Hi peeps. Thank you so much for your words of support while I go through this very strange time in my life. It means so much to me that I can 'hear' the words I need to hear, regardless of where they come from and from whom. I'm lucky to have such a fantastic support system.
The mom and I went to a two-hour mediation appointment with my therapist yesterday afternoon. I took the day off work to finish up some of the house things we started this weekend (which look freakin' awesome; pics soon), so I was able to spend the morning centering myself and feeling grounded. I think this was the most important thing I could have done prior to this meeting.
My therapist/counselor/spiritual guide is a truly gifted person. He knew we were both nervous, and started us out when we didn't really know where to begin. He started by asking what both of us thought the other might not understand about the situation. I wish I could do this all the time in my life when I encounter a conflict, because it is such a compassionate and non-loaded way of saying how you feel. I said mine, my mom said hers, and I think that was all it took. She finally saw why what she had done was so destructive--strangely enough, before this she really had NO IDEA that she had damaged our relationship so badly--and I saw how really screwed up she is right now. Well, not so much screwed up as she is confused and dealing with a lifetime of issues that have been constantly pushed away. Fifty-some years of not dealing tends to catch up to a person like fire in an oil drum; BOOM. I feel for her and what she is going through, but because of the events of the past month or so, I don't feel tied to her fate and responsible for her happiness like I have in the past. She is going through some shit; shit that she can't see her way out of right now, and that really sucks.
But what I came away with from this meeting was basically this: My mom is a scared, fearful, negative person right now (she hasn't always been), and the best thing she could have done for me was to kick me out. She didn't realize it was so hurtful, but because it was, it forced me to become completely detached and independent from her in a way that I never had before. At first I was so hurt and angry--which I still own and those feelings are mine, and I was reacting the way that I think most people would have reacted--but now I have some perspective. I also heard her saying that what she did had nothing to do with me, and that filled me with a sense of relief. One of the things I was dreading about this meeting was what my mom might say to me--my faults, maybe something I did that I didn't realize, stuff like that--and I am so glad that this situation came solely from her issues. I felt that this was about her from the beginning, but it is hard to pull yourself out of the equation when the person involves you so immediately in it. And I'm sure that there is something pretty selfish about my relief, but I also know enough about myself to not hold it against myself. I can't fix her. I can fix me. I work on it everyday. I look for opportunities to grow, even when it might be painful (like this mediation session), and so I know what I can do and what I can handle, and what I can't. I can't fix my mom, but I can have compassion for what she is going through. I can't fix it for her, but I can be there for her. I am approaching this from a place of love--letting go of my ego for a bit--and realizing that the things that happen to me are not necessarily about me. (Not that I would let her do something like this to me again, not at ALL; but now I know what to say to her if she does, and that is pretty empowering.)
And the two biggest things: She finally apologized, and I was able to hug her and tell her I love her, and really mean it.
Now, I hope that she can get through this crap she is going through and come out a better person on the other side. I see her desire to do that; she just doesn't know how to go about it. She will start seeing my therapist on her own, and I am hopeful that she owns who she is and fulfills all the potential within herself, because she is an amazing human being. I hope for her what I have found for myself over the last year: internal peace, personal understanding and acceptance, and a whole lotta self-love.
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
11.11.2008
11.06.2008
Conflict Resolution
My mom and I have a mediation appointment on Monday with my therapist. He thinks that we will be able to work through this. I'm nervous, anxious, and conflicted with wanting to get this over with versus not wanting to deal with it at all.
I'm doing it. And I'm trying to come at it from a place of love. It is hard to do that and still retain my grasp on how I feel about the situation. But I'm working on it.
A part of me doesn't want to resolve this, because it has been almost blissful being away from this incredibly intense and stressful relationship. But she is my mom, and I guess I'm stuck with her. I might as well make the best of it.
God, this is more nerve-wracking than her actually kicking us out.
But! In good news! We are putting in the flooring, kitchen, and bathrooms this weekend! Squee.
I'm doing it. And I'm trying to come at it from a place of love. It is hard to do that and still retain my grasp on how I feel about the situation. But I'm working on it.
A part of me doesn't want to resolve this, because it has been almost blissful being away from this incredibly intense and stressful relationship. But she is my mom, and I guess I'm stuck with her. I might as well make the best of it.
God, this is more nerve-wracking than her actually kicking us out.
But! In good news! We are putting in the flooring, kitchen, and bathrooms this weekend! Squee.
10.20.2008
10.13.2008
Mommy Dearest
Ok, are you ready for this?
With five weeks left until we can move into our new home, the woman I knew as "Mom" has kicked my husband and I out of her basement where we are living (if you can call it that) while we are building a house.
...
She told me this while I was at work on Friday. There was no fight. There was no drug-running from the basement. No broken windows. No band practice. No exorbitant power bills. The reason? She and her boyfriend need privacy.
To say that I'm reeling is a drastic understatement. To say that I'm devastated is closer to the truth. To say that I've never felt so alone in my entire life is pretty spot on. I feel like my mom has died--that is how out of character this is.
She told me this over the phone. I sobbed at work. I went for a walk and came back. I sobbed more.
She has yet to look at me, much less speak to me.
Luckily for me and my little family unit, we have an amazing support system. Within 2 hours of finding out I have nowhere to live, we had secured a place to live in rent free with our animals until we can finish the house.
Oh yeah, did I mention that we are just now beginning to do our finishing work on the house? The house that I WAS living 30 feet from in order to make that work more convenient, but now have to travel 30 minutes one way to reach? Did I mention that we are doing all the flooring, building the kitchen, building both bathrooms, painting, and running the trim? Did I mention that? Because I think the woman I called "mom" has forgotten. Strange, she is only 51. Early onset Alzheimer's? I wish.
So tonight marks our first night in a being-remodeled rental. The hubs and I are finishing the remodel work in the rental in exchange for the place to stay. And we are finishing our house at the same time. Awesome.
I might be a bit M.I.A. for the next couple of weeks, but when our house is done I promise I'll have pictures.
Does anyone know what to do when your mom decides you are no longer a part of her life? Because these are new and risky waters for me. I could use a good word. Maybe I can get a mix from Ms. Mix & Bitch.
With five weeks left until we can move into our new home, the woman I knew as "Mom" has kicked my husband and I out of her basement where we are living (if you can call it that) while we are building a house.
...
She told me this while I was at work on Friday. There was no fight. There was no drug-running from the basement. No broken windows. No band practice. No exorbitant power bills. The reason? She and her boyfriend need privacy.
To say that I'm reeling is a drastic understatement. To say that I'm devastated is closer to the truth. To say that I've never felt so alone in my entire life is pretty spot on. I feel like my mom has died--that is how out of character this is.
She told me this over the phone. I sobbed at work. I went for a walk and came back. I sobbed more.
She has yet to look at me, much less speak to me.
Luckily for me and my little family unit, we have an amazing support system. Within 2 hours of finding out I have nowhere to live, we had secured a place to live in rent free with our animals until we can finish the house.
Oh yeah, did I mention that we are just now beginning to do our finishing work on the house? The house that I WAS living 30 feet from in order to make that work more convenient, but now have to travel 30 minutes one way to reach? Did I mention that we are doing all the flooring, building the kitchen, building both bathrooms, painting, and running the trim? Did I mention that? Because I think the woman I called "mom" has forgotten. Strange, she is only 51. Early onset Alzheimer's? I wish.
So tonight marks our first night in a being-remodeled rental. The hubs and I are finishing the remodel work in the rental in exchange for the place to stay. And we are finishing our house at the same time. Awesome.
I might be a bit M.I.A. for the next couple of weeks, but when our house is done I promise I'll have pictures.
Does anyone know what to do when your mom decides you are no longer a part of her life? Because these are new and risky waters for me. I could use a good word. Maybe I can get a mix from Ms. Mix & Bitch.
4.30.2008
Hump Day Bullets
- I want more ink. Like, now. (That would be the tattoo type ink. Not, like, quill ink.)
- I usually love my job, but I have hit a huge motivation pothole, and it popped my fucking tires.
- Our house is a-getting built! Woooo hooo! The kitchen is going to have that cool half door where you can open just the top or just the bottom or both. I heart options!
- My friend Not-So-Modest Mouse is a baaaad blog updater, but an awesome fucking YouTube treasure hunter. Unicorn Planet HEYYY! And damn if I will ever NOT drink Guinness without a straw. Ever again.
- I'm itching to grow a garden and start canning. And making fresh salsa. And drinking margaritas.
- Me and hubs are going to Mexico HEYYY!
- My mom (guh, I can't believe I'm about to say this) asked me for advice about sex toys. shakes head violently to prevent mental images. FUCK. Didn't work. AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
1.29.2008
Back in the Saddle (or, Why My Mother is The Shit)
If you know me in person, and some of you do, then you know that my dad passed away almost two years ago. (Two years?!? Time heals not. It is simply the blessing of the fading memory of pain.) He and my mom were together for 20 years. Needless to say, she was more than devastated, as we all were, when he passed away at age 48. Too, too young.
I don't know if this is a saying, but I'm convinced that it is easier to let go of someone you loved tremendously, someone that you had a wonderful relationship with, than it is to get past a complicated and tumultuous relationship when the other person has died. My mom and dad had a really lovely relationship. It was filled with the small, romantic things that everyone says they want: hidden candies behind the coffee maker, just so she knows he's thinking about her; a bouquet of fresh flowers every Friday ("Friday Flowers"); washing and waxing her car on Sundays--all the good stuff. While the sudden way in which he died was traumatic and completely heartbreaking, we still have all of these small, sweet memories to invoke his presence anytime we choose. A tearful smile, remembering those thoughtful things that showed us every day how he loved us.
After my dad passed, my husband and I moved in with my mom for two months. She was less than a shell of a person, and we constantly worried for her well-being. But my mother comes from a line of women that are both strong, crazy, and crazystrong. And I really mean that. If you ever meet me, you will know what I'm talking about.
My mother is the strongest woman I have ever known. My father passing is one of the lesser traumas in her lifetime. She is my she-ro (thanks for the slang, Verm).
So my mom, now a sexy 50 year old, is single (she refuses to don "widow." She says, "I'm not some dried up old woman that is going to whither away until I die, dammit!") for the first time in a while, and is living alone for the first time in her entire LIFE. She is retired from being an incredibly successful business woman, she is building a new home, and is finally starting to ask herself this question: What do I really want?
I don't know what other people's experiences are, but from my observation, it is hard for single, middle-aged women to find decent dates. My mom, who had been dodging dates left and right, has complained for the past year that all the guys her age are bald, fat, and generally unattractive. And for the most part, I have to agree with her. Where do all the cute older guys go? Friends have been trying to set her up on dates, but with, like, 76 year old retired doctors.
Now, for reference, my mom is a very young 50 year old. She has gray hair, but her face doesn't look a day over 30 (good news for me! woo!). She has an amazing rack, she loves to play, she is learning how to drink (lightweight doesn't begin to describe her tolerance), and she is still in her sexual prime. She doesn't want to date someone that can't control their urine stream. Shit, she doesn't want to date someone with slightly thinning hair! (My dad had a full head of REALLY thick hair. What can I say, she's spoiled! In that regard.) I told her she was just gonna have to find a younger guy. She laughed that off, as she does most of my compliments because she doesn't think she deserves it. Wait, let me rephrase that: she used to laugh that off.
Lately, my mom has blossomed. And not just come out of mourning. She used this horrible experience (losing the love of your life, when your life was really just beginning) to grow herself, to become a better her, and to take life by the horns and really experience it. I guess the long and short of it is: my mom has a boyfriend.
Yes! She does! For the first time in 20 years! And he is HOT. He is 6'3", dark hair, a political writer and commentator (for which I will forgive him, and probably draw him into a lively debate at some point down the road), a singer, and best of all, he is totally infatuated with her.
And she is the happiest I have ever seen her. GO MOM! I love you.
I don't know if this is a saying, but I'm convinced that it is easier to let go of someone you loved tremendously, someone that you had a wonderful relationship with, than it is to get past a complicated and tumultuous relationship when the other person has died. My mom and dad had a really lovely relationship. It was filled with the small, romantic things that everyone says they want: hidden candies behind the coffee maker, just so she knows he's thinking about her; a bouquet of fresh flowers every Friday ("Friday Flowers"); washing and waxing her car on Sundays--all the good stuff. While the sudden way in which he died was traumatic and completely heartbreaking, we still have all of these small, sweet memories to invoke his presence anytime we choose. A tearful smile, remembering those thoughtful things that showed us every day how he loved us.
After my dad passed, my husband and I moved in with my mom for two months. She was less than a shell of a person, and we constantly worried for her well-being. But my mother comes from a line of women that are both strong, crazy, and crazystrong. And I really mean that. If you ever meet me, you will know what I'm talking about.
My mother is the strongest woman I have ever known. My father passing is one of the lesser traumas in her lifetime. She is my she-ro (thanks for the slang, Verm).
So my mom, now a sexy 50 year old, is single (she refuses to don "widow." She says, "I'm not some dried up old woman that is going to whither away until I die, dammit!") for the first time in a while, and is living alone for the first time in her entire LIFE. She is retired from being an incredibly successful business woman, she is building a new home, and is finally starting to ask herself this question: What do I really want?
I don't know what other people's experiences are, but from my observation, it is hard for single, middle-aged women to find decent dates. My mom, who had been dodging dates left and right, has complained for the past year that all the guys her age are bald, fat, and generally unattractive. And for the most part, I have to agree with her. Where do all the cute older guys go? Friends have been trying to set her up on dates, but with, like, 76 year old retired doctors.
Now, for reference, my mom is a very young 50 year old. She has gray hair, but her face doesn't look a day over 30 (good news for me! woo!). She has an amazing rack, she loves to play, she is learning how to drink (lightweight doesn't begin to describe her tolerance), and she is still in her sexual prime. She doesn't want to date someone that can't control their urine stream. Shit, she doesn't want to date someone with slightly thinning hair! (My dad had a full head of REALLY thick hair. What can I say, she's spoiled! In that regard.) I told her she was just gonna have to find a younger guy. She laughed that off, as she does most of my compliments because she doesn't think she deserves it. Wait, let me rephrase that: she used to laugh that off.Lately, my mom has blossomed. And not just come out of mourning. She used this horrible experience (losing the love of your life, when your life was really just beginning) to grow herself, to become a better her, and to take life by the horns and really experience it. I guess the long and short of it is: my mom has a boyfriend.
Yes! She does! For the first time in 20 years! And he is HOT. He is 6'3", dark hair, a political writer and commentator (for which I will forgive him, and probably draw him into a lively debate at some point down the road), a singer, and best of all, he is totally infatuated with her.
And she is the happiest I have ever seen her. GO MOM! I love you.
7.19.2007
What I Don't Love, Revisted
This morning, I'm driving to work, happily singing along to a Nirvana song on the radio, when my cell phone rings. It's the mother.
I pick up: "Hello?"
Mom: "Kara, I know you told me not to email you, because that made you angry, but someone is coming to look at the house today and your bed isn't made."
Me: "Wait, Mom, I wasn't angry that you emailed me. I thought you were angry at me so I wanted to talk to you and make sure you weren't. Anyway, it doesn't take long to make the bed."
Mom: "Kara, I am so tired of feeling like you won't fulfill your side of the bargain. And I have too much other shit to do with cleaning the house before these people get here. At least I have some time to do it, but....."
Me: "MOM. What do you want me to do, turn around and come make the damn bed?"
Mom: "No, but I just want you to be aware of how you are making more work for me."
Me: "I'll be there in seven minutes."
I call my boss, tell her I'll be late. Luckily, she is the coolest boss ever, so no feathers are ruffled there. I get home, my mom doesn't even LOOK at me when I walk in the door. I go downstairs and make the bed, on top of which she has dumped every single thing that was on the floor in my room. So, to make nicey-nice, I even throw a load of clothes into the washer. I go upstairs.
Me: "Mom, do you have anything else to say?"
Mom: *complete silence, as she continues to wash dishes*
Me: *walking out the door, and as a last minute thought I slam it with as much strength as I can muster*
One thing I absolutely cannot stand is the silent treatment.
So, Mom, how did the showing go? Was it worth straining our already strained relationship?
I am so furious right now.
On top of that, I went by the rental house at lunch and it still has fleas. My husband's brother and his wife are in town today for the weekend, so of course we have to stay at my mom's, with all her passive aggression and inability to communicate. What a nightmare. Thank god I'll be exponentially busy this weekend, competing in the 48 Hour Film Festival.
I need some serious cheering up, peeps.
Boo-hoo.
UPDATE: So I was totally dreading going back to her house, but when I did, she came up and hugged me, and gave me this look that said, "We don't have to say anything. All is forgiven and I am sorry. Let's be good." And, you know, that felt pretty good. Luckily I had had all day, and the ears of some good friends, to help me come down from my pillar of anger. So I hugged her back, and smiled.
I pick up: "Hello?"
Mom: "Kara, I know you told me not to email you, because that made you angry, but someone is coming to look at the house today and your bed isn't made."
Me: "Wait, Mom, I wasn't angry that you emailed me. I thought you were angry at me so I wanted to talk to you and make sure you weren't. Anyway, it doesn't take long to make the bed."
Mom: "Kara, I am so tired of feeling like you won't fulfill your side of the bargain. And I have too much other shit to do with cleaning the house before these people get here. At least I have some time to do it, but....."
Me: "MOM. What do you want me to do, turn around and come make the damn bed?"
Mom: "No, but I just want you to be aware of how you are making more work for me."
Me: "I'll be there in seven minutes."
I call my boss, tell her I'll be late. Luckily, she is the coolest boss ever, so no feathers are ruffled there. I get home, my mom doesn't even LOOK at me when I walk in the door. I go downstairs and make the bed, on top of which she has dumped every single thing that was on the floor in my room. So, to make nicey-nice, I even throw a load of clothes into the washer. I go upstairs.
Me: "Mom, do you have anything else to say?"
Mom: *complete silence, as she continues to wash dishes*
Me: *walking out the door, and as a last minute thought I slam it with as much strength as I can muster*
One thing I absolutely cannot stand is the silent treatment.
So, Mom, how did the showing go? Was it worth straining our already strained relationship?
I am so furious right now.
On top of that, I went by the rental house at lunch and it still has fleas. My husband's brother and his wife are in town today for the weekend, so of course we have to stay at my mom's, with all her passive aggression and inability to communicate. What a nightmare. Thank god I'll be exponentially busy this weekend, competing in the 48 Hour Film Festival.
I need some serious cheering up, peeps.
Boo-hoo.
UPDATE: So I was totally dreading going back to her house, but when I did, she came up and hugged me, and gave me this look that said, "We don't have to say anything. All is forgiven and I am sorry. Let's be good." And, you know, that felt pretty good. Luckily I had had all day, and the ears of some good friends, to help me come down from my pillar of anger. So I hugged her back, and smiled.
7.16.2007
I Love: My Mom. I Don't Love: Living with My Mom.
It was inevitable. Things were going too well. I don't know why I didn't see it coming.
I mean, I'm a married woman. I have run my own household for going on 10 years. I have been financially independent for going on the same decade. But I had to move in with Mom.
My mom is an amazing woman. Seriously. I could go on forever about how she was an opera singer, became an incredibly successful stockbroker with no college education (other than performing arts school, and we know how THAT goes), divorced an incredibly abusive mother and first husband, raised three children and pulled her second husband out of a mountain of debt due to a disastrous first marriage, is a painter, a quilter, a chef, a master gardener, etc. etc. etc., but you might not believe me. In short, she is fucking AMAZING.
HOWEVER! One of the main character issues that comes with the territory of an overachiever (and trust me on this, I AM my mother's daughter) is the control issue.
So, how I ended up living with my mother, again:
Me and my hubs R are building a house. It is on a beautiful piece of land that feels like it is in bum-fuck, but is only 20 minutes from our downtown area. This has been a slow process, starting in March (our land is only just now graded, for those of you to have built your own house, and this is very necessary as we live in the mountains). We put our condo on the market, and wonder of wonders, it sold in a little over a month. Yippee for us! Condo is sold! Bad for us, house is not built, nowhere to go.
My mom has a big ass house. 6 bedrooms, lots of living area, a bar in the basement (seriously, it's awesome), a hot tub, fenced in for the pups. So she offers to let us stay there while we save more money for the house building. R and I think, great! We can save money! But how long can we actually live with her??
Well, it takes about three months to get to the center of the fucking tootsie pop, my friends. Three. Long. Months.
Several Reasons Why The Last Three Months Have Been The Longest Three Months of My Life:
1. My mom's house is for sale. This makes my perfectionist mother an absolute nightmare to live with about house cleaning. And me and the hubs are pretty neat people. She is the Ghangis Kahn of clean.
2. My mom's bitter mood swings. She's working it out. And we are the chopping block.
3. My social life consists ONLY of going out. Rarely do I invite people over, because I will have to deal with the passive aggressive repercussions for weeks afterwards. (Mom: Boo, have you cleaned up the corners of the bathroom where your friend [insert cool, nice friend's name here] might have stepped in dog poo and then walked into the corner in the bathroom? Me: Ummm..... not so much. Mom: *BALLISTIC*)
4. I can't walk around naked. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but come on, that makes for the most embarrassing conversation about groceries I never want to have.
5. Everything strange that happens in the house is the direct fault of me or my hubs.
6. Me and hubs had to celebrate our first wedding anniversary there, with my mom watching some crap really loudly on the TV. We finally decided to scrap a home cooked meal and go out and get drunk.
7. My mom's new PDA has speakerphone. She uses it ALL THE TIME. It is really annoying.
8. Our bedroom is directly beneath the kitchen, and even on the weekends my mom is up around 6am. BOOO for sleeping in!!!
9. My mom has extended big cable package, and watches complete crap on it all day long. Example: you know that really fucking annoying Geico commercial with the cavemen, and how they are making an actual sitcom out of that shit? (I'm dead serious.) My mom is SO into that.
10. And lastly, the biggest reason why living with my mom is unbearable right now: she makes me call her if I'm going to be out late. I'M a 27 YEAR OLD MARRIED WOMAN, AND SHE ACTS LIKE I STILL HAVE A CURFEW.
So, I know all two of you are thinking, Well, Boo, why not just move out?
At the end of June, me and the hubs signed a lease to rent a little house until our new house is built (halleluiah). This little house is so cute. The yard is fenced in for the pup, it is only a 7 minute walk to my office, a 2 minute walk to the awesome organic foods store, and an 8 minute walk to the bars downtown. On the first day of July, we started bringing boxes from our storage unit into said house. After about 5 minutes, I look down at my feet, and they are covered, and I mean COVERED, in fleas. GAH!!! GAH GAH GAH!!!!
We bomb the house. Next day we go back, fleas are still there. We bomb it again. Next day we go back, fleas are still there. We call Terminix and they spray the shit out of it. Fleas ARE STILL THERE!!!!! To date, Terminix has sprayed the house 4 times, and I just heard from hubs today. He went by the house at lunch, and yep, fleas are still fucking there.
So, just when it seemed we were free and clear, going to be living our own lives again, the worst flea infestation our bug guy has ever seen (!) has happened in the house we rented.
I mean, it is almost unbelievable. OH! And get this: my mom, the one who has been the challenge to my mental stability for the past three months, is sad we are moving out, and of course taking it out on us.
At this point, I'm about ready to just live with the fucking fleas.
I mean, I'm a married woman. I have run my own household for going on 10 years. I have been financially independent for going on the same decade. But I had to move in with Mom.
My mom is an amazing woman. Seriously. I could go on forever about how she was an opera singer, became an incredibly successful stockbroker with no college education (other than performing arts school, and we know how THAT goes), divorced an incredibly abusive mother and first husband, raised three children and pulled her second husband out of a mountain of debt due to a disastrous first marriage, is a painter, a quilter, a chef, a master gardener, etc. etc. etc., but you might not believe me. In short, she is fucking AMAZING.
HOWEVER! One of the main character issues that comes with the territory of an overachiever (and trust me on this, I AM my mother's daughter) is the control issue.
So, how I ended up living with my mother, again:
Me and my hubs R are building a house. It is on a beautiful piece of land that feels like it is in bum-fuck, but is only 20 minutes from our downtown area. This has been a slow process, starting in March (our land is only just now graded, for those of you to have built your own house, and this is very necessary as we live in the mountains). We put our condo on the market, and wonder of wonders, it sold in a little over a month. Yippee for us! Condo is sold! Bad for us, house is not built, nowhere to go.
My mom has a big ass house. 6 bedrooms, lots of living area, a bar in the basement (seriously, it's awesome), a hot tub, fenced in for the pups. So she offers to let us stay there while we save more money for the house building. R and I think, great! We can save money! But how long can we actually live with her??
Well, it takes about three months to get to the center of the fucking tootsie pop, my friends. Three. Long. Months.
Several Reasons Why The Last Three Months Have Been The Longest Three Months of My Life:
1. My mom's house is for sale. This makes my perfectionist mother an absolute nightmare to live with about house cleaning. And me and the hubs are pretty neat people. She is the Ghangis Kahn of clean.
2. My mom's bitter mood swings. She's working it out. And we are the chopping block.
3. My social life consists ONLY of going out. Rarely do I invite people over, because I will have to deal with the passive aggressive repercussions for weeks afterwards. (Mom: Boo, have you cleaned up the corners of the bathroom where your friend [insert cool, nice friend's name here] might have stepped in dog poo and then walked into the corner in the bathroom? Me: Ummm..... not so much. Mom: *BALLISTIC*)
4. I can't walk around naked. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but come on, that makes for the most embarrassing conversation about groceries I never want to have.
5. Everything strange that happens in the house is the direct fault of me or my hubs.
6. Me and hubs had to celebrate our first wedding anniversary there, with my mom watching some crap really loudly on the TV. We finally decided to scrap a home cooked meal and go out and get drunk.
7. My mom's new PDA has speakerphone. She uses it ALL THE TIME. It is really annoying.
8. Our bedroom is directly beneath the kitchen, and even on the weekends my mom is up around 6am. BOOO for sleeping in!!!
9. My mom has extended big cable package, and watches complete crap on it all day long. Example: you know that really fucking annoying Geico commercial with the cavemen, and how they are making an actual sitcom out of that shit? (I'm dead serious.) My mom is SO into that.
10. And lastly, the biggest reason why living with my mom is unbearable right now: she makes me call her if I'm going to be out late. I'M a 27 YEAR OLD MARRIED WOMAN, AND SHE ACTS LIKE I STILL HAVE A CURFEW.
So, I know all two of you are thinking, Well, Boo, why not just move out?
At the end of June, me and the hubs signed a lease to rent a little house until our new house is built (halleluiah). This little house is so cute. The yard is fenced in for the pup, it is only a 7 minute walk to my office, a 2 minute walk to the awesome organic foods store, and an 8 minute walk to the bars downtown. On the first day of July, we started bringing boxes from our storage unit into said house. After about 5 minutes, I look down at my feet, and they are covered, and I mean COVERED, in fleas. GAH!!! GAH GAH GAH!!!!
We bomb the house. Next day we go back, fleas are still there. We bomb it again. Next day we go back, fleas are still there. We call Terminix and they spray the shit out of it. Fleas ARE STILL THERE!!!!! To date, Terminix has sprayed the house 4 times, and I just heard from hubs today. He went by the house at lunch, and yep, fleas are still fucking there.
So, just when it seemed we were free and clear, going to be living our own lives again, the worst flea infestation our bug guy has ever seen (!) has happened in the house we rented.
I mean, it is almost unbelievable. OH! And get this: my mom, the one who has been the challenge to my mental stability for the past three months, is sad we are moving out, and of course taking it out on us.
At this point, I'm about ready to just live with the fucking fleas.
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