Happy cats make for happy homes

adolescence Alabama beliefs blogging calm change Chicago crisis crushes dreams family fear flint hills food friends happiness health being a hippie holiday home internship kids loss love magic memories money music parties perfection plants projects relationships relaxation reminiscing ritual school social work issues spirits sports stress style the South violence weather weather worries writing



Go now. Go.

There’s something about Sunday night
that really makes you want to kill yourself
Subscribe to this blog
for e-mail updates

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

I survived

My parents are down on the gulf now, enjoying, hopefully, not tornados. (We were under a severe tornado watch this morning!)

The visit was really nice. I realize--sorry Katie--that it's much easier to get along with my parents when my sister is not around. It's unfortunate, because she's really my favorite person ever, so I'd love her to visit as well, but I think it also makes sense. We fall into past patterns of behavior when it's all four of us. I revert back to the rebellious 16-year-old who disagreed with everything, and my mom tries to tell me what to do.

Well, she still tries to tell me what to do, but now I just smile and nod. She got really into helping me plan my Easter brunch, and decided that I should make a sausage egg bake. Instead of saying, "hell no way am I making that--Tim doesn't eat pork!" (and subsequently explain why, even though all the guests and I eat pork, I still won't make it), I said, "that sounds delicious!" and let her write it down on the menu. She won't know later what I make, anyway.

The only thing that really bothered me is that she's not good with apologies. She never apologizes, and doesn't take mine well. By not well, I mean: she doesn't say "thank you" and drop it. I generally never apologize to my family on principle. The principle being, I am kind of a bitch when it comes to family. But being with Tim has made me a little softer, so I apologized for being a little bratty. And instead of accepting it and moving on, she started talking about how it's important not to yell at the people you love. Which, of course, is a response that pisses me off and makes me yell some more.

I'm not sixteen anymore, and I get the impression she'll always think of me that way. In general, she doesn't really listen to or respect my opinion. I know that's a part of her that really bothers Tim, and at one point during the weekend, he tried to let her know it. (Well, it was more involving Fergus asleep on the World's Most Comfortable Chair during dinner. We dragged out another chair to the porch for my mom to sit on. She said, "why can't we just move Fergus?" And Tim said, "The chain of command in this house generally goes Ellie, Fergus, Olivia, then me." But anyway.)

And I digress. The point is, I did have a really nice time with my parents, but I will probably always find something to complain about regarding my mother.


Blogger tish said...

I love that you got a different chair so Fergus didn't have to move!

There is conflict between my mother and Sean and it's over the same shit.

I am just aggressive enough that I talk back to mom.

2:06 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger.
Get awesome blog templates like this one from BlogSkins.com