Restraint

There are so many things I could write about this weekend with my mom, but because I love her and am mature and caring, I will not. I will exercise restraint because I know karma is a bitch. I will not babble on and on for paragraphs about why she and I can't spend more than 36 hours together without a major blow-up. I won't write about how she's kind of off her rocker, not dealing well with age, not taking her meds, whatever. I won't write about how our visit all went to shit at 3:06 p.m. Saturday when my asshole husband had to try to talk politics with my raging conservative mother, and I DIDN'T STOP IT. Sure, I knew it could be bad, but I could not have predicted my inability to love George Bush would be taken as an indication of my inability to love my mother, a token of my lack of respect for her, the symbol of all that is wrong with our relationship. I could not have predicted the ensuing pain and drama, and I will not write about it!

This restraint is the same restraint I used time and time again this weekend, though I won't write about that either. About her constant barbs ("Maybe Clementine hates the car because of the way you drive stick shift," "Your hair used to be your best feature," "Wouldn't you like to dress cute like that mom?") and my refusal to acknowledge them or react in any way. I did not scream. I did not shout. I briefly tried to reason with her but then realized that if she had a motto it would be "Reason be damned!"

So there you go. We survived, and I had a long talk with darling C. about how you can love someone but still be driven crazy by her. My mom sent me a lovely email this morning, and I remember how well we got along, how good we felt about each other, when I lived in Thailand. It just really worked for us, which is awful to say but is so very true. I don't wish her away, don't hate her or anything like that. We are just oil and water together, and I'm exhausted from the weekend. I'm also keenly aware that my mom felt very similarly about her mom, and I need to ensure the cycle gets broken before Clementine is older and complaining about how high maintenance HER mother is.