Obligatory Mother's Day post...

I haven't read many blogs today, nor have I really thought much about what Mother's Day means to many other people. I haven't watched the plethora of movies about moms that have been on all weekend and each commercial for the 'holiday' makes me change the channel. For the most part, I've been sitting and stewing, avoiding work and wishing I could avoid visiting my mom.

Seriously, shouldn't I be allowed to do only what makes me happy today?? It's my day too.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. My day was pretty typical, as Sundays go. Woke up to watch the F1 race, watched a movie, took a shower, went to my mom's, went shopping, picked up dinner and watched TV. At some point, my son came to my room to offer me a cup of coffee. At another point, my daughter brought me a gift (shower gel and a card) and hung out in bed with me for a bit. For the most part, though, they ignored me. Or fought. Yeah, there was a lot of that. Typical.

I did have to visit Mom though and that, in and of itself, was an aneurysm waiting to happen. We bought her the saucepan she asked for and potted up some pretty pink impatiens in blue pottery dishes and headed out to CVS to get her a card. I am very picky about my cards, reading each one and trying to pick something that conveys just how I feel about my mom on Mother's Day. All the cards are sweet and mushy, filled with "You're my inspiration" and wind-beneath-my-wings saccharine sentiments. I walked up and down the aisle for 45 minutes, past the "Humorous for Her" and "From the Both of Us" cards, wondering where the "Dysfunctional Family" and section was.

No luck. I must have read every card on the rack when I finally found one that was sufficiently non-commital.

Happy Mother's Day to
the person who
helped me become
what I am today.

Thank you.

Card writers really need to work on writing more ambivalent, neutral cards for those of us that only buy them when we are forced. Not that I wouldn't love to have had the kind of Mom that inspires mushy sentiments. I would give anything to be able to make my mom cry with joy and really mean it ... but I'm afraid I would have to lie to do that and I'm not lying anymore.

I love my mom but it's only because I have to. I visit her only when I have to. I really feel an odd sort of disconnect around her that I used to only feel around my dad. A learned disconnect of protection, of shutting down and pulling in, of closing off the joyful parts so they do not get poisoned or stolen.

That's why I'm not telling her about house hunting. Its why I don't tell her about concerts my kids are in (though they are in two this week and they told her ... well, she asked and they can't lie either!). Its why I only spend the required amount of time at her house. Its why I give her exactly what she asks me for and nothing more. I can't invest any more emotional energy in that toxic relationship. I'll save my joyful parts for those that truly love and accept me.

Is that wrong? *sigh* Probably as wrong as the feeling of relief I got when my dad died.

Lots of family stuff coming up this week. Between Mother's Day and my birthday and a drive-by visit from my sister, I may be blogging a lot this week. Or not. I'll be pretty busy too. Now I'm off to go look at houses. Wish me luck. *crosses fingers*