girlfiend

Let’s recap:
1. pudge
2. beach cart thrown out by “workmen”
3. freshly laundered sheets, reminiscent of Thanksgiving floors
4. B’s clothes mysteriously disappeared

The next several hours were fairly uneventful. The beach was lovely, we got the kids showered and dressed, my mother made dinner, her bitey fucking dog snapped at T twice, and I put the kids to bed after she hopped them up on ice cream at 8.30. It was time to talk. Now the talk should have been something she was waiting for. When we spoke about the family going to see her, I asked if she planned to sit down and talk about the situation/disagreement/bullshit with B. She assured me that she had every intention of working it out with him. So when we stood in the kitchen, the three of us alone without children, and she started to ask us about our current television viewing habits, we just stared, answered lamely and waited for her to stop so we could move on.

After she finished recapping several seasons of Breaking Bad, she said that the new Sunday shows were starting and she was off to watch them. B stopped her and asked if she was ready to sit down to talk through some of the problems. She said, “Can it wait?” No. We sat around the kitchen table and B started the conversation. My mother seemed confident that there was nothing to work out. So confident she asked, “What do we have to talk about?” B reminded her that he called her two months ago to try to work things out and thought they’d come to some sort of agreement, but since she hadn’t spoken to him in two months it was clear that nothing had been resolved. She interrupted B and restarted the conversation.

According to my mother, the root of the problem is that she and B are like two ships passing in the night. They view the world through different prisms because of how their experiences differ. She is 67. He is not. They have different values. She doesn’t understand his values. He doesn’t understand hers. That doesn’t make them right or wrong, just different. This little monologue, in which she repeated the bit about prisms, and lenses, and values went on for several minutes. We didn’t interrupt, we just let her finish. Then told her that she wasn’t actually saying anything or addressing the issue. She said she didn’t know what the issue was.

(A few things I may not have written about. These are not the issues, but these are a few of the things she is furious about: 1. She claims that the cigarette smoke B smelled was not cigarette smoke, she just lit a book of matches to cover up a smell. This explanation came two weeks after the initial incident in which she denied smelling any smoke at all. 2. She wanted to take F to the museum by bus for a day trip. We said no. 3.She wanted her sister here the night we came home from the hospital. We said no. )

We reminded her of the issues and she continued to talk in circles about prisms and values for a while before she let loose. It became clear that she was angry because we’d said no to her. And when I say angry, I mean a crazy, ranting lunatic. She was banging on the table, shouting, calling us fucking crazy, telling B to shut the fuck up, and screaming, “I am your mother. Your mother. You do not say no to me because I am your mother,” spittle flying from her mouth. We tried to get away from the screaming and back to the conversation.

I was stunned. I knew she’d be angry but I wasn’t expecting her to verbally attack me. I wasn’t ready for the screaming and banging on the table. With some help from Boyfiend, here are some other highlights of the conversation:

Mother: Who cares if I took F home in a taxi without a car seat? It was raining. So what if I didn’t feed him or change his diaper? He’s fine. He just remembers that he had a good time?

Me:We are adults. We have children. We are allowed to say no to you. If we don’t want your sister here our first night home from the hospital we can say no.
Mother:NO, I am your mother. That is disrespectful.

Me: You are my mother. If something upsets me, if I don’t like something you do, you need to acknowledge it, apologize, something, because you are my mother.
Mother: I don’t have to acknowledge anything. I am your MOTHER.

Mother: You don’t care about my feelings. You only care about yourself.
Me: But mom, I called you. I apologized. I said I was sorry. You never called me back.
Mother: You don’t care about my feelings.

Mother: Our values are different.
Boyfiend: But you lied to me. You lied. You told me was no smoke. You were the adult in charge. I come home, there is smoke in the laundry room. I’m worried about that and you tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. Two weeks later you said you lit a book of matches. You lied and never acknowledged your wrongdoing.
Mother: I didn’t lie. I explained.
Boyfiend: An explanation doesn’t mean that it’s not a lie. You explained why you lied.
Mother: I don’t have to apologize for anything. Why does everything have to be so black and white with you?

Mother: You don’t think I can do things by myself? I’m capable. I’m resourceful. I did all this by myself. I worked hard for everything I have.
Me: [silently, because I wanted to make things better, not worse] By yourself? You are still collecting alimony. My father gives you money for every gift you buy for me or the children on top of the alimony. Resourceful? You sell shit online. Capable? You switched schools every two years because you couldn’t maintain relationships to stay in the same place for any longer.

Me: Mom, I was home from the hospital with a new baby. I wanted help, not a fight.
Mother:It was my special weekend and Boyfiend ruined it for me.
Boyfiend: It wasn’t your special weekend. It was our baby. We wanted to be alone with the family for a quiet weekend. Just us and the kids. For things to return to normal as best as possible.  And honestly, after the mystery smoke in the laundry room the day before that you claimed you didn’t know anything about. That you said you couldn’t even notice.  Under the circumstances, I just wanted you to go.
Mother: Oh, you’re still hung up on that! It was my new grandchild and you ruined it for me.

Boyfiend: You’re ruining this for yourself. We’ve both reached out to you to try to fix this but you don’t respond.

Mother: I’ve racked my brain and I can’t think of a single thing that would please you. I just don’t know what to do.

Boyfiend: Here is what we need you to do. Recognize that you have done things that are not in the best interest of the children. Like riding in a cab with a baby. Acknowledge that we are their parents and respect what we think is in the best interest of the children. We can say no to you.

Mother: That’s bullshit. You’re both fucking crazy do you know that? You both fucking idiots! I don’t have to do anything (voice now rising to a fevered pitch) I am your mother! Do you hear me (both hands with palms rise above her head and come crashing down on the table.) Again she screams, I am your mother, wild rage in her eyes, spit flying with her words and her hands rise and slam down again on the table, I am your mother. You don’t say no to me! And she repeats this again and again, punctuating each sentence of her with a slam of the hands. I stare at her until Boyfiend turns to me and says, “You don’t need to listen to this any longer.”

Mother screams, “Let her decide when she’s done listening.”

Boyfiend apologizes and says to me, “Girlfiend, you can listen to this for as long as you want. I was merely suggesting that there are other options. Either way, I think we’re nearing the end here and we decide how things are going to work from now on. If you want to have a meaningful relationship with the boys you need to have a relationship with us. You need to do things differently.

Mother: I don’t want anything to do with either one of you.

The conversation, obviously, went badly. When she wasn’t bullshitting about how there is no problem, we’re just different, she was ranting and berating me. She said we were control freaks and wouldn’t be able to control everything forever. I told her it’s not about control, it’s about her respecting our wishes and not doing things with our children we don’t want her to do. I tried to get her to meet us halfway. We kept trying to get her back to the point, which was that she needs to respect us by apologizing or acknowledging her mistakes. She refused because she is my mother and we have to think about her feelings. I can’t say no because she is my mother. We left it with her saying that she wasn’t willing to bend, to change, or to apologize. She has no interest in repairing our relationship, she just wants to see the kids, not us.

Boyfiend wanted to pack up and leave right away. I decided to wait until morning. The night wasn’t easy. B started loading the car. I got into bed. The baby woke up once to eat and not long after I fell back to sleep T fell out of bed and got trapped underneath it trying to get his sippy cup. It took over an hour to get him back to sleep and I fell asleep in the twin bed with him.

When the boys got up I made the beds and packed our bags. We had tentative plans to see a family friend who was at her parent’s house on the bay with her children. The Fiendling was looking forward to seeing them and playing at their house. My mother told B the plan was off. I called to follow up, and sure enough, my mother just made that decision to punish us. My mother wanted to speak to me alone. I told her no, and we got into the car and left. We stopped for breakfast then went to our friend’s house for the morning before we drove back to the city. The Fiendling was sad about leaving and told us so, quietly. He wasn’t hysterical or tantrumming, just sad. He cried a little, softly, which was only evident from his tear-stained face. I felt terrible, but there was nothing else to do but leave.

So that’s that. She’s already told her sister that we’ve forbidden her from seeing the children, but that’s just untrue. She lies, and that lie was created both to make us look bad and to excuse her from trying to get along with us. She says we are hurting the children but she is just hurting herself.