Something unexpected happened

I have fallen love.

I never thought it would happen again.  I thought I had my chance in the past and screwed it up, or that I was destined to live alone in exchange for something I had done earlier, or even in a past life.  I was ok with that for the most part – horny occasionally – but still ok with being the strange cat lady years after both kids went off on their own. 

But someone found me on myspace, someone that crossed my mind here and there.  The last time I saw him was the day before my 18th birthday, half a lifetime ago.  The last time I kissed him was 20 years ago.  And there he was.  He was getting out of a relationship and saw me on a mutual friend’s list.  We emailed back and forth for a bit, and little by little, the conversations got more serious, more intimate.  Then he called me.

He lives still in Florida, where I went to high school, went through puberty, met my ex-husband, and did a lot of things I’m not necessarily proud of.  I’ve only visited the area once in the past ten years, and that was just for a moment when I picked up my baby sister and her family, and then stopped at my Grammie’s for lunch.  My sister moved back on Christmas Day, if you remember, and I’ve been toying with the idea of taking a beach vacation.

It seems like I have much more incentive now.  I can’t get him out of my mind.  Since I am that kind of geek, I checked my cell phone, in the past week we’ve spent almost 24 hours on the phone to each other.  No, I’m not kidding.  I don’t even think we were on the phone that much when we dated twenty years ago.

He reminded me of how we met.  I had forgotten. I had pushed a lot of those memories out of the way because my ex-husband was always disturbed by the thought that there were others before him.  So I tried to erase that part.  But the truth is, he was my first love.  Which makes this even stranger.  This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life, does it?  This is something for Oprah or Montel, or Disney, right? 

Imagine how much twenty years can change a person.  I may still be as goofy and fun as I was then, but I’m not nearly as impulsive or selfish.  I have two children that are my top priorty, and he has three.  Yes, I had to laugh at the fact that he’s raising three daughters, considering my father once threatened to kill him.  And I wonder what my father would think of him now.  Deep down, I think he would be happy for me finding something so wonderful again.

I fight a lot with that nagging little brat deep inside of me, the one that tells me that I don’t deserve to be happy, that I’m supposed to suffer.  Or maybe it’s not my own voice I hear, but my mother’s.  Well, screw her and her voice.  I deserve this.  I’m happy like I don’t know I’ve ever been in my entire life, and I think it’s because I’m ok with me deep inside, ok enough to share that with someone else.  And I found a wonderful man, intelligent, creative, funny, and very freaking sexy, that can appreciate who I am for real.  I had my hesistations because of who he was in the past, and some of the things he’s done, but he’s not holding my past against me so it wouldn’t be fair if I did.  I see who he is right now, and I’m in love with him.

I’m still loved, subtitled: I was wrong

I gathered my courage and called my Grammie last night.  I really wanted to hear her voice and know that she was ok.  She was very excited to hear from me, but one of the first things she said was, “have you heard from your mother?”  I put on my big girl pants and said that I hadn’t spoken to her since she said she was suing me.

My youngest sister went no contact with our mother back in May, when NM called her boss playing the concerned mother because my sis didn’t answer her calls.  She lives a town away from my grammie, and I live a few states away, unfortunately a town away from NM.  Anyway, after my sis cut off communication, she had gone to visit Grammie with my niece and nephews.  When my grandmother told my mother after in a phone call, NM went off on my grandmother!  She told my grammie that she should have defended her, and yelled at my sister for how she spoke to her, for avoiding her calls.  My grandmother said that she didn’t know how my sister spoke to her, she wasn’t there, and that it wasn’t her place. 

My mother hung up on my grandmother.  They haven’t spoken in a couple months now. 

I told her honestly that I had been avoiding calling her because I dind’t know what NM had said to her to poison her against me, and it turns out, my grammie felt the same way.  We talked honestly about NM, and lovingly about my kids and how she’s feeling and when I might get to come visit. 

I told my daughter later that I was so stinking happy that someone in my family could love me no matter what, and in the process, validate my feelings about NM.  She didn’t quite understand, but that’s because she has a lot of family on the other side that are relatively normal (with the exception of her father).  Sometimes I wonder if my sis and I aren’t in a fantasy world, viewing NM as the evil queen.  But to have others validate that, that was incredible.

 

And I forgot to add!  My grandmother told me that in all the time she was visiting NM, her visiting nurse (mom’s, not my grammie’s) gave her a clean bill of health each visit.  She told me that when NM visited the cardiologist and told him that my grammie has a pacemaker, she acted hurt when he told her that her heart was fine.  My grammie said it was like she was jealous of the pacemaker or something – her words!

She also told me that NM has isolated her from her substitute son, the one that gave her a cell phone after I had “taken” hers away from her.  My daughter said that she was worried about NM isolating herself, that she felt guilty.  We then discussed other ways NM has made my children feel guilty in the past, like telling my then-4yo son that if he didn’t stop crying she was going to have a heart attack because she couldn’t handle the tears.  I told her that NM has created her environment, and I wasn’t going to feel guilty anymore.

Update from yesterday

I want to thank those of you who were there for me yesterday so much for your support. This was a big blow. I remember calling her from the emergency room years ago, when I thought my ex might have broken my shoulder, telling her he hurt me. She came in like the calvary to help, so she said. However, the next day when I ran to get tylenol or something for my son, who was barely a year old at the time, when I got home, he was sitting on the couch with a diaper that had run through his sleeper. She said she didn’t notice. I remember thinking then…how…?

Anyway, I called and talked to my sister last night. She said that the email she had gotten from NM was titled something like, to make me feel better. The content simply stated, I take payments, again referring to the $259 that she supposedly owes her. I suggested she start sending the woman a penny a month, as a joke. At least it got a good laugh.

This morning I logged back into myspace and reported her for the pictures of me and my children posted without my permission. They are posted where anyone can view them. Not even the pictures on my profile, especially of the kids, are open for public view. I’m not trying to get revenge, I’m just trying to make it clear that I want nothing to do with her at all, and despite her sense of entitlement, she doesn’t have and right to show off my children as part of her.

Also, I would like to mention my recent viewers that ended up here by looking for the Next Food Network Star, and ending up viewing the adorable picture of my son taken close to two years ago.  I hope you drop back by occasionally, since I am a fan of the show, and finally watched the finale last night, a day late.  I’m happy with the results, though I really thing the other guy would have made a more interesting show in the end.

Blindsided

I’ve been no contact with my narcissistic mother now for months, and haven’t seen her in person since October of last year, when she came smiling to my work with a friend of hers to retrieve her beloved tea sets.  I was aware that she had created a myspace profile, and now that she has my younger sister at her side (which is another story, part of the Memory Eraser post that I can’t bring myself to finish), has been more active there. 

Last night, I got a friend request from my baby sister, which was odd, since she’s already on my friends list.  NM hadn’t dare send a request to me, and I denied our middle sister.  I texted my baby sister and asked if it was legit, and what the deal was.  She said that our mother had emailed her through her myspace, and though she hadn’t replied, she couldn’t bring herself to block her.  So this morning, I logged on to accept my baby sis’s request, and to check out our NM’s profile.  Not only does she have pictures of my and my children, along with my sisters and their children, but she had a new friend: my ex-husband.

Yes, boys and girls, the fucker that tried to kill me, the one that drove my daughter around with an open beer can in his hand, the one that left her at nine years old with some friends outside a bar so he could run in for a bit, is now her friend.  I’m sure they can related really well, being both malignantly narcissistic and both having access to my children on my terms.  Actually, my ex’s access is based on the judge’s terms, that he be supervised at all times.  NM, who threated to take me to court to see the kids has actually had access – she just chose not to take it because it wasn’t on her terms. 

I can’t even describe how ill and shocked I felt when I saw that.  That the woman that professed to love me (even though I felt the truth) would be so obsessed with getting even that she would pull him into her corner.  If I ever doubted her true identity, I do no longer.

Random snippets

Good morning all.  I sit here, jaw sore from a root canal yesterday afternoon, contemplating taking a painkiller at work.  My boss knows; I think he thinks it would be funny to get me loopy at work, but I’m not at that point at the moment.  I have to go back in two weeks for them to set the crown, and in the meantime, find an endodontist that accepts our dental insurance to fix a previous root canal directly under the tooth that was worked on yesterday.  Not fun.  I can blame this on years of sleeping with my mouth open (due to my tonsils probably), maybe on the tongue ring that I haven’t put back in a while, my obsessive ice chomping, or probably a combination of all three. 

Amy is finishing up her last two half-days of the 7th grade, and then its onto a summer of laziness.  It will be interesting how active her social life has been, since we’ve moved.  She and her brother are going to Houston to visit their cousins next week, but other than that, I’m sure she will probably fit in a lot of group activities during my work day with her friends.  Brody’s preschool sent home their blankies and pillows to transition them into a real kindergarten day this summer.  I have to bring the book he made in class to scan it – it’s adorable.  It’s an “About Me,” book, with some cute pictures.

On the food front, I made more spring rolls last night using the method from Tableau Vivante.  They recommend instead of soaking the spring roll wrappers in warm water, instead, layer them between damp paper towels for about ten minutes prior to use.  I found this worked very well in keeping the wrappers intact – out of eight I made last night, only one bust through, and I think that was due to the sharpish shredded carrots. 

On the NM front, my mother called my Amy this weekend and left a message, since Amy isn’t answering her calls.  It was essentially, I’m still here, I love you, I should have called you sooner (?), kiss your brother for me.  I’m considering changing her phone number, since I pay the bill, and am still the mother.  While the message may seem innocuous to many people, with our history of threats and manipulation, I would like to restrict her contact with my children as going through me only.  That’s fair, no? 

I also made a decision recently.  I have been a part of a support board since I found out I was pregnant with my son in February, 2002.  The members have dwindled down, but it’s still a very active board.  However, one of the admins is now using this board as her narcissistic supply, in addition to a few other places online.  She has created a drama that seems so outrageous that I was finding myself angry each time I visited, angry that someone would think I/we would be so gullible, and angry for those believing her and offering her support and help.  I was taking it very personally, so I made the decision to break off my membership for good.  This board was a healthy source of support and entertainment for me off and on over the past six years, and now I’ve let go of that crutch as it was hurting me more than helping me.  I miss the routine, but I am kinda proud of myself for dropping that crutch.

Anyway, hope you all had a great weekend. 

I’ve paid my dues

I hate that phrase.  How many times have I heard my mother use that phrase to justify her sense of entitlement.  Seriously, when do those dues come up again?  And what exactly do I owe her now.  When I hit 18, she pretty much said to my face, ok, I’m through, even though I had already moved out twice before then.  So if I owe her for 18 years, and my 36th birthday was last week, then I’m through, right?  I can stop pretending to the world that she was a good mother, a sane mother, and that we were a happy family.  And I can stop tolerating the guilt trips that have been dished to me at the proverbial family table. 

I was in my early 20s, before I was married, and I asked my mother to do me a favor.  I had a video due, and asked if she would return it for me her next trip by, since I was in the process of moving 40 minutes the opposite direction.  A month later, I got some scary calls from the video store.  She didn’t return it.  I went to retrieve the video, and made it known I was angry that she had made a commitment to do something and did not.  But I had no right to be mad at her, since it was a favor.  I remember being in my stepfather’s kitchen, and the man I would marry sitting there too, when she told me how grateful I should be to her for having me.  I remember my words too, something similar to ‘animals in the wild give birth, it’s not that big of an accomplishment.”  The woman backed me against the wall with her fist in my face.  I told her to go ahead, hit me, I wasn’t afraid.  I think it was my ex that got me out of there before she actually did get physical with me, even though, if I were younger, or had he not been there, I don’t doubt I would have been punched. 

There was a quote in the book I am currently reading,  If You Had Controlling Parents: How to Make Peace with Your Past and Take Your Place in the World that struck me as so poignant, I went back ten pages and copied it to text to my sister.  It’s attributed to Andrew Vachss, and can also be seen in context here:

They use guilt the same way a loan shark uses money: They don’t want the “debt” paid off, because they live quite happily on the “interest.”

My debt is paid.

 

My sister moves back in

Last October, I got the phone call from my sister.  She and her partner were having some very bad times, and she was pretty sure it was the end.  I was not surprised to when I got a call from her partner the day before Halloween asking me if I knew where she was.  I was a bit surprised to find that she and her three kids were at my mother’s house.  The next day, she loaded her kids in their costumes and headed for my home again. 

My sister and I have lived together more than a few times in the past.  It started when she was 13, and my mother had decided that my sister was the one with the mental illness.  After the inpatient evaluation, I picked my sister up from the hospital.  My mom had very recently remarried, and my sister was the only one left in the household out of all of the offspring.  I was in a fairly stable relationship, and had the couch space, and agreed she could stay as long as she wanted. 

I remember the call from my dad very clearly.  I hadn’t spoken to him in maybe a year or two, so I was shocked he had a phone number for me.  He told me that if I wanted permanent custody of my sister, he would support me.  It seemed like neither of my parents’ spouses were up for raising someone else’s child.  He also told me that he understood why my sister was there, since, and I quote, “your mother is crazy.”  At the time, and for many years to follow, I didn’t understand the depth of his words.  I thought they were just used to strike out at the woman he divorced. 

What drove the conversation home permanently was the fact that twelve hours later, my mother called me to tell me that my father had died.  At first, I doubted her – irrationally I thought she was telling me this because she had found out that he was in favor of the current custodial arrangement and she was angry.  It was true, however.  My mother, the shallow human she is, didn’t even have the maternal instinct to tell my sister herself that our father was dead.  It was left in my hands, as many things concerning her well-being had been through our lives.  It was a short period later that my sister wanted to return home.  She had lost one parent permanently, and craved the presence of the other, as weak as the relationship might have been.

When my sister showed up again last year, kids in tow, I again fell into the position of caretaker, though not to the extent as the previous year.  I had already been working on boundaries, and set a few early on.  This was to be temporary.  My children would not give up their rooms this time.  I would not buy her children clothing or school supplies, though, with her being unemployed, I did buy a lot of groceries. 

Shortly after my sister moved in with me, and enrolled the kids in school, she recieved a call from the school nurse.  Without going into detail, my niece required an emergency room visit.  My sister happened to be at my mother’s house at the time, using her computer, and no one was at my house.  My sister had my daughter’s house key, since she would be back before the kids got off the school bus.  However, as the emergency room visit started to stretch out, as they all do, my sister called, worried.  She didn’t think she would be back at the apartment to let my daughter and her sons in the house when they got home.  And here’s where this gets even more interesting.  Instead of my sister driving her car from mom’s to pick up my sister and go to the emergency room, my mother, who I guess was bored, or needed the attention of a sick grandchild, offered to drive.

My mother was in the waiting room, doing nothing, while my sister was trying to calm my niece.  I told my sister to have our mother take the key and meet my daughter three miles away.  She wouldn’t even have to get out of the car – Amy could keep the boys occupied in the overlap time between when they got off the school bus and when either she or I could make it home.  My sister said that our mother probably wouldn’t do that.  Still at work, I recieved a voicemail from our mother: “Your sister is in the hospital with (my niece) and there’s no way she will be there to let the kids in the house.  It’s in your hands now.”

So I called our mother’s cell phone.  I started with, “I need you to get Amy’s key from (my sister), bring it to her,” before I was interrupted with, “Don’t you mean (my sister)’s key?  Your sister is scared to death that your going to kick her out and her daughter is so sick!”  So, before I could let the manipulation continue, I restarted, “I need you to get Amy’s key,” before I was interrupted a second time with, “Yeah, YOU NEED ME!” And she hung up.

In vain, I tried calling both her and my sister’s cell phone.  No answer, but I did get a call from my grandmother in a completely different state.  She said that my mother had called all upset about how I wouldn’t help my sister.  I attempted to set the record straight by telling her straight up that my mother had access to the key, but refused to help and instead hung up on me.

In the end, I left work early.  My mother, in her need for drama and pettiness, decided that it was more important to teach me a lesson about my responsibility to my sister and her kids, than to let her grandchildren out of the cold.

 

 

Grandparent rights in Texas

According to Texas law:

§ 153.433. Possession of and Access to Grandchild

The court shall order reasonable possession or or access to a grandchild by a grandparent if:

• 1) at the time the relief is requested, at least one biological or adoptive parent of the child has not had that parent’s parental rights terminated; and
• 2) the grandparent requesting possession of or access to the child overcomes the presumption that a parent acts in the best interest of the parent’s child by proving by a preponderance of the evidence that denial of possession of or access to the child would significantly impair the child’s physical health or emotional well-being , and
• 3) the grandparent requesting possession of or access to the child is a parent of a parent of the child and that parent of the child:
• a) has been incarcerated in jail or prison during the three-month period preceding the filing of the petition.
• b) has been found by a court to be incompetent
• c) is dead; or
• d) does not have actual or court ordered possession of or access to the child.

 

 

 

I don’t have time for that sort of behavior in my life right now

Babysitting:

For a short period of time, my mother babysat my son during the day, and my daughter caught the bus to her house after school.  I was unemployed, and she would watch him while I looked for a job.  Now, my son is a pretty easy going kid.  Put on PBS, tell him when snack time is, set up a good routine, and he a content creature.  I had been employed for a bit when my mother decided that it was too much stress on her to have the kids each day.  I understood, and I respected that.  My daughter was old enough, and it was summer, so she and I worked out an arrangement where she could watch her brother at the house while I was at work a few miles away. 

The cell phone:

The year before I moved back to East Texas, my sister and her family had come to live with me.  After about six months, it was entirely too cramped, and I needed space for my family and I.  I needed a set of rules that worked with the three of us, and not eight.  I needed independence.  However, when my sister first moved in, I picked up a third line on my cell contract for her as it would be cheapest for her.  I was in that contract for a year.  When I moved to East Texas, and my mother was doing “favors” for me, like watching the kids, I told her she could use the cell phone since I still had a half a year left on it.  She cancelled her long distance service on her home phone since she was getting it for free. 

The plea for attention:

At some point after my mother stopped babysitting, and my kids were staying at home, my mother called to ask me if I wanted to meet her for lunch.  I wasn’t able to answer my cell phone at the time, so she left a message, and then a moment later called back and left a second.  I’m fortunate to have a job where I can adjust my hours to be with my kids as much as possible.  I called her back and left a message that I wasn’t going to lunch that day, since I was leaving early to be with the kids later.  This was not an acceptable answer to her.  You see, you cannot tell my mother no.  She called three more times, the last time I did pick up even though I was at my desk at work, and told her I had already left her an answer that I couldn’t make it.

She was determined I would see her that day.  The next phone call I got was close to midnight.  She was in the emergency room.  She wasn’t sure what was wrong, and neither were the doctors, but they gave her a pain pill and sent her home.  Well, she had taken an ambulance, so she couldn’t drive home.  Oh, and she had not brought her purse either.  I explained to her that both of my children were asleep, and I couldn’t wake them to go get her to bring her home.  She said, that’s ok, I’ll just stay here in the waiting room all night long.  Someone will get me in the morning.”  If I would have been in the place that I am now, I would have accepted that answer and went back to bed.  Instead, I ended up talking to the nurse at the er, and then arranging a taxi, paid for by my credit card over the phone, to take her home.  I called her for the next two days to find out how she was doing, and only on the third day did she answer.  She said she thought maybe it was a migraine.

The contract ends:

I knew I was being manipulated.  I felt like an object, not a person to her.  I started distancing myself, and then the cell phone contract was up.  I emailed asking for the phone back, since I could switch sim cards and my daughter could use the phone, after hers went through the washer.  Especially since she was now watching her brother, it was imperitive she have a phone to reach me.  My mother refused to answer the email requests for the phone, countering with, when I can see the kids.

I drove to her home to get the phone.  She claimed that she had put it in a bag with the charger, but she couldn’t find it anymore.  But I was welcome to come inside and look for it.  I was not going into that house.  She asked for a hug, and I declined.  She put on the hurt face, and said, “why won’t you let your mother hug you?”  I lied, somewhat, and said I didn’t like anyone hugging me.  In the end, I walked away from her front porch without the phone and only more frustrated than when I drove out there to begin with, and found a different phone for my daughter to use.  However, to her friends, I had taken away her cell phone, and how could a daughter do that to a handicapped mother.  She managed to manipulate another friend into picking up an additional line on their plan instead, so she still has a cell phone she isn’t paying for.

 The tea sets:

Years ago, my mother put a few boxes of tea sets that my father had given to her in storage at my ex-husband’s house.  These sets, she insisted, were for us girls to have when she died.  I don’t have a good relationship with my ex, and would choose to never speak to him again if I could.  However, she decided it was my responsibility to get these sets back for her.  I didn’t want to.  I did it anyway.  The entire situation was insanely awkward, and put me in a situation where I was asking for something from someone who had hurt me physically in the past.  Once I had the tea sets in the trunk of my car, they were promply forgotten about my mother.  I had done her bidding, and was small and insignificant again. 

I emailed her to get the sets out of the back of my car.  And what followed was her emailed projection of my issues:

Toni Jo, you are filled with self-pity and I hope this will help you.
This is NOT a “been there-done that”.  This is experience.  Years ago,
when your dad and I seperated I was in therapy.  I had no money, no food
and no car.  I had three children that depended on me and I was scared.
Pappy and Grammy were there to listen to me and to give me rides when I
needed to go someplace.  Well, one weekend, they went to Birmingham.  I
was devastated!  I didn’t understand how they could leave me when I
needed them so much.  Well, I managed  to get through the weekend and the
following Monday I saw my therapist.  I told him how angry I was with my
parents for deserting me.  He smiled.  Then he asked, “Did your parents
force you to marry that man?”  Of course I said no.  Then he asked, “Did
your parents force you to have children?”  Again I said no.  Then he
said, “Why do you expect so much of them?  You made the adult decisions
and you (and only you) are responsible.”
Toni Jo, you seem to be thinking like I did.  You expect me to be helping
you more than I am.  Please try to understand what he said to me and what
I’m tryng to explain to you.  I wish I could remember his exact words.
But he made me realize that I couldn’t depend on anyone.  I made the
choices.  They were my choices.  Do you understand what I’m saying?
I never knew I was manipulating you.  I still don’t see how I did. I
tried to help.  I baby-sat for you even when you went shopping.  I tried
to have a hot meal for you to eat after work.  I did these things because
I wanted to, not because it was what I was suppose to do. I lost my
Grandmother relationship with your children and I want that back.  They
grew to think of me as a baby-sitter, not their Gran.  My health was
drained. And I’m not blaming you  for that.   Again, I did these things
because wanted to.  I simply couldn’t do them long enough for you.   I am
very conscious of your situation.  I have been there.  You are handling
it much, much better than I.  And yes, your first responsiblity is to
your children.  That’s the way it should be.  I am working on finding
someone to help me get the boxes.  I will email you as soon as I find
someone that can help me with them. I wouldn’t want you to be in pain for
me.  I don’t expect  that at all.  What kind of a mother do you think I
am?   I will also work on finding someone else to pick us up at the
airport.  It’s my decision to go and my decision to bring my mom back
with me, right?  I love you, Mom

And my response:

First of all, I am not pitiful – I am quite proud of who I am, what I’ve come from.  I’m damn proud of the fact that I would rather work my ass of to support myself and my children than live off anyone else.    I hope I instill in them the same sort of ethic.
 
And second, I expect nothing of you.  I have learned from the past, or should I say, I keep learning, that you are unreliable, and will flake out on anything that is not “fun.”   Just when I think that maybe you have changed, I am brought back to reality.   And the truth is, I’m not asking you to change, just as I would hope you not ask me to change.  But just know that I don’t have time for that sort of behavior in my life right now. 

I was never angry at her for not helping me.  I don’t know how to stress that enough.  I had done very well as a single parent for years before moving out here, and continue to do well without her in my life.  She wanted to badly to make me like her, that she even painted her therapy sessions on me.  It made me sick to my stomach how she could try to use guilt to manipulate me, and the people around her.   How she could continually complain about her health, but in moment she now denies, admit that she was afraid to take her medication properly because she might get better and have to work again.  I lost so much respect for her, watching her manipulate the system that way.  This wasn’t a value I wanted my children to learn as acceptable, that they should get all they could from anyone or anything without earning it.   Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand why welfare programs exist.  For the first year when I was on my own with the kids, I had a daycare subsidy that I don’t know whether I could have made it without.  I have utilized the state children’s health insurance when I was unemployed.  But I knew that neither would be, nor should be a permanent solution.  My mother, who is only 61, lives off of food stamps, government subsidized housing, disability, and my father’s social security check.  She has refused to do physical therapy.  She has a breathing treatment machine by her bed that is dusty.  She had gastric bypass surgery six years ago, and still keeps a bag of cheetos by her computer.  I could go on, but I’ll stop there, and save it for another day. 

Grief and the object of her rage

I decided to take the kids shopping this Saturday, thanks to handy tax rebate.  We were through lunch, and getting to the good stores when my sister sent me a text, saying that mom was now doing it to her.  I called to try to get the scoop, and because she was low on minutes, ended up with a string of text messages instead.

It seems that our mother called for a loan repayment, one that my sister had attempted on two previous occasions to repay.  Both times, my mother had told her to use it on the kids.  You see, my sister, similar to my situation, is raising three children on her own, though on a waitress’s salary.  How she does it, I can only imagine.  When my sister didn’t call her back immediately, well, for a couple days, my mother decided to call her boss, essentially tattling, but making it seem like she was concerned.  When my sister finally did call her, after the woman completely tore through that boundary, she was yelled at how she needed that money now and how ungrateful my sister was, not allowed to reply before my mother hung up on her. 

My sister knows why she needs the money – it’s for the lawyer to sue me.  So now, my mother is trampling over my sister and her children also in her narcissistic rage.  It should go without typing, but if my mother were so concerned with her grandchildren, hence the false reason for suing me, why would she be taking money away from them? 

Yesterday, as you may have known, was my birthday.  I did not recieve a single present, not even a card, from a member of my “family.”  (My sister did send me another text, and I did appreciate it.)  Though, both Thursday and Friday I received emailed requests from my mother asking for my kids to spend the night.  I didn’t reply, only archived the requests immediately.  It is completely no contact now, especially if she wants to bring it to court.  I will not have anything I say twisted to be used against me, as she’s already painted me as the evil daughter.  And it’s not that I want a present or something from the woman, but I was very sad that I didn’t even get a call from my grandmother.  My son did make me three cool Mother’s Day cards at preschool, and my daughter attempted to make eggs, but we won’t discuss how that turned out. 

So today, I’m still sad.  I don’t want to wallow in pity, but I will allow myself a time to grieve, since in the past, I would just stuff it down.   I know if I’m going to heal, I have to accept the situation and not ignore it.