Gram's is on her way....yay...

I don't hate my mother, honest. I love her, but at a distance. She has a wonderful personality and has even been known to over throw me and steal my friends...when I was in elementary school even. She's always been the cool mom, in other's minds. In my mind, she's bossy and loud and is not used to not getting her way at all.

She was a single mother of two girls. (Me and my ever-so-wonderful sister, that wasn't sarcasm, I mean it...I friggin ADORE my baby sister.) So, yes, she had to work. Mainly demeaning jobs that held no future, or no pay for that matter. Long hours and no money usually equals unhappy kids. But really, I was a happy child. I easily made friends where ever we moved, I delighted in the little things so money wasn't something that was ever on my mind. I wasn't the kid embarrassed by my mother and still hugged her goodbye in front of my school, the movies, the skating rink, etc. Even during my treacherous teenage years, I was delighted that my friends knew my mom and were all welcome in our house...she made it like a big happy family. And even, after the initial shock, at learning she would be a grandparent in her mid-thirties wore off, she was cool. And now she is Grams. Super Grams.
She'll be here tomorrow...and I pray she doesn't want to stay long. See we've had a few bumps in our road. Some very high and round speed bumps in our relationship. I don't know when it started, how or why it continues...I think it has something to do with the following reasons: 1) She is so damned stubborn and 2) I am just like her... Whatever the reasons...I wish it weren't this tumultuous. My sister and my mother are best friends and yes, I do get jealous. I want that.
My sister...we'll call her 'Devil Dog' (she's a United States Marine) and my mother (Grams) can talk about anything. Even my sister's wildly inappropriate jokes about vaginas and such, my mother finds divine. Oh, I do too, don't get me wrong. Wait a darn minute, I'm starting to sound like I have a stick in my ass...well, I don't, I swear...contrary to what my dear husband says, there is no stick up there, I've checked.

I really think, I've got a wall up. It's hard for me to make lasting, meaningful relationships.

Every relationship I have is because the people I have them with are just as lost or weird as I am and it works. When I try to befriend 'normal' people, I really think I scare them. I turn into the nervous 'girlfriend' wondering where is our relationship headed. And people do not want to be confronted with that question. Yes, I'm married, he's a great guy, most of the time. He's hot, that was my initial reaction to him, that's why I flirted so brazenly with him and sometimes I think it's why I'm still with him. (Just kidding, honey!) And, yes, I have friends from all over, almost every place I've ever lived and thanks to Facebook, I talk to them now on an hourly basis. But creating new relationships has got to be one of the biggest challenges in my life. Maintaining them as well.
My mother and I can fight, now. We can yell and say horrible things to one another, none of which ever gets taken back or apologized for. We've thrown shit, including fists, threatened, lied, cried and stormed out. We are also a very affectionate kind of crazy, we are all big huggers and cryers. My mother knows me better than anyone in the world. She knows the, sometimes, insane thoughts that run through my head. She was super supportive when I was 13 and decided I was psychic, I had just discovered common sense, and tried to help me nurture it. But still, there is a wall there.
As an adult and a parent and a woman nearing her thirties, I find things all the time that I remember my mother complaining about or just mentioning. I better understand her now, well, some times. Especially when it comes to working long hours with little pay at crap jobs that mean the world to the well-being of your children. My mother did teach me that work is exactly what it sounds like. And even though this job may not lead me anywhere with a future, it's worth doing while I'm doing it so do my best. And some morals, I am still sifting through.
I really think that one of the reasons we don't get along is because she hates my husband...literally, hates him, and his family. She doesn't think she should try to be civil because, in all honesty, they don't. But she should have learned from her mother, like I did, to kill them with kindness.
I think, also, that we haven't had the same type of journeys in our lives so we've walked away with different lessons ringing in our ears...and for whatever reason, they all clash. We don't argue over politics, we both feel the same way about them...we don't fight over money, neither of us has any. We fight over the past. I'm starting to feel a little less passionate about my arguments towards my mother than I did just two years ago. I, being the product of a broken home, felt like a slave, a nanny, a housekeeper, an alarm clock...a teacher. I didn't understand why I had to do all of this stuff and couldn't be a carefree teenaged girl like the rest of my friends. I understand now, mom. And in all honesty, I am grateful. Because of the work ethic you instilled in me, I never have and never will have to lean on anyone else.
I'm bending my walls, let's see how far they'll go before they come crashing down. Because of you, I know, that I must work toward the things that I want...and I want us to be what you want us to be, so let's work toward a brighter and better relationship. I love you mom, can't wait to see you, you are only staying a week, right?

Fun times on very warm days...

Today was one of the best days in history, for me, because I went swimming with my family. Big deal! I know, right. But the fun that ensues with water on all sides of a family that rarely enjoys eachother any longer is unending. Bursting in flames upon the 111 degree wind that blows in your face isn't pleasant at all but with family it seems a little cooler in the air and that made everything more pleasant than I, or anyone else, was prepared for. Don't ever forget, family is one of the most important things you, or I, will ever know. So let your guard down...and enjoy eachother...don't let it be a lesson in doing it the hard way by not listening to me!

nevermind...

Nevermind that I have a child almost half my age...another lesson in doing it the hard way...but said child is also of the autistic category. We have arguments over the strength of goblins and just what color of yellow corn really is. I know he is just trying to make me forget that I so brutally sentenced him to eat the corn...but I cannot help to keep up with the argument that it really is a sort of sunshine yellow, I mean, hello, it grows in the sunshine!
Anyway, this child recalls events that happened around the time he was a year old...and reminds me because frankly, I have forgotten. He seems to remember the torment that I put upon him whilst weening him from that damned bottle and apparently I am paying for it now.
Said child is around the delicate age of 9, which I have heard termed 'pre-pubescent' but I personally feel this kid is in puberty. I recognize it so well, the eye rolling and heavy sighing when any parent, his or not, says anything within proximity of his hearing. His voice is still high and sweet and his eyes are still so innocent. He's learning the social ladder at school and because of his super power (autism) he could really care less. He is smart beyond his years but doesn't know what an honest days labor can produce. We've named him 'the kid who has no try' because he still seems to think he can use his mind powers to take out the trash. I really miss my sweet, well-behaved, ready to please little ray of sunshine and am really not ready for the dull and dreary but sometimes screamingly dramatic age he is inevitably headed toward. Anyone out there care to medicate him...or me?