Dear Diary ...

As we all know, my mom has a history of being, well, inappropriate. So you can imagine my utter shock when she all of a sudden told me that *her* mother tells her too many details about her sex life.

1. I don't need to know that my grandma ever had a sex life (I'm quite sure she doesn't now and I'm holding on to that no matter what).

2. Hello, Pot. Meet your mom, Kettle.

It seems my mom forgot that she told my brother the Craftmatic story. Or that she used to tell me about my dad writing in SWH (sex with husband) on her Palm Pilot calendar.  Not one to let her get away with that shit, I reminded her of the 2nd one. "How do you know that? Your dad told you?"

Yes, my dad, who was the MOST modest told me about your sexcapades. Um, no. (He would be mortified if he had known that fun fact.)

It's funny because she recently got her old diaries back (she didn't remember giving them to me back in high school either) and keeps talking about how she didn't remember things as they happened.

Also, I finally got up the nerve to read my baby book to her -- the part where it says I was induced after 2 weeks, not a month. "Well, they gave me a pill." Um, OK, yes then?

I just wish she had always kept a diary. I think her self perception would be VERY different and she might start piecing together some of the puzzle that is SJS.

Luckily for all of us, I've kept a diary for her here.

Stuck in the Middle With You

One morning, my mom, my daughter and I went out for a Girls Breakfast.  We were just chatting about the usual stuff when I got a message that my best friend -- who was pregnant at the same time as me and due that day -- had just given birth. Yay! So fun!

So my mom asked about the name. "Oh, they named her after his grandma. So her middle name is his mom's maiden name and her first daughter's middle name is her mom's maiden name."

"I think that's so stupid that people do that."

"Wait. Do what now?"

"Use a maiden name as a middle name."

Here is where I had to pause. Sometimes when you talk to my mom, you get the feeling that *you're* crazy, but then you realize that, no, she is.

"What are you talking about? I just gave my son a middle name based on his dad's grandma's maiden name. And I told you all of that when he was born [2 weeks prior]!"

She became totally flustered (but, I mean, seriously?!). "No that's a regular name."

"Crane is a regular name? Who has the name Crane besides a bird?"


And then she waved it off and I was still so stunned that we just stopped talking about it and moved on. 

Clean Up on Aisle 2

While my mom was here, she said she wantd to cook for us, which she did. That was awesome but she refused to go to the store by herself so she made me -- and my 2 week old son -- go w/ her.

We got to the store and I was fine at first and then, as any new mother would, I realized that all I could see were people's germs and then I just started feeling f'ing tired having pushed a kid out 2 weeks earlier and all.

I  told her I'd be in the car w/ my son and we'd wait for her to come out. 

I was in the car for about 2 minutes before she started calling.

"What do you like to eat w/ chicken?"

"Do you know what aisle the syrup is in?"

"Do you have your rewards card?"

So I went back in, rewards card in hand, baby strapped to my chest.

Of course, because I was so tired, I forgot to ask where the hell she was, so I waded through the sea of people with colds and such and went up and down row after row of foods until I found her ...

standing right in front of the jelly.

"Hide the Jelly and Break out the Rubber Sheets! SJS Is Coming to Town!"

That quote is from my husband once he found out my mom was coming to stay w/ us for 2+ weeks. More on what it means in a second.

See, I was pregnant w/ our 2nd kid and my mom said she wanted to be here to help us with our 3 year old during the birth. "Great!" I thought. And then she immediately booked her flight.

"When is he coming?"
"Well, I don't know. The due date is in November, but you know, the first one came early so this one probably will too. I'll know more once we start internal exams at week 37."

That, however, was apparently not good enough info and she booked her ticket somewhere in the 7th month to be here on the due date.

I reiterated that she was probably going to miss the whole show and that we'd need a back up plan. She responded, "I'm sure he'll wait for his grandma to arrive!"

My son arrived 2 weeks early.

Anyway, she came out 2 days before his due date -- and 2 weeks after he was born.

My husband is a wonderful man who has come to enjoy/tolerate her quirks over the years. One of them is that she loves jelly. She eats a lot of it. She'll go through jars of it.

The other is that she once told him she doesn't wear underwear to bed ("Everyone should air out at night!"). Not info he wanted while she slept on our couch.  Hence the quote.

The next few posts will be dedicated to her time here. There are many more stories, but I have a newborn so these few posts will have to suffice for now.

Death be not proud

My husband and I have a friend who works for the State Department and used to work for the president directly. He's one of the most generous, lovely people I've ever met. So when my dad died suddenly, our friend gave us one of the most thoughtful gifts he could have.

He had the president (of the United States!) send me a letter of condolence. Because I loved my dad and this was the president, after all, I posted the letter on Facebook.

Most people saw it and commented on what a wonderful man he must have been, how he did a great job raising us, how proud we must be, etc.

What my mom texted, instead, was:

Why did you get a note from the White House your dad was only in the service 4 years that I know of ... Just curious

"What's going on with your belly?"

My mom often has kind words for me. Though, lately, I can't recall any of them.

Earlier in the week, I sent out a first pic of my growing belly. I'm just under 3 months pregs, and, believe me, this one is making its presence known.

All pregnant women go through an "oh shit, I kind of just look fat" phase in the beginning and I'm finding it truer the second time around. I had another friend describe her second pregnancy as "the worst kept secret."

Turns out, I probably should have done those planks and sit-ups after No. 1 was born ...Alas, I didn't.

 So when I sent the first belly pic to my sister in law and mom, I expected to receive excited, sweet replies. I did -- from my sis in law, who wrote, "This just makes me smile :)"

And then I talked to my mom on the phone who, in the middle of the conversation said, "So, what's going on with your belly?"

"What? It's fine. Why?"

"I just mean it's so big for you not being very far along."

"Well, it's No. 2."

"Yeah, I don't remember that happening to me."

"Lucky you," is what I actually said. But what I wanted to say was, "Fuck you. You were 24 when you had your 2nd kid. I'm closing in on 40. And who says all of these terrible things to their kid anyway?"

She quickly changed the subject back to No. 1, about whom she still has nice things to say.

Her "Week From Hell"

Life has thrown my family some major curveballs in the last month.  On March 16, my father passed away. Two days earlier, my husband and I saw the first glimpse of our 2nd baby on an ultrasound (it all felt very Lightning Crashes).

Anyway, as you can imagine, this was (is) a traumatic time for me. My father and I were very close (no blog for him) and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Hearing the news on the heels of our baby news was even tougher. (I knew how I was going to tell him. He would have been thrilled.)

That said, it turns out there is a lot of "business" to be done when someone dies. Bills to pay, arrangements to be made, all while trying to process what the hell is going on.

My family rallied and everyone was willing to take on responsibilities and make it easier for our stepmom. My mom tried but ... just couldn't.

First, she told me that my stepmom should have decided to hold the funeral where she (my mom) lives. Not where my dad and stepmom lived.

Then, she said the dates of the funeral -- and subsequent burial (in my mom's state) -- didn't work for her. She told my brother she was "not getting any closure."

Then, in a *moment* of selflessness, she offered to buy the obit in the paper in her state (where my brother and sister also live). All she had to do was send them the info (that I had sent her) and pay the bill.

Well, this apparently was too much for her. I got 2 texts, a voicemail and another frantic call.  She couldn't figure it out, she said. She was overwhelmed, she said. She needed to lie down, she said. And then she said what I just couldn't even believe: She was having "a week from hell."

What I said, "OK. I'll figure it out for you."

What I wanted to say, "Really? You should try losing your dad while pregnant. And then deal with a mother who can't do anything for herself. That's super easy." But I didn't. What was the point? It would only make her upset -- and that was the last thing I needed to deal with (again).

The good/weird news is, she never called any of us while we went to the funeral. I think we all needed the break from her, but we all noticed. That's the thing about her, we can't stand when she butts in but we want her to at least ask. She usually doesn't.

Turning a blind eye

Earlier today, I texted both my mom and mother in law a picture of my daughter's first haircut.  My MIL sent me a private text back that read : Wow! Grown up girl! So pretty!!"

My mom, however, texted the group back with: Oh so cute at animal hospital all day Bentley blind in one eye other issues :(

first of all, yes, I'm thrilled she acknowledged my daughter first. And she has a tendency to follow up nice things with odd info about her dogs. secondly, god only knows what my MIL thinks. I don't think she knows who Bentley is and since I then sent my mom a PM, the questions may still remain.

anyway, in my PM i asked her how her dog was and what was going on. I got this response about 5 hours later:

An infection under his neck
Pusie smells terrible
Won't eat or drink or go to the bathroom -- won't move at all just wimpers (sic).

Now, i have to say, it sounds terrible. but the 2nd sentence had me laughing out loud. a lot. so much so that i sent the text to both my brother and sister.  As we all know, my mom's texting is ... well ... unusual sometimes but we also know that she lacks boundaries so who the hell knew what she meant? my brother confirmed she meant "pus" and that the dog is OK, despite my mom's diagnosis.

I'm kind of shocked autocorrect didn't catch that one (really, autocorrect? of all the things to let slip) but it gave me and my siblings a laugh, which was nice.  I'll find out more about her pup but for now the mystery of the terrible smelling pusie has been solved.

Case of the Ex

As I previously posted, my mom got divorced recently.  I'm not one to judge reactions to things like divorce and death -- there's too much happening to decide how someone else should handle it. However,  there are some things I know you're not supposed to do.

The divorce was not a pretty one. There were allegations of abuse and stalking and other generally terrifying behavior.

So you can imagine how disappointing/sad/weird/scary it was to hear that my mom was going to see her recently ex husband. Not only did she see him, she had him over to her house. While she was there. Alone.

There's always an excuse with my mom. Like, she knows her behavior warrants judgement so she just gets an excuse ready to say when you question it. This time? Well, clearly, her ex had to see their dogs.

It should be mentioned that over the years, said ex has threatened to 1. have the dogs put to sleep 2. take the dogs away.  It should also be mentioned that when I brought up the "you might not want the man you had a restraining order against in your house" she had another excuse: "well, he's already found my house online and has pictures of the inside without ever having been here." Um, not a red flag then? OK.  So, of course, it's only logicial that he would be in Minnesota on "business" and need to "visit the dogs."

I'm not sure if all of that is a euphemism for something else but I do know that it can be incredibly frustrating as her kid to watch her make terrible mistake after terrible mistake and act like she's the victim.

The ex hasn't been back to the house. But, it seems, he's now fallen ill (convenient but probably true: he's overweight, drinks and lives a stress-created life).  She's headed to florida soon to get her 1/2 of the furniture they agreed upon in the divorce. Here's to hoping he doesn't "visit the dogs" again.

Shirley You Jest

During a recent call with my mom, we were talking about my daughter's latest tricks and antics. As you'll recall, image is important to my mother, which helps explain her next inexplicable thought:

"She's ready to go shopping with us on Montana Ave. (I think she read about it in Us Weekly or something). She'll have little anklet socks with ruffles that turn down over her patent leather Mary Janes. And she'll wear little gloves and carry a purse -- she's definitely ready fora  little purse -- and ..."

In the beginning of that schpiel, my reaction was "awh" and then quickly turned to "huh?" I mean, how long has she been formulating this fantasy? She somehow turned my adorable but tough girl into Shirley Temple. But even Shirley didn't have to wear gloves to go shopping (did she?).

It should be mentioned that she has sent Mary Janes, ruffle socks and gloves since the girl was born but in my mind they were meant for some box of dress up clothes that she took out when she wasn't playing with her trains or coloring Dora books. I didn't actually think she'd be wearing them out of the house.  (Btw, this is the same girl who didn't last 30 minutes in her Christmas dress because it was "too itchy.") I'm trying to imagine what I would even say to people working -- or even walking down the street. My guess is it would be something like, "Oh she just loves to play dress up" as I hurried us off.

In the meantime, I'm sure my mother would interrupt and talk over me with something about how it was the only acceptable thing for a 2 year old to wear while shopping on Montana Ave. (she has to say the whole name, every time).  No word on whether there will be parasols but I'm sure I'll receive one before her next trip.

2013: A Year in Mom Review

According to the live posts on this blog, I skipped 2013 all together. It's not totally true -- there are many draft posts just waiting to be rewritten and published, but why not just skip that and give you the highlights?

2013 was a year of transition for my mom. She got divorced, moved back to Minnesota (where my siblings get new, blog-worthy stories *daily*) and tried to assimilate.

Highlights:

- That time we visited Minnesota and she said she deserved more time w/ my daughter than my siblings -- even though she was spending 4 days w/ her alone the next month

- That time she forgot to tell my brother he would be watching her dogs (along w/ his dogs) while she came to visit us

- That time she posted her home address on the internet and then told me she must have been hacked

- That time she told me she was saging her house b/c her dog kept barking at the stairs

- That time she complained she didn't have any money to pay bills and then told her family that if she won the lotto, she would spend it on ... a new BMW.

 - That time she taught my daughter (who calls her "Mom" b/c I do) to say, "Mom toots!" Loudly. In public.


That about wraps it up. On NYE this year, I got a text from her wishing me a happy new year. I told her 2014 is going to be a great year.

"Yes it is!!!!!!!!!!"