Saturday, October 27, 2007

The Worst Excuse Ever.

Yesterday, my mother came out to my house (about an hour's drive for her) to take me to the doctor to get my nose sucked out and septum splints removed after my sinus surgery. Before we went to the doctor, we dropped Bubba off at daycare. He was not in the mood to go, and as I led him into school he looked woefully back at NaNa. When I returned, I mentioned to Mom that if she wanted to, she could pick Bubba up from daycare after my doctor's appointment and keep him for the night, and J. would pick him up the next day. I was thinking, oh, I don't know, that maybe it would be really nice to have a little break since I was still feeling Miserable with a capitol M and J. was dealing with either the fallout from last week's Cold From Hell or possibly a complication like bronchitis or something of that ilk. She seemed at least open to the idea and said "Let me think about it for a little bit." Seemed reasonable.

Well, after my doctor's appointment I asked if she had decided what she wanted to do and she replies, "I better not take him. I need to go shopping tomorrow for a new frying pan."

I was so drugged up on pain meds when this conversation occurred and the frying pan excuse was so shockingly bad that I’m still not sure if I made any kind of remark immediately after she said this, but after some uncomfortable silence I do remember saying “Okay. I don’t ever want you to feel pressured into watching my kid.” Then more uncomfortable silence, punctuated by a few small-talky comments we both made to just sort of ease the tension. I was pretty desperate for her to go home, however, so I sort of urged her to go home immediately by saying “I know you’ll want to be home for lunch with Dad.” Almost like the last turn of the knife, even though I know it was unintentional, she says to me as she’s walking out the door, “Well, I hope you feel better soon…let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” As long as it doesn’t involve watching my son, I guess.

Here is where I must give you some essential background.
*My Mom does help me, Bubba and J. out a lot. Really. She's generally a very good Mom and NaNa.
*She does watch Bubba one day every week and has since he was born. This was at her request because she wanted to make sure Bubba "knew her" and that she had a good relationship with him.
*Mom is 68 years old. She's in better physical shape than I am; still, I understand that caring for a young child is tiring.
*Mom has never worked outside of the home, so since she stopped babysitting for my nieces about 10 years ago, she's been "retired." Which means, theoretically at least, that urgent shopping trips for critical items like frying pans could be carried out any day of the week.
*Before Bubba was born, there were many comments from Mom about how much fun it would be to have Bubba "come and visit NaNa and PaPa for a week!" She and Dad have taken Bubba for many one- or two-night stays, and shared a six-day babysitting stint with my sister when we went to Amsterdam. There have not, however, been any spontaneous requests to have Bubba for a week, and only one or two to have him for a night or weekend.
*Finally, I feel a disclaimer is necessary: I know I am lucky to have a mother who loves me, my husband and our child, and that she is willing to take him at all, ever, and I am eternally grateful for those things. I am still, however, a little pissed about the frying pan incident. Okay. Now I can move on and really get into the bitching.

Here’s what bugs me about this whole thing. First, if she didn’t want to watch Bubba, I wish she could have just said “I’m sorry, Depressionista, but I just don’t feel up to it today,” or “It just really tires me out to have him overnight,” or something even closely resembling the truth. But having to shop for a new frying pan???? Jesus!

Secondly, I think about all the times she said (and even as recently as last week, says) she wants to have Bubba for a weekend or an overnight but then never carries through on it unless I specifically ask (beg). What happened to the woman who just couldn’t wait for me to procreate so she could have all this quality time with my child?

Third, it sparks off a smidge of paranoia in me that wow, my kid must really be a brat. Maybe I’m delusional but I really don’t think he is (at least not any more than any other three-year-old) but an excuse like having to go shopping for a frying pan makes you kind of think twice, you know? And if, in fact, she really doesn’t like watching him because he’s a terror, I’d rather have her be honest with me and maybe give me some useful information that I could work with than making up this ridiculously stupid excuse.

Finally…she had to go SHOPPING FOR A FRYING PAN??? This is the best she could come up with after three hours, including a half an hour with nothing to do but think while she waited for me to come out of the exam room? This excuse was so bad that it was almost impossible for either one of us to pretend that it was even remotely believable.

I so wanted to call her tonight and ask her if she had found the perfect frying pan and ask her to tell me all about it. “Tell me, Mom, is it stainless steel or Teflon-coated? A Calphalon, perhaps Farberware? Ten-inch or twelve-inch?” And, in my fantasy, this final question: “Was shopping for the frying pan more fulfilling than spending quality time with your grandson?”

I really do hope that at some point, she does ask me if she can have Bubba for a night or a weekend, and I hope I will have the guts (and not be so desperate to unload my kid) that I'll be able to say, "Gee, Mom, that would be great, but we're going shopping tomorrow for a new frying pan and Bubba's really excited about it so I think we'll have to make it some other time."

In reality, I'll have to just let this slide because I know I will at some point be desperate to unload my kid and I'll have to ask (beg) her to take him again, and because I know from experience that any kind of honesty surrounding this issue will just cause more trouble than it's worth. I don't want to deal with the crying and the hurt feelings and Dad telling me how much I've hurt my mother, yada yada blah blah blah. But last night, when I was feeling sick and feverish and wanting to cry but trying not to so I wouldn't drown my poor, ailing sinuses in mucus, and this morning when I sat in the living room and did cry in spite of everything, and in front of Bubba who then asked if I was sad and brought me a tissue to wipe my tears, and as I watched my sick husband take our son out to the mall because I was feeling so horrible, and as I looked at all the laundry that needs to be done because I can't do anything and J. is expending all of his meager store of energy on taking care of Bubba...I felt really alone. And sad.

Friday, October 26, 2007


And just like that, I'm blogging again. Hi! I decided that it really wasn't fair to my minions to deprive them of my witty observations. I decided that I really do have a duty to make sure my revelations and my daily trials, tribulations and triumphs are available to help others deal with their own life challenges. I mean, how can I, in good conscience, not share this wisdom with the world? We all have a responsibility to do our part, and if this is my calling, well, I just need to put my own wants and needs aside and make this sacrifice for the greater good. Thanks to Oprah for setting such a good example!

I've actually done a fair amount of thinking about blogging. I've decided that I like putting my "stuff" out there, but that I really need to just be myself and be true to my own voice, as cheesy as that sounds. I guess I realize that if I can blog without worrying about offending people or whether or not I have any readers, then it will be a more honest experience for me, and that's what I'm looking for. I may never have more than three readers (Tingle, LilCherie and Pioneer Girl, I'm counting on you). I may never go to BlogHer and therefore never have the requisite "I'm so nervous about going to BlogHer!" and "BlogHer was awesome!" posts (although against my better judgment, I might jump on the NaBloPoMo bandwagon because I always thought tht would be kinda cool). But I hope to have some fun and maybe work some shit out along the way. I have no idea if this even makes any sense. It's 1:30 a.m. and I'm recovering from sinus surgery and totally drugged out on hydrocodone.

So...sinus surgery. Don't ever, ever, do this unless you really have some major, horribly painful sinus issues that need to be dealt with. I thought I did, but, three days after surgery, I'm wondering if they were really that bad. Honestly. I've had surgeries that required me to pack a gaping, oozing wound right next to my clitoris for Christ's sake and still, not as bad as this. I'm just sayin'.

I have lots of things I want to blog about. Here, for future reference, and so I can remember them later when I'm not fogged out on pain meds, are a few:

*Blogs I Like and Blogs I Don't and Why. What I Want This Blog to Be and What I Don't Want It to Be.
*Celebrating the Vulva, or, Why It's Kind-Of Embarrassing to Say the Word "Vulva," Why It's Kind-Of Embarrassing to Discuss Medical Issues Pertaining to the Vulva, and Ways to Bring the Vulva Out of the Closet.
*Why Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Everything Related to It Kind-Of Pisses Me Off.
*My Consternation Over the Fact that My Neighbor is Building the World's Most Awesome "Play Structure" for Their Son While We Will Never Be Able to Afford Anything Close to That for Our Son and Whether or Not This Will Scar Him for Life and Why, WHY Am I Even Spending Time Thinking About This?
*Oprah. Yes, I've blogged about The Big O before but I don't feel I'm done with this issue. Especially not after catching it today, on a day when I felt especially shitty about my physical health/life/the world, and it was fucking Seal and Heidi Klum and their awesome fucking life together. PUKE!
*How Much the Viagra/Cialis Ads Gross Me Out and Why.
*My Life as a Trichotillomaniac.
*Notes From Daycare: How They Automatically Make You Feel Like a Failure as a Parent.
*The Places I'm Afraid to Go in Therapy.
*The Grossest Thing Your Body Has Ever Done/Produced. This will require reader participation, so I might have to save this one for later, when my readership has grown exponentially despite my complete disregard for whether or not anyone is reading me.

So. Here I go again. I'm already having fun!