ah, mother
Dec. 7th, 2005 09:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fleaThe phone rang at 7:10 am. Instant thought - the nanny can't be sick AGAIN! I pick it up; it is my mother.
Mother: "Were you out late last night?"
flea: "No..."
M: "Oh, I thought you'd call me." (She left a message saying "call sometime" - it conveyed no sense of urgency.)
f: "What's up?"
M: "Well, I'm knitting this sweater and you said ten inches to the armpit and it's already nine inches and it looks really long, so I'm thinking of undoing it and just not knitting any more sweaters for Eve, since you said I always make them too small."
f: "You called and I measured a sweater that she wears now, so that should give you a sense of what size you need."
M: "I don't know where the measurements are."
f: "Well, I'm on my way out the door to work right now, but if you call again later I can measure the sweater again."
M: "I'm knitting a size three... but you said I always make them too small. I'm feeling criticized."
f: "I'm sorry you're in a funk about this. I didn't intend that as a criticism. I intended it as a practical helpful suggestion on sizing sweaters." (Usaid: my kid grows like a weed. You can't rely on the pattern saying size 3 to assume it will be big enough. My kid wears a size three now. THIS IS WHY I MEASURED A SWEATER SHE CURRENTLY WEARS. Also, you had three kids and know that they grow. This is not rocket science.)
M: general mumbles about hopelessness, bad feelings, unraveling sweater.
f: "I'm really on my way out the door to work. I think you're making a big deal out of nothing. Why don't you call tonight and I can re-measure the sweater, and we can talk." (Unsaid: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.)
So I didn't get to drink my tea or take my meds this morning, 'cause I had to run to catch the bus.
One of the things I like about myself is that I am almosty always self-aware enough that when I am having an unreasonable snit, I can recognize that fact and refrain from calling people up and bitching or acting martyred to them about it. Gah-de-gah-gah.
Mother: "Were you out late last night?"
flea: "No..."
M: "Oh, I thought you'd call me." (She left a message saying "call sometime" - it conveyed no sense of urgency.)
f: "What's up?"
M: "Well, I'm knitting this sweater and you said ten inches to the armpit and it's already nine inches and it looks really long, so I'm thinking of undoing it and just not knitting any more sweaters for Eve, since you said I always make them too small."
f: "You called and I measured a sweater that she wears now, so that should give you a sense of what size you need."
M: "I don't know where the measurements are."
f: "Well, I'm on my way out the door to work right now, but if you call again later I can measure the sweater again."
M: "I'm knitting a size three... but you said I always make them too small. I'm feeling criticized."
f: "I'm sorry you're in a funk about this. I didn't intend that as a criticism. I intended it as a practical helpful suggestion on sizing sweaters." (Usaid: my kid grows like a weed. You can't rely on the pattern saying size 3 to assume it will be big enough. My kid wears a size three now. THIS IS WHY I MEASURED A SWEATER SHE CURRENTLY WEARS. Also, you had three kids and know that they grow. This is not rocket science.)
M: general mumbles about hopelessness, bad feelings, unraveling sweater.
f: "I'm really on my way out the door to work. I think you're making a big deal out of nothing. Why don't you call tonight and I can re-measure the sweater, and we can talk." (Unsaid: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.)
So I didn't get to drink my tea or take my meds this morning, 'cause I had to run to catch the bus.
One of the things I like about myself is that I am almosty always self-aware enough that when I am having an unreasonable snit, I can recognize that fact and refrain from calling people up and bitching or acting martyred to them about it. Gah-de-gah-gah.
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no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 04:48 pm (UTC)I love my mom. Talk to her almost every day. But she just... she comes UP with some things. Drives me crazy. The other night she was whining about my sister's trip timing. I was like, well, maybe it was because of X or Y, and the mom just reared up like, "Nevermind. I don't know anything. I shouldn't ever express my concern about anything. I'm getting tired and I think I'm going to go to bed now." It was 5:15 p.m.
But yeah. She just LAUNCHES like this.
It's a slightly different weird freak tactic than she used a decade ago and it's very different than the raving lunacy she practiced when I was still living at home.
[snort.] "I'm feeling criticized."
Yeah, well, I'm not responsible for your ownership of your feelings, hon.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 06:24 pm (UTC)