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!!!!!!!!!!"

The Mom statues: New mom edition

i've written about all of the ridiculous statues my mom has given me over the years, but i never anticipated that having a baby would get her excited enough to find another creepy one. my husband particularly hates this one (sample of a recent convo about it: "why don't they have faces?" "would that really make it better?") but i think the sentiment behind it is sweet. i know he hopes we "lose it in the move" when we pack up our stuff this month and head to a new place, but i'm not sure i can do it. take a look for yourself.

The new Gas-X

i  have so many stories to catch this blog up on that i  have to skip them (i'm hoping to get back to them some day). in the meantime,  today i sent my mom a picture of my daughter's new favorite sleeping position: on her tummy, with her little rump in the air. this is how my mom responded:

Have to try that
Wonder if  that  relieves gas

the piano and the world's longest gestation

first off, i should mention that our beautiful baby girl was born on oct. 15 and we couldn't be happier (and by "we," i mean my husband, me and ... my mom). i will get into all of the stories that have happened since my daughter's birth, but i need to get in some other stories that happened during my pregnancy first.

i was lucky enough to have two baby showers -- one with family and one with friends. my mom, of course, decided to attend both. i was actually fine with it because throughout my pregnancy i was having all sorts of sentimental feelings about her, some of which i'll chalk up to insane hormones.

anyway, the family one was fine and she was mostly well behaved. the friend shower is another story.

first off, my mom had been bugging me about her piano in the weeks leading up to the shower. she had the piano from my childhood in her mother-in-law's house in canada. it had been there for years. suddenly, for reasons i still don't get, the piano had to be moved. my mom decided it should be moved to my apartment.

something of note: my husband and i live in a quaint two-bedroom apartment that fits us. at the time, we had a baby on the way and the baby stuff was piling up. the last thing i wanted to do was squeeze in a piano.

of course, i would love to have the piano -- if  i had the space. unfortunately, i didn't. i explained this to her, but she was unrelenting, leaving me voicemails, sending me emails and generally harassing me about it. i was so annoyed that i just stopped taking her calls or calling her back. and since we usually talk many times a week, she freaked out, thought i was dead, called my husband and called my sister to call my husband. one would think she would take the hint, but she was never one to understand or utilize subtly.

anyway, at the shower while i'm picking my mother-in-law up at the airport, my mom corners a friend of mine and says, "don't you think she should take my piano and put it here?" (pointing to a spot that is right next to my front door.) my friend, having no idea what my mom is talking about or why, said something like, "that would be nice" and tried to leave the conversation. but she didn't get far before my mom told her about the longest gestation in the history of the world: mine.

according to my mom, i was born "literally 30 days late."

once i got back from the airport, my friend pulled me aside to discuss the matters of the piano and gestation. i told her the piano was ridiculous but that the gestation thing was something my mom had created in her mind.

see, it turns out that when i got married, my mom gave me my baby book. and when i got pregnant, i actually read it.

there, in her own handwriting, it says that i was induced because i was two weeks late -- not 30 days. my mom also said that i was in the womb so long because they didn't have drugs to induce then. um, they did. and she writes about it in the baby book.

i mentioned this story to my brother (because he was also involved in stories at this shower -- more on that in the next post) who clearly remembered getting shipped to my aunt and uncle's house so that my mom could go to hospital, as *scheduled.*

anyway, i told my friend not to mention that i knew exactly how late i was born as i haven't actually told my mom that she wrote down a totally different story. i mean, she just loves telling it so much that i didn't have the heart to break hers in telling her the truth. it seems she thinks there was some sort of extra bond between us because i was with her 30 extra days. who am i to tell her our bonding time was only half of what she thinks?

i'll just let her go on believing her story. and holding onto the piano, which is now being shipped to her condo in fla.

they just start low, too

well, despite grandma's "bible trick," it turns out we're having a girl! i know! it's so crazy and we can hardly believe she'll be here in 3 1/2 months.

this news, of course, has been settling in since we found out, but one of my first thoughts was  "oh crap. someday she's going to write a blog about how crazy i am."

the fear of having a girl was swift: girls get pregnant, teenage girls are horrible people, girls might love their mothers but they resent becoming them, etc., etc.

my mother, of course, could not be happier about this outcome. there was an audible shriek when i told her the news (she also went right into telling me about her sick dogs -- again) and she has since created a nickname for the baby and spends a lot of time thinking about when she'll come visit and how long she'll stay.

it's actually been very sweet to see how excited she is about all of this. despite her lecturing me on drinking while pregnant (i, um, haven't, but thanks for the note!) -- including giving me the cliff notes from my sister's school presentation on fetal alcohol syndrome -- she's been very supportive and fun.

so, i suppose, a blog 30 years from now where my daughter talks about how ridiculous i am, how i talk over her and exclusively about my dogs is inevitable. in the meantime, it should be a wild ride -- for all three of us.