Sunday, May 3, 2015

Mother's Day Guilt.

I am a horrible daughter.
These last few days I have been trying to figure out how to get out of driving down to see my mother on Mother's Day weekend.
The problem is that I already mentioned to her that I was coming and it is a scientific fact that elderly people need things to look forward to.
I know this 'looking forward to things' thing is true because my mother told me it is and because I can't just tell her I don't want to come visit after all.
She raised me and kept me from extinction so as old as I have become I should consider myself fortunate to still have a living mother!
And I do...
But I just saw her during Spring Break when my son and I drove down for the weekend.
My son only agreed to go visiting during his Spring Break because my mother's neighborhood had free drinks and a wet t-shirt contest.
Just kidding.
We drank fresh orange juice from the trees and swam in the lake with our clothes on.
Really though, he's a good son who hardly gets to see his only living grandparent and fresh orange juice is a powerful motivator to young people.
ANYWAY, when we saw her I couldn't help thinking to myself that she is really old now and I should visit more often.
So I thought I should bugger down there for Mother's Day and enjoy my mother while I can.
I also thought to myself that it's important to visit because I haven't seen her on Mother's Day since I became a mother myself 3 decades ago.
And I haven't.
Except for last year on Mother's Day.
AND the year before that.
How could I forget that?
1) I'm old now.
2) They were only considered vacation visits in my mind because my family started vacationing very close to where she lives.
3) Forget what?
So now it's gonna be 3 years in a row of Mother's Day visitation.
What a doofus I am.
So now my intent to make this big sacrifice of missing my own Mother's Day, with my 4 fabulous babies and seeing my mother as if I hadn't done that in years, is now a bust.
No sacrifice now at all, except for the gray cells that killed themselves when they found out that they were confined in a doofus head.
I'm sure there is a mass exodus of gray matter with every decision I make.
But it's too late now to change my plans.
I even got 2 new tires and an oil change so it would be a stress free weekend.
At least mechanically, because stress is like a food group to my mother.
She eats up the stress and drama of helping people live their lives according to her rules like alligators eat small dogs.
If there were calories in shaming and reproach, then my mother would be obese.
But she is actually tiny and cute mother.
She normally reserves this negative behavior for her family only.
So I have learned the cues that make her judgment avertible and try to be the best mother I can to my own children by avoiding her chosen 'mothering techniques'.
So now you know why I was trying to avoid a Mother's Day visit, but am going anyway.
I must make the trip because of the overwhelming guilt of not going to visit enough if she dies by next Mother's Day and because of the need for wet clothes and fresh orange juice.
Just kidding.
I'm bringing a bathing suit.

Lake Swimming

Fresh Orange Juice.

Thanks for being here.


  1. Let us take my thoughts in order and use numbering:

    1.) You are definitely NOT a horrible daughter.
    2.) Sorry I missed 'clothes swimming.'
    3.) Your brain is not shrinking or leaking out your ears. The reason you don't remember you have been there before is because the heat & horror that goes on within her house makes your brain block those memories so you can get on with your life without PTSD.
    4.) The analogies about stress & alligators & shaming and calories are so good - I can't even think of something clever to say about them. Pure analogous genius.
    5.) I hope you get lots of orange juice.

    Love you, love your blog and GOOD LUCK!

  2. Thanks so much!!!!
    I LOVE my readers!!!

  3. you are not a horrible wife or mother or cook either. in fact you are the antithesis of horrible.
    COOL ADS! You are rocking the blogging world.
    I am so proud to share the same internet air with you.