More on Mom

So I was telling Irv today, about how I made my mom cry.  His comment was “the asshole is not cutting her grass anymore.”

This brings me to my complaint, and this second entry.  I might actually tell her this to her face, if she starts with me again.  We bend over backwards to help her.  We come over there to install things, fix things, move things, etc. I’ve sent Irv over there, to “move this TV upstairs for me” real quick, after work, and had him come home 3 hours later, pissed, hungry, tired, because a simple “move this here” turned out to be a “Oh, you can’t get it up the stairs?  Oh yeah, that stereo cabinet is blocking the way, well that has to go upstairs as well…and while you’re up there, help me hook this TV up, to the surround sound…oh, that’s in a box downstairs, too would you go get it?”  But…she watches Alden for us when we need it, and we don’t mind helping, family is good for that.

We’ve asked her a million times to stop dumping off shit at our house, toys, used clothes, just…shit.  We’re not some fucking charity family that we need her to go buy garbage bags of clothes at yard sales for Alden’s school wardrobe.  That’s the one thing that would greatly improve relations. I mean, we have a lot of problems getting along anyway, but that one simple thing would make life so much better.  One thing.  Can she do it? No.  The other thing is respecting that I am my own person, and I’m capable of making my own decisions, and raising my own family, without her CONSTANT “suggestions”. This goes WAY above and beyond normal parental advice. Look how she reacted when I told her not to put the teeball thing there.  Look how she responded when Irv got upset, he’s now an “asshole” getting upset.  She comes here, and opens my dishwasher, then says “you’re not loading it from the back to the front, that’s all wrong” and will hound me till I either tell her to stop, or till I rearrange it.  If I tell her to stop, she’d ‘fix’ it to her liking anyway.  IN MY FUCKING HOUSE.  She comes over and rearranges Alden’s furniture, on the sly “I’m just gonna help him put away his laundry…”  We go in there, his bed is against another wall.  She has taken to hiding stuff in his room, actually sneaking bags into his room of second hand garbage toys.  It’s a sickness.

I got off my point. The point I was trying to make was that we ask her for two things.  One, to respect that this is Lisa’s House, and Lisa has Her Own Way of doing things.  And not to cover us in a deluge of crap.  

In return for this, we jump at her beck and call, moving her stuff, Irv landscapes her yard, and cuts her grass every single week, he does all her gardening pretty much. We housesit for them, take them places, put up with Earl The Human Fungus, and…the thanks we get is “he’s an asshole”.

It’s very frustrating.  This thought makes me even sadder:  She’s my only relative on that side, and I’m her only ‘blood’ relative.  She has no siblings, her cousin is in England, her parents are dead, I have no siblings (half brother, but he’s my dad’s not hers).  She has Debbie, Lou, and Dianne, her stepkids, but…really it’s just she and I.  In other words, I’m going to be the one taking care of her, later in life.  Serious changes will have to be made, in order for that to happen.