Done and Done

I am probably going to disappoint a lot of people right now, while some others of you probably saw it coming, but I really don’t think I want to speak to my mom ever again. She is so toxic in my life, its not even funny. Not to mention, she refuses to see me as anything but a disrespectful ingrate, simply because I don’t let her control me and dictate how I live my life. It doesn’t matter what she says, or what she does, I’m supposed to eat it and like it. Some might agree with that, but I’m sorry, I don’t.

I’m just not gonna allow myself to be made to feel like less than what I know myself to be, and it doesn’t matter to me if the person guilty of that attempt is my mother. I’m not disrespectful to her - she’s more disrespectful to me. Sometimes I think she says stuff just to set me off, because she knows I make a conscious effort to not to retort, and she gets off on that shit. I remember her straight going off on me one night, in my own house, in front of my kids, because she was pissed off about somebody hitting her car and knocking off the sideview mirror. What the hell that got to do with me? Nothing, but it didn’t stop her from taking it out on me though. I didn’t curse her out in return - I just put her out LOL. Sorry. I feel like I’m well within my rights to ask ANYONE who is being disrespectful in my home to leave.

I didn’t want anything else to do with her after that incident, but as always, she eventually weaseled her way back into my life, and we’ve had a couple of near misses since then, but generally speaking, we have been okay.

A couple of days ago, she calls me about my son’s test scores. His school had the highest testing scores in the state, and he had the highest scores of the whole sixth grade, scoring “perfect” on two out of the three. Of course I was excited – that’s a wonderful achievement – but my pride was shown to HIM, not all my friends. He don’t give a damn what my friends think about his shit LOL. All he cares about is HIS friends. So she mentioned something to me about wanting to do something for him, maybe a party or having him and his friends over for one of the movie nights they have in her apartment building, and I’m like cool, he’d probably like that. Do you know a day later, she emailing everybody on the planet – MASS emails – her grandson this, her grandson that, full name and address on blast, and then gonna email the principal of his school, trying to get information.

What are you doing? LOL

So I respond to her on one of the emails and I say, you know, Ma, I know you are proud and you want the world to know how great he is, but I’m not crazy about the approach. I’m feeling a little violated in the parental space. She writes back this morning flipping out. The conversation is no longer about her not following a proper chain of command where the school is concerned, or about my feeling stepped on. Now its about me not being “on my job” and how much she does for him and his sister. This is what its ALWAYS about.

I’m not on my job. Im sorry, Mother, are YOU the one riding him every day to make sure he is on top of his school work, helping him through the algebraic equations on his homework every day? Are you the one going to the PTA meetings and Exhibition Nights at his school? Are you chauffeuring him back and forth to this event or that event? No? Oh my fault, then you must be covering some of the bills back at the ranch, for us to be keeping the lights on and the roof paid for? No? Well damn, Mother, if I’m not on my job, SOMEBODY sure is, but that somebody doesn’t appear to be you. It’s quite possible that you don’t know WHAT THE FUCK YOURE TALKIN ABOUT!

I told her none of this is about my son deserving recognition. This is about HER wanting recognition, as if she had anything to do with it. This is about posturing for her colleagues, as much now as it was back when I was in school. Yeah I was the golden child too. I was the straight A student, the writer, the contest winner, the tournament champion, the homecoming queen and first baccalaureate in the family through years of emails and phone conversations that I’d overhear and roll my eyes about. That shit wasn’t about me either. It was about her, wanting to floss for people who wasn’t shit, and who I probably couldn’t stand. All she’s ever cared about is what them fake ass friends of hers thought and she kept a fake ass façade up for all them years because of it. We were never the fucken Cleavers, but she’d have a bitch thinking she came home from work every day and spent all evening in pearls and a fucken apron. The constituents are much fewer now, between relocations and fallouts, but she’s still frontin for the ones that are left and I don’t appreciate her trying to use my baby for that purpose.

So long story a little shorter, Im not fuckin wit her no more. Im done. All I initially wanted was for her to be a little more considerate of the pecking order when it comes to certain things, and she took that and turned it into some other shit. She is so fucken negative, everything gotta be a beef. Its like she sits in the wings, waiting to be able to say some left field shit so I can kirk the fuck out. I really feel like that’s what she wants. She takes a button and just presses and presses and presses, but too bad, I’m not gonna give her that. I’m also not gonna let her do to me what her mother did to her. She’ll never take anything from me and she’ll never infuse negativity and insecurity where I’ve been cultivating the opposite. I’m just not gonna allow it. So peace out, Ma Dukes. And if anybody’s looking for a mother’s day gift, I have an extra one you can have for the low-low…..