The trip to dutiful
Mar. 13th, 2014 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grammarwomanToday is the first day in two weeks that I haven't had any meetings at work. I feel like I can finally breathe after jumping from subject to subject. The biggest time obligation was pair programming to learn with how the web development team does test driven design and MVC. I started to pick it up at the end, but for the next few days I'm back to the ugly code base of our inter-company website, so hopefully some of the lessons stick. I have brief flashes of feeling like a Real Programmer sticking out from my baseline Imposter Syndrome. (Self, people have paid you to program for over 20 years now. You're a Real Programmer!)
My husband has also been swamped at work, so for the interim he's working full-time (yay money!). This means both of us get home reeling from the nonstop pace and unwilling to do more than the bare minimum, so the house is even more of a wreck than usual. I was planning on a massive cleaning binge last weekend, then my mom called and asked me to come visit. My dad had surgery scheduled for Friday to remove a cyst on his kidney, and he was working himself up into a nervous wreck. Mom thought it would mean a lot to him for me to be there.
So I ditched the husband and kid, drove up Friday night, and let myself in to their house to be greeted by their anxious dog. My dad's surgery started late (the patient ahead of him had sleep apnea that hadn't been disclosed to the anesthesiologist and couldn't be woken up), so my mom didn't get home until almost midnight.
The visit was odd but good; usually it's my whole family unit together for a holiday or celebration, so being there sans husband and child, with only my mom and not the pair of parents, felt restfully low-key. Saturday we weren't in a rush to get to the hospital, so we lazed around and talked, and miracle of miracles, it was only awkward at a few points.
For as long as I can remember, my relationship with my mom has been difficult. For example, my first reaction to her voice mail asking me to call her last week was "What did I do wrong this time? Did I forget something important?" I've never doubted that she loved me, and I know that I can count on her help if I need it, but...My whole life I've felt like I never quite lived up to what she wanted and expected from me, from my appearance to my marriage to my housekeeping skills, because I consistently choose to do things differently than she would, with the implicit judgment that since her way is always right, I must be always wrong. I was so glad to escape to a boarding school for high school, because our interactions were getting pretty ugly by the time I was a stubborn teenager: I wouldn't lose weight or wear makeup or dress nicer, or otherwise conform to her idea of what I should be and how I should act. Sure, that's pretty typical for a mother-daughter relationship, but when it comes to passive-aggressive sniping and confidence sabotaging, my mom could win a gold medal.
It helped a lot when I was no longer financially dependent on her and my dad; I was literally paying for my own choices and not subject to the "as long as you're under our roof" clashes. I think it also eased some of her fears when I got married and had a kid, because I was somewhat following the traditional steps she'd taken. In a bitter silver-lining kind of way, my brother's divorce and treatment for alcoholism opened her eyes to how stable my life is, and that maybe my choices were actually OK.
So for me to get along with my mom for a whole weekend without the buffer of other people was rather unexpected. There were a few moments I just had to let go, like when she complained about Ellen DeGeneres' outfits at the Oscars - "She's a woman, not a man! She should be wearing dresses!" or Lupita Nyong'o's dress - "She's got a chest like a boy, her dress shouldn't have been so low-cut!" (This from the woman who rolled her eyes at how class-conscious of a snob her husband is. She's not the most introspective of people.) I really had to grit my teeth when she said, "You know that your son will always be a only child, even if you do have another baby."
While we were visiting my dad at the hospital, my brother came by with his teenaged daughter. We were chatting for a few minutes when my niece asked unexpectedly "Is it OK if I use the bed?" and proceeded to faint face-first onto it. After a stunned couple of moments of us looking at each other and wondering what was going on, she mumbled that all the needles (my dad was hooked up to an IV) were bothering her. My brother ushered her out to a nearby waiting room. When we went to check on her a few minutes later, a friendly nurse had given her some crackers to munch on and some water to sip as she recovered. It turned out that she had needle phobia, something she'd been aware of for a while. I commiserated with her on it, as my husband does too, and warned her that people have had fatal reactions and that she should be careful. Later at home, on the phone with my brother, my mom actually remarked to him "I always thought she was a drama queen, but I guess this time she really wasn't faking it." *eye-roll*
My dad has been home since Sunday night and seems to be recovering nicely from the surgery as we wait for news from the biopsy. He's not supposed to lift heavy things or exert himself too much for the next several weeks, so my mom will have to pick up the slack. This will mean a ton of her complaining even as she has more time and help than I ever do, as my brother will visit frequently to do handy work around the house and her twice-weekly cleaning lady will take care of the housekeeping.
I'm grateful that my dad's doing better, and that I had a nice visit with my mom, and that both of them thanked me for coming. I just wish I didn't have to be so surprised at having a good time.
My husband has also been swamped at work, so for the interim he's working full-time (yay money!). This means both of us get home reeling from the nonstop pace and unwilling to do more than the bare minimum, so the house is even more of a wreck than usual. I was planning on a massive cleaning binge last weekend, then my mom called and asked me to come visit. My dad had surgery scheduled for Friday to remove a cyst on his kidney, and he was working himself up into a nervous wreck. Mom thought it would mean a lot to him for me to be there.
So I ditched the husband and kid, drove up Friday night, and let myself in to their house to be greeted by their anxious dog. My dad's surgery started late (the patient ahead of him had sleep apnea that hadn't been disclosed to the anesthesiologist and couldn't be woken up), so my mom didn't get home until almost midnight.
The visit was odd but good; usually it's my whole family unit together for a holiday or celebration, so being there sans husband and child, with only my mom and not the pair of parents, felt restfully low-key. Saturday we weren't in a rush to get to the hospital, so we lazed around and talked, and miracle of miracles, it was only awkward at a few points.
For as long as I can remember, my relationship with my mom has been difficult. For example, my first reaction to her voice mail asking me to call her last week was "What did I do wrong this time? Did I forget something important?" I've never doubted that she loved me, and I know that I can count on her help if I need it, but...My whole life I've felt like I never quite lived up to what she wanted and expected from me, from my appearance to my marriage to my housekeeping skills, because I consistently choose to do things differently than she would, with the implicit judgment that since her way is always right, I must be always wrong. I was so glad to escape to a boarding school for high school, because our interactions were getting pretty ugly by the time I was a stubborn teenager: I wouldn't lose weight or wear makeup or dress nicer, or otherwise conform to her idea of what I should be and how I should act. Sure, that's pretty typical for a mother-daughter relationship, but when it comes to passive-aggressive sniping and confidence sabotaging, my mom could win a gold medal.
It helped a lot when I was no longer financially dependent on her and my dad; I was literally paying for my own choices and not subject to the "as long as you're under our roof" clashes. I think it also eased some of her fears when I got married and had a kid, because I was somewhat following the traditional steps she'd taken. In a bitter silver-lining kind of way, my brother's divorce and treatment for alcoholism opened her eyes to how stable my life is, and that maybe my choices were actually OK.
So for me to get along with my mom for a whole weekend without the buffer of other people was rather unexpected. There were a few moments I just had to let go, like when she complained about Ellen DeGeneres' outfits at the Oscars - "She's a woman, not a man! She should be wearing dresses!" or Lupita Nyong'o's dress - "She's got a chest like a boy, her dress shouldn't have been so low-cut!" (This from the woman who rolled her eyes at how class-conscious of a snob her husband is. She's not the most introspective of people.) I really had to grit my teeth when she said, "You know that your son will always be a only child, even if you do have another baby."
While we were visiting my dad at the hospital, my brother came by with his teenaged daughter. We were chatting for a few minutes when my niece asked unexpectedly "Is it OK if I use the bed?" and proceeded to faint face-first onto it. After a stunned couple of moments of us looking at each other and wondering what was going on, she mumbled that all the needles (my dad was hooked up to an IV) were bothering her. My brother ushered her out to a nearby waiting room. When we went to check on her a few minutes later, a friendly nurse had given her some crackers to munch on and some water to sip as she recovered. It turned out that she had needle phobia, something she'd been aware of for a while. I commiserated with her on it, as my husband does too, and warned her that people have had fatal reactions and that she should be careful. Later at home, on the phone with my brother, my mom actually remarked to him "I always thought she was a drama queen, but I guess this time she really wasn't faking it." *eye-roll*
My dad has been home since Sunday night and seems to be recovering nicely from the surgery as we wait for news from the biopsy. He's not supposed to lift heavy things or exert himself too much for the next several weeks, so my mom will have to pick up the slack. This will mean a ton of her complaining even as she has more time and help than I ever do, as my brother will visit frequently to do handy work around the house and her twice-weekly cleaning lady will take care of the housekeeping.
I'm grateful that my dad's doing better, and that I had a nice visit with my mom, and that both of them thanked me for coming. I just wish I didn't have to be so surprised at having a good time.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-03-14 01:55 am (UTC)