Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Things I learned from watching my mom

While I don't want this to be a bitter rant about my mom, I will preface this by saying that the sisters and I refer to mom as "Satan", so let that just provide insight to where this is coming from.

Every day that I do not actually leave the house in gainful employment, I torture myself in comparisons with my mother. I question every action, scold myself with every break. My mother did not work when I was growing up, except for a brief stint as a Tupperware Home Parties consultant. She was a stay-at-home mome, and she can try to claim she helped support the family by babysitting, but collecting money for corralling a group of children in the family room still doesn't quite qualify as working, at least not in my eyes. She was an Alternative Care/Teaching Parent for a year or so, but while that contributed to the finances, it really was a disaster. Bad parent takes in additional children with emotional and social issues... yup... genius.

My mother's ideal would be to be able to read her books and watch her movies all day, uninterrupted. She would like time to play the piano and to sew or quilt or knit when she desires.she would never use her talents for a career, then she'd have to work. Although mom was skilled in areas such as art and sewing and cooking, she doesn't have enough confidence in her abilities to make a career of them. My ex-sister-in-law once pointed out mom's martyrdom - she stayed up all night sewing a new dress to be able to say, "I stayed up all night sewing a new dress for  my daughter" - her point being that mom didn't sew the dress for her daughter, but to make herself look good (because her daughter has a new dress and because she can say look at me, I stayed up all night and I made this). When I went to work and left my new baby with her those first few years, it was torture hearing her say 'play nice' like my career was a big joke and I was nothing more than a glorified file clerk. I was so proud of my skills and talents and the company I was with, but she succeeded in making me feel inadequate and guilty about my mothering skills and priorities, but not enough to convince me to leave my job and be a stay-at-home mom like she was because then she wouldn't have her first grandchild with her every day. It was so hard to hear her talk about my job as if it was silly and unimportant and then to hear her say that my daughter was a spoiled brat. My retort was that this child spends most of her waking hours with grammy, so if she is spoiled it is mostly grammy's fault. That shut her up. It wasn't long before I would start to push this depressed, paranoid, bi-polar person out of my life.

So, as usual, my mom is my biggest motivator. The thought of her keeps my butt off the couch and motivates me to get out of bed. It dictates my hair style and color (reddish because shd didn't like it - too 'ethnic' she said). I hate blazers because she felt they meant you were dressed nicely. I know I can never overcome the environment I grew up in and would never want to forget these things that shaped who I am, but after all these years I can learn forgiveness and tolerance and understand that it is okay not to agree with how things were done before. I can make a change, I can try to do better. So I get back out of bed (although a nap would be really really really nice) and I get my shoes on and get out there and put myself on the table. Network, get myself out there, believe in myself and know that I am doing more than 'playing nice'.

I also can't get myself down. I have grown so strong, able to get through most days without a conscious sad thought about not having a relationship with my mother. I have so many wonderful people in my life - so many experiences and memories to be proud of. What was my lesson for Tuesday, April 12? YOU CAN DO THIS. YOU CAN DO ANYTHING. JUST PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE, IT'S WORTH THE RISK.

There is no love without giving love unconditionally.
There is no friendship without sharing friendship passionately.
Sometimes it's going to hurt, but it won't kill you.
Pretty is pain, and opportunity isn't going to come looking for you under the covers.
Put on your big-girl panties, and get out there!!!

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