exactly who she is
7. I HATE causing my mother pain, she's had quite enough for several lifetimes
Ok, you are now prepped and totally ready.
I was not exactly Mom of the Year when Oliver was an infant. I'm still kindof beating myself up over that. I'm told (but don't fully believe) that it was completely excusable because I was only 18.
Don't get me wrong, he was fed, clothed, bathed, etc. - everything that you can actually list, but the untangeable things like cuddling, watching him sleep, that kind of thing didn't come until later. So Mom was perfectly within her rights to help me when I first began parenting.. She just never stopped.
So if I'm in my living room berating one of my children for hitting another, she's likely to walk in and "help" me.
While I was married to Perry this wasn't really that big of a problem, because my entire life was a nightmare (with the exception of my kids) and he had me convinced that I sucked and should do my damnest to suppress my personality (which by the way, I was pretty good at). But now that I'm married to Bean, I'm encouraged on a minute by minute basis to be myself because I am awesome. And while I don't actually agree with him, the "me" is definately coming out.
So here's what went down tonight:
Me: Oliver, go get your paper.
Mom: What are you looking for, Oliver?
Me: I got it Mom.
Mom: (in a REALLY grumpy tone of voice) I know you've got it, but I was just trying to help since his paper's right here next to me.
Me: (calmly) Mom, please don't fight with me in front of the kids.
Mom: (now proceeding into downright bitchy) Then don't start it!!
Me: (now seeing red, and contemplating slapping her - but still pretty damn calmly, if I do say so myself) Then don't interfere when I'm trying to parent my children.
(Mom is now almost crying - see #1)
Me: Mom, I love you very much, but sometimes I feel like you have a very helpful teenage daughter and two small children and I'd like to be able to parent my own kids.
(Mom is still not looking at me, and almost crying - see #1)
Me: I feel like I can't talk to you about anything without you overreacting.
(Mom is STILL not looking at me, and might be really crying - see #1)
Me: Mom I love you very much. (and then I hugged her)
Mom: I love you too.*
She's still not speaking to me really, and I have no idea how long this will continue. My mother also has stamina.
*One of my absolute favorite things about my mother is that she will ALWAYS tell me that she loves me. And frequently she will argue with me about whether or not she loves me more.