This morning was the annual fundraiser breakfast for the large local non-profit organization I have chaired for the past three years. Fortunately for this story, I am no longer the chair and no longer called on to speak at the event ... but I was still hosting a table of ten, not to mention that I knew there would be many folks in the crowd that I would want to greet and chat with. (Not least among them you lovely dears.)
Last weekend Mr. J was in Detroit, sailing. He was supposed to be home for three days before turning around and heading to Minneapolis. Well, as it happened, he was wrong about the scheduling and he was only home for about 36 hours. He left yesterday afternoon. It's fine, I can deal with the kids on my own for an extra day or two, but I was going to need some help in the morning today as the kids are not supposed to arrive at school before 8:15, and the doors were opening at the breakfast at 7:30 a.m. for an 8:00 start time.
I called on Mr-Mama. It seemed like the reasonable thing to do, since my own mama was already on board to help pick the kids up at school three days this week, and since the Mr-Parents live half a mile from my house, and since Mr-Mama made a huge point of telling me while I was with her last weekend that she is always up in the morning and had thought about volunteering to take the kids to school on the regular (ha!) but she thought it would be good for Mr. J to get into that routine. Sure, whatever.
So I texted her on Monday night about helping out this morning (Wednesday). She was all about it. No problem at all. I'd get the kids up and dressed and she'd be here by 7:20 to give them breakfast and drive them to school. Great.
Well, this morning at 7:20 she was not at my house. She's routinely late so I was not yet panicked. I got very busy dealing with the Bear, who was having a rough morning (sleepy and cranky), and the Bits, who had somehow removed her own diaper and peed all over her bed such that everything had to go into the washing machine including (the horrors!) her beloved Baby. I was starting to stress, though. My trips downstairs by myself had reduced the Bear to tears, so I was reduced to begging Bear to please, please put on his clothes so that we could go downstairs and call Mr-Mama. At 7:33, we finally got downstairs and the phone rang. It was Mr-Papa. He said, "Was Mr-Mama supposed to be over there this morning to help with the kids?" I said, "Yes, ten minutes ago." He said, "I'm on my way right now and she'll be right behind me."
Through a blessed confluence of green lights, and after literally sprinting two downtown blocks -- providing a great source of entertainment for the people sitting in the Einstein Bagel Bros windows, I'm sure -- I made it to the registration table for the breakfast at exactly 7:59, and I got to my table at the very moment they turned down the lights. I don't need this kind of stress in my life.
This, THIS, is exactly why Mr. J says every time I suggest that we call his mom for help: "I can't rely on her." I would be so mortified and ashamed if my child ever said that about me. The only silver lining is that her flakiness seems to be nudging Mr. J to do better himself.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Monday, September 14, 2015
Julep: The HRF
Mr. J's sister got engaged last weekend. Y'all know that I am dearly fond of Mr-Sister. I am somewhat less fond of her beau, whose previous title (The Highly Regrettable Boyfriend) must now be revised to The Highly Regrettable Fiance. I don't dislike him in the pure sense. But he is not merely socially awkward - he is just plain anti-social. And he makes me uneasy. I don't trust him.
Here's the latest classic example. Mr-Sister is having a lot of anxiety around wedding planning. Now part of that was inevitable, given her mother. But I truly did not think it would be so difficult for her to make some high-level decisions and then tell Mr-Mama to have at it.
I had a long chat with her the other day, and here's what I discovered: The HRF doesn't want a wedding. Not a real one. Mr-Sis told me, "He'd be happy to go down to the Justice of the Peace and have dinner after in my parents' backyard." Furthermore, she said, "He doesn't want to get married in front of a bunch of my parents' friends, or even my friends that he doesn't know well." So Mr-Sis is tying herself in knots trying to transform the wedding she always assumed she would have into something smaller and less ... wedding-like ... so that The HRF won't be uncomfortable.
She was talking about flying off to the Bahamas - she said, "we could invite about 50 people." I gently suggested to her that a destination wedding is extremely inconvenient for people with small children who must either spend thousands of dollars on airfare to bring the whole crew or figure out who will watch their children at home - and I don't mean her brother and me, I figure that Mr-Papa will at least help us with the tab although there won't be much he can do about either Mr. J or me (ha, I pretend that it might possibly be Mr. J) having to spend the evenings after 8 p.m. sitting in a hotel room while the party goes on downstairs and our children sleep, as I do not want to live out the story of that British couple whose daughter was abducted from their hotel room in Portugal while they had dinner downstairs. Where was I? Oh yes, she has several very close friends with small children and non-extensive bank accounts. Also, her lifelong best friend will be nine months pregnant in the spring and certainly not flying to the Bahamas. Oh, and her 90 year old grandmother won't be able to go either. Finally, I asked whether The HRF would be really more comfortable in a group of 50 where approximately 6 of them are his own friends and relations.
I think she has ditched the destination idea. She's now talking about some barn out in the countryside that rents out for weddings. And listen, it's her wedding, she should do what she will love. It's not the specific plans that are bothering me ... it's the idea that your fiance doesn't want you to have a wedding full of the people who have loved you throughout your life, who want to come and celebrate your joy with you, because he's uncomfortable in crowds. Suck it up, dude. He is perfectly happy to stay home and sit on the couch with her at all times - and maybe the times that they are alone together watching TV are wonderful and blissful, I don't know, What I do know is that before she met him, she was a quintessential people person. I know that people change as they get older, and maybe she has realized that being in big groups isn't something she really enjoys or needs in her life. But I don't think so. I think she keeps thinking that it will get better: as he meets more of her friends and gets to know people better, he'll be more comfortable around them. But I think she is mistaken. I don't think he wants that at all. He wants her to make her life smaller so that he will be more at ease in it. And I hate to think she is carving away pieces of herself in order to make him happier.
Oh, and I ain't sayin' he's a gold-digger ... but I am wondering if there is any tactful way to suggest to her that consulting a lawyer about a pre-nup would be a really, really good idea. Shower gift, maybe?
Here's the latest classic example. Mr-Sister is having a lot of anxiety around wedding planning. Now part of that was inevitable, given her mother. But I truly did not think it would be so difficult for her to make some high-level decisions and then tell Mr-Mama to have at it.
I had a long chat with her the other day, and here's what I discovered: The HRF doesn't want a wedding. Not a real one. Mr-Sis told me, "He'd be happy to go down to the Justice of the Peace and have dinner after in my parents' backyard." Furthermore, she said, "He doesn't want to get married in front of a bunch of my parents' friends, or even my friends that he doesn't know well." So Mr-Sis is tying herself in knots trying to transform the wedding she always assumed she would have into something smaller and less ... wedding-like ... so that The HRF won't be uncomfortable.
She was talking about flying off to the Bahamas - she said, "we could invite about 50 people." I gently suggested to her that a destination wedding is extremely inconvenient for people with small children who must either spend thousands of dollars on airfare to bring the whole crew or figure out who will watch their children at home - and I don't mean her brother and me, I figure that Mr-Papa will at least help us with the tab although there won't be much he can do about either Mr. J or me (ha, I pretend that it might possibly be Mr. J) having to spend the evenings after 8 p.m. sitting in a hotel room while the party goes on downstairs and our children sleep, as I do not want to live out the story of that British couple whose daughter was abducted from their hotel room in Portugal while they had dinner downstairs. Where was I? Oh yes, she has several very close friends with small children and non-extensive bank accounts. Also, her lifelong best friend will be nine months pregnant in the spring and certainly not flying to the Bahamas. Oh, and her 90 year old grandmother won't be able to go either. Finally, I asked whether The HRF would be really more comfortable in a group of 50 where approximately 6 of them are his own friends and relations.
I think she has ditched the destination idea. She's now talking about some barn out in the countryside that rents out for weddings. And listen, it's her wedding, she should do what she will love. It's not the specific plans that are bothering me ... it's the idea that your fiance doesn't want you to have a wedding full of the people who have loved you throughout your life, who want to come and celebrate your joy with you, because he's uncomfortable in crowds. Suck it up, dude. He is perfectly happy to stay home and sit on the couch with her at all times - and maybe the times that they are alone together watching TV are wonderful and blissful, I don't know, What I do know is that before she met him, she was a quintessential people person. I know that people change as they get older, and maybe she has realized that being in big groups isn't something she really enjoys or needs in her life. But I don't think so. I think she keeps thinking that it will get better: as he meets more of her friends and gets to know people better, he'll be more comfortable around them. But I think she is mistaken. I don't think he wants that at all. He wants her to make her life smaller so that he will be more at ease in it. And I hate to think she is carving away pieces of herself in order to make him happier.
Oh, and I ain't sayin' he's a gold-digger ... but I am wondering if there is any tactful way to suggest to her that consulting a lawyer about a pre-nup would be a really, really good idea. Shower gift, maybe?
Friday, September 4, 2015
Julep: let the record show...
... that my fears about leaving Mr. J in charge for most of the first two weeks at the kids' new school were unfounded. He stepped up to the plate beautifully. In fact, I now think it was a real blessing that I was gone so much those first few weeks, because it forced him to develop strategies to manage without my contribution. Now that I am home, he's not relying on me to nag him out of bed, thanks be to the sweet baby Jesus. Three weeks in and so far so good.
In discussing this with LoLa, I recognized that in general, Mr. J responds well to pressure. In fact, he thrives on it. He is at his best when everything is going to hell around him. And this is a bit of a stress point in our marriage, because I am not someone who likes to let things go to where catastrophic failure is a real possibility.
Faced with a situation where he has to act or disaster will ensue, you can count on Mr. J to save the day. He will always sink the free throws when the game is on the line. If he'll pardon me the UK analogy, he's a Harrison twin. But (no disrespect to the Harrisons) he is also the player who caused the team to need a game-winning free throw, because he was distracted on defense and dawdled around on the shot clock and seemed like he was sleepwalking through the whole first half.
It was easier to let Mr. J do his own thing when it was just the two of us. Now that we are raising children, I feel obliged to, you know, not fuck them up. So I backstop him, and that makes him lazy. Probably if I were willing to let Mr. J almost-fail more often, he would do better at taking responsibility for our household, family, life ... but I might have a coronary from the stress. I'm thinking there's a zen koan in here somewhere.
In discussing this with LoLa, I recognized that in general, Mr. J responds well to pressure. In fact, he thrives on it. He is at his best when everything is going to hell around him. And this is a bit of a stress point in our marriage, because I am not someone who likes to let things go to where catastrophic failure is a real possibility.
Faced with a situation where he has to act or disaster will ensue, you can count on Mr. J to save the day. He will always sink the free throws when the game is on the line. If he'll pardon me the UK analogy, he's a Harrison twin. But (no disrespect to the Harrisons) he is also the player who caused the team to need a game-winning free throw, because he was distracted on defense and dawdled around on the shot clock and seemed like he was sleepwalking through the whole first half.
It was easier to let Mr. J do his own thing when it was just the two of us. Now that we are raising children, I feel obliged to, you know, not fuck them up. So I backstop him, and that makes him lazy. Probably if I were willing to let Mr. J almost-fail more often, he would do better at taking responsibility for our household, family, life ... but I might have a coronary from the stress. I'm thinking there's a zen koan in here somewhere.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Julep: shifting gears
Just read an article quoting Rand Paul in which I immediately thought, "What an idiotic thing to say." A little normalcy is a nice thing.
The kids start their new school on Monday - and will be classmates with the Twinkle sisters! I am excited about this in the big picture but getting anxiety about the transition. Under the new regime, Mr. J will be responsible for dropping the kids off every morning. He will have to be up and somewhat functional at 7:30 a.m. five days a week, and I am here to tell you that he is not good at getting out of bed in the mornings.Yes, he is an adult. Yes, this is the sort of thing that the rest of us had to learn to adapt to a solid twenty or thirty years back. I'm not trying to say it's reasonable, but it's a concern.
If it were me, I would be spending the start of August carefully trying to calibrate my bedtime and rising time to the new normal, so that next week would not be such a shock to the system. I don't have to tell you that I have (thus far) seen no signs that Mr. J is doing the same.
I thought I had a plan in place that was going to give me at least some way to force his hand -- I told him that I would get the kids up and dressed every morning, then leave for the office and let him handle breakfast and the drop-off. This plan masquerades as a division of labor, while allowing me to make sure the children are dressed decently and that they are up and roaming the house thus giving him an urgent sense of the need to get out of bed rather than simply sleeping though his alarm clock.
Then I realized this week that I will be out of town for work on Thursday and Friday mornings next week, and at least three mornings of the following week. Three mornings is simply not enough to get Mr. J into a new routine.
I'm starting to worry. My poor kids are going to spend their first two weeks at a new school being those kids who can't show up on time.
The kids start their new school on Monday - and will be classmates with the Twinkle sisters! I am excited about this in the big picture but getting anxiety about the transition. Under the new regime, Mr. J will be responsible for dropping the kids off every morning. He will have to be up and somewhat functional at 7:30 a.m. five days a week, and I am here to tell you that he is not good at getting out of bed in the mornings.Yes, he is an adult. Yes, this is the sort of thing that the rest of us had to learn to adapt to a solid twenty or thirty years back. I'm not trying to say it's reasonable, but it's a concern.
If it were me, I would be spending the start of August carefully trying to calibrate my bedtime and rising time to the new normal, so that next week would not be such a shock to the system. I don't have to tell you that I have (thus far) seen no signs that Mr. J is doing the same.
I thought I had a plan in place that was going to give me at least some way to force his hand -- I told him that I would get the kids up and dressed every morning, then leave for the office and let him handle breakfast and the drop-off. This plan masquerades as a division of labor, while allowing me to make sure the children are dressed decently and that they are up and roaming the house thus giving him an urgent sense of the need to get out of bed rather than simply sleeping though his alarm clock.
Then I realized this week that I will be out of town for work on Thursday and Friday mornings next week, and at least three mornings of the following week. Three mornings is simply not enough to get Mr. J into a new routine.
I'm starting to worry. My poor kids are going to spend their first two weeks at a new school being those kids who can't show up on time.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Julep: Your Spirit Celebrity
I told LoLa last night that her ensemble reminded me of Reese Witherspoon. Behold, Exhibit A.
I think we all agree that Reese Witherspoon would be our friend if we knew her in person. Also Jennifer Garner (and I think she could use a night out with the girls these days, bless her heart. I hope she has real-life friends who laugh as much as we do). And I suspect we all acknowledge, a la Charlene on Designing Women, that Dolly Parton is our Celebrity Godmother. Who else is on the list?
I think I would quite like Taylor Swift, with the same sort of big-sister spirit I feel towards the young woman associates in my office. Sandra Bullock would make a great Celebrity Big Sister. I have a lingering soft spot for Jennifer Aniston, although I feel that I would be rapidly annoyed with her hipster dude husband. Also I think she would talk too much about yoga and her skin care products. But she might take you with her to Bora Bora, so that would make up for it.
Any other thoughts?
I think we all agree that Reese Witherspoon would be our friend if we knew her in person. Also Jennifer Garner (and I think she could use a night out with the girls these days, bless her heart. I hope she has real-life friends who laugh as much as we do). And I suspect we all acknowledge, a la Charlene on Designing Women, that Dolly Parton is our Celebrity Godmother. Who else is on the list?
I think I would quite like Taylor Swift, with the same sort of big-sister spirit I feel towards the young woman associates in my office. Sandra Bullock would make a great Celebrity Big Sister. I have a lingering soft spot for Jennifer Aniston, although I feel that I would be rapidly annoyed with her hipster dude husband. Also I think she would talk too much about yoga and her skin care products. But she might take you with her to Bora Bora, so that would make up for it.
Any other thoughts?
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Julep: Solidarity
Twinkle, I just read your last post, and I want you to know how much I sympathize with your situation. It's hard balancing the roles of mother and daughter.
I also want to tell you that your post was really good inspiration for me on how to handle some emotional dramz on my end. See? You're not a bad daughter or mom - you're actually a great mom and a source of tips and guidance! I know your post was really about dealing with your mom, but the parts that rang clear to me are the parts about how you try to keep your girls on an emotionally even keel, being aware of their sensitivities without kowtowing to their whims.
The issue that worries me more is when she pitches a fit to get her way. If you tell her "no," or correct her behavior in even the lightest fashion, she screams. And if she doesn't get what she wants? Screams. Let's say that Bear gets a treat after dinner, because he has cleaned his plate. Bits will not eat all of her dinner -- she will not even eat the three bites of veg and two bites of meat that have been given to her as her "eat this much and you can have dessert too" level of eating. When Bear gets his popsicle or cookie, she will proceed to scream bloody murder the whole time he eats it.
At my house, Little Bits is a drama queen and a diva in the making. She is always wailing about something. Occasionally the wailing is justified, but she howls just as loudly when her brother lightly bumps into her as when he intentionally pile-drives her. This is a problem, and I'm actively working on getting her to toughen up. I want her to stay her sweet, kind self, but as I keep telling her, everything cannot be a five-alarm fire.
The issue that worries me more is when she pitches a fit to get her way. If you tell her "no," or correct her behavior in even the lightest fashion, she screams. And if she doesn't get what she wants? Screams. Let's say that Bear gets a treat after dinner, because he has cleaned his plate. Bits will not eat all of her dinner -- she will not even eat the three bites of veg and two bites of meat that have been given to her as her "eat this much and you can have dessert too" level of eating. When Bear gets his popsicle or cookie, she will proceed to scream bloody murder the whole time he eats it.
If she bites her brother and gets put in time-out, she screams - and she's not weeping "I'm sorry," it's quite clear that she is doing it for the sole purpose of bullying the other person into backing down. I personally do not back down at the screaming. But Mr. J does ... he swears he only does it in the car, for the sake of his focus on the road, but I don't believe him. Even more worrisome to me is that Bear has started to do it too. Bits has what I call a full service mentality. She will ask me to do something for her that she is perfectly capable of doing, say, getting her doll. When I tell her to do it herself and she starts working up a howl, Bear will trot across the room and collect it for her.
This child is delightful in many ways, but her potential to be a spoiled brat is off the charts. I want to respect her sensitive nature - I appreciate that being high-strung is not an inherent flaw - but I don't want to raise a kid who expects the world to revolve around her and makes everyone else walk on eggshells.At the same time, I would prefer that my child not hate me, the only person in her world who ever attempts to jerk a knot in her chain. Sigh.
Friday, July 24, 2015
Twinkle: Another Super-Pleasant Visit With My Super-Fun Mom
My mom visited today, and as usual it was a super-pleasant time.
I actually invited her, because I was trying to reach out and treat her like a normal person. Whenever I expect that of her--just simple normal person behavior--she just can't seem to rise to the occasion.
The trouble started at lunch, when we got to a restaurant and AM wanted to eat outside. I said OK (because I'm a nice mom! yay!), but my mom looked like she didn't want to do that. She actually looked panicked over it, and she said, "Right in the sun?" and "There are lots of tables inside." So I was like, "OK--we're not going to eat at this table because everyone is not on board with that idea, so let's just find a nice table inside."
AM, stubborn on a good day and overtired at this particular moment from a busy week, burst into tears and would. not. stop. My mom immediately changed gears and was like, "It's ok. Let's eat outside. Can we please eat outside? I WANT to eat outside..." and I was like, "No, just give her a minute; she'll get over it." My mom WOULD NOT DROP IT, and AM would not stop crying (she's not stupid; she knows how to get her way with my mom), and it just went on and on and fucking on, with my mom begging to eat outside and AM sobbing at the table, and me trying to minimize it, stick by the decision, and move on with the day. All in front of the booming lunch scene at [Casual French Restaurant in NuLu], where I knew several people. Super fun.
My mom also charmingly interspersed her pleading with accusatory statements that I'm inflexible as a mother and always have to get my way or else. And right when AM settled down and started to move on, my mother brought it right back up and APOLOGIZED to her. This prolonged the drama and the tears.
Here's why it's all SO fucked up:
1). There are five people in our immediate family, and we are constantly having to agree on everything: which movie to watch, where to go get ice cream, whether to swim in the baby pool or big pool. It never stops, and invariably at any given moment, someone is not getting her way and is unhappy about it. In those times (which occur many, many times throughout the day), the best thing to do is just let the person be mad about it, forge ahead, and hope she gets over it and eventually has fun. We cannot constantly cave to whoever's crying. It's also a good lesson: sometimes you have to roll with the group even if you disagree with the plan.
2). I'm trying to raise my children to be nice, kind people, and sometimes to put other people's wishes or comfort above their own. This was a perfect chance for my daughter to learn that maybe just because SHE wants to eat outside in the 100-degree heat, maybe her 67-year-old grandmother does not. Maybe some else's comfort is more important than her wishes. I tried to be kind to her and comfort her; I promised her that we'd go back and eat outside one day next week, but I wasn't going to give in. I don't think that makes me inflexible, I think it makes me thoughtful of my own mother's needs and comfort.
3). If anyone should have been apologizing for how it all went down, it should have been AM. My mom is an adult and is entitled to make kids eat lunch at a table not of their choosing. An apology only served to undermine her authority (which is pretty much non-existant with the kids) and mine.
4). When I was that age, if I had wanted to eat outside in the 100-degree heat, my parents' answer would have been "no" and that would have been the end of it, and they certainly would not have tolerated a damn hissy fit.
One of my biggest problems with my mom is her inability to let me be the mom. She is constantly trying to negotiate after I make the smallest of decisions on something (like whether to eat inside or outside). And then when I don't want to negotiate with her about it, she acts like I'm a rigid dictator. The problem is that someone in this family has to be the boss, and it can't be the kids, and that leaves me. It does't make me mean or rigid or inflexible--in fact proof of my flexibility could be seen when I was all "Sure--let's eat outside; oh wait--someone seems not OK with that plan so let's reevaluate the plan so that we're all comfortable." But when she comes to town and undermines my authority, it's just a miserable experience.
---
Just now she came back to the house after leaving, to inform us that the My Little Pony dolls the girls want from Target are sold out for the next two weeks. E is an emotional wreck most of the time, and news like that could shatter her, so I asked my mom not to mention it as E was happy at the moment.
Me: Please don't tell them that. E is happy right now and that's going to make her start crying.
My mom: Well, I don't want her to expect to get the doll the next time she sees me.
(Aside: I can totally address the issue with E between now and then, and E will cry, and I'll deal with it. I was just asking her not to go there right that second, because it was a brief moment of peace and I was enjoying it).
Me: Fine, go ahead and tell her, and she'll throw a fit.
My mom: No, it's fine. I'll go along with what you want. I ALWAYS DO.
---
I mean, it is just fucking exhausting. I invite her here to have a good day and she acts like I'm an inflexible bitch for making my kids eat inside so that she can keep cool. And then I ask her not to make one of my kids cry so that the brief moment of peace can continue, and she acts like I'm a bitch about that, too. She doesn't help when she's here. She causes more trouble and drama. It's like having a fourth child. I want to be a good daughter and to invite her to do things, but she can't just roll with the plan if even one person is upset. Why do I want to invite her when it's like this? But if I don't invite her to do things she gets her feelings hurt. If she could just be normal and HELP ME (or even just sit quietly while I parent), instead of inserting herself and making everything that much harder. Say what you will about my mother-in-law, but at least she HELPS me, and she never undermines my authority (and actually has lots of authority of her own over the kids, something my mom has never had and never will because she caves to the smallest hissy fit).
Sorry this is so long. I am so frustrated. I don't think I'm a bad person, or a bad daughter, or a bad mother. I'm afraid my mother thinks I'm all of the above, and it hurts. On some level I know she's mentally ill and I just have to accept that as part of who she is and love her anyway, and that is the hardest part.
I actually invited her, because I was trying to reach out and treat her like a normal person. Whenever I expect that of her--just simple normal person behavior--she just can't seem to rise to the occasion.
The trouble started at lunch, when we got to a restaurant and AM wanted to eat outside. I said OK (because I'm a nice mom! yay!), but my mom looked like she didn't want to do that. She actually looked panicked over it, and she said, "Right in the sun?" and "There are lots of tables inside." So I was like, "OK--we're not going to eat at this table because everyone is not on board with that idea, so let's just find a nice table inside."
AM, stubborn on a good day and overtired at this particular moment from a busy week, burst into tears and would. not. stop. My mom immediately changed gears and was like, "It's ok. Let's eat outside. Can we please eat outside? I WANT to eat outside..." and I was like, "No, just give her a minute; she'll get over it." My mom WOULD NOT DROP IT, and AM would not stop crying (she's not stupid; she knows how to get her way with my mom), and it just went on and on and fucking on, with my mom begging to eat outside and AM sobbing at the table, and me trying to minimize it, stick by the decision, and move on with the day. All in front of the booming lunch scene at [Casual French Restaurant in NuLu], where I knew several people. Super fun.
My mom also charmingly interspersed her pleading with accusatory statements that I'm inflexible as a mother and always have to get my way or else. And right when AM settled down and started to move on, my mother brought it right back up and APOLOGIZED to her. This prolonged the drama and the tears.
Here's why it's all SO fucked up:
1). There are five people in our immediate family, and we are constantly having to agree on everything: which movie to watch, where to go get ice cream, whether to swim in the baby pool or big pool. It never stops, and invariably at any given moment, someone is not getting her way and is unhappy about it. In those times (which occur many, many times throughout the day), the best thing to do is just let the person be mad about it, forge ahead, and hope she gets over it and eventually has fun. We cannot constantly cave to whoever's crying. It's also a good lesson: sometimes you have to roll with the group even if you disagree with the plan.
2). I'm trying to raise my children to be nice, kind people, and sometimes to put other people's wishes or comfort above their own. This was a perfect chance for my daughter to learn that maybe just because SHE wants to eat outside in the 100-degree heat, maybe her 67-year-old grandmother does not. Maybe some else's comfort is more important than her wishes. I tried to be kind to her and comfort her; I promised her that we'd go back and eat outside one day next week, but I wasn't going to give in. I don't think that makes me inflexible, I think it makes me thoughtful of my own mother's needs and comfort.
3). If anyone should have been apologizing for how it all went down, it should have been AM. My mom is an adult and is entitled to make kids eat lunch at a table not of their choosing. An apology only served to undermine her authority (which is pretty much non-existant with the kids) and mine.
4). When I was that age, if I had wanted to eat outside in the 100-degree heat, my parents' answer would have been "no" and that would have been the end of it, and they certainly would not have tolerated a damn hissy fit.
One of my biggest problems with my mom is her inability to let me be the mom. She is constantly trying to negotiate after I make the smallest of decisions on something (like whether to eat inside or outside). And then when I don't want to negotiate with her about it, she acts like I'm a rigid dictator. The problem is that someone in this family has to be the boss, and it can't be the kids, and that leaves me. It does't make me mean or rigid or inflexible--in fact proof of my flexibility could be seen when I was all "Sure--let's eat outside; oh wait--someone seems not OK with that plan so let's reevaluate the plan so that we're all comfortable." But when she comes to town and undermines my authority, it's just a miserable experience.
---
Just now she came back to the house after leaving, to inform us that the My Little Pony dolls the girls want from Target are sold out for the next two weeks. E is an emotional wreck most of the time, and news like that could shatter her, so I asked my mom not to mention it as E was happy at the moment.
Me: Please don't tell them that. E is happy right now and that's going to make her start crying.
My mom: Well, I don't want her to expect to get the doll the next time she sees me.
(Aside: I can totally address the issue with E between now and then, and E will cry, and I'll deal with it. I was just asking her not to go there right that second, because it was a brief moment of peace and I was enjoying it).
Me: Fine, go ahead and tell her, and she'll throw a fit.
My mom: No, it's fine. I'll go along with what you want. I ALWAYS DO.
---
I mean, it is just fucking exhausting. I invite her here to have a good day and she acts like I'm an inflexible bitch for making my kids eat inside so that she can keep cool. And then I ask her not to make one of my kids cry so that the brief moment of peace can continue, and she acts like I'm a bitch about that, too. She doesn't help when she's here. She causes more trouble and drama. It's like having a fourth child. I want to be a good daughter and to invite her to do things, but she can't just roll with the plan if even one person is upset. Why do I want to invite her when it's like this? But if I don't invite her to do things she gets her feelings hurt. If she could just be normal and HELP ME (or even just sit quietly while I parent), instead of inserting herself and making everything that much harder. Say what you will about my mother-in-law, but at least she HELPS me, and she never undermines my authority (and actually has lots of authority of her own over the kids, something my mom has never had and never will because she caves to the smallest hissy fit).
Sorry this is so long. I am so frustrated. I don't think I'm a bad person, or a bad daughter, or a bad mother. I'm afraid my mother thinks I'm all of the above, and it hurts. On some level I know she's mentally ill and I just have to accept that as part of who she is and love her anyway, and that is the hardest part.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)