ye olde crapfest

damn the wednesdays. i have soooooo much to do before i leave on friday, including getting up the gumption to actually call and talk to my mother. that's guaranteed to bring me more hassle than all the rest of it. you see, my mother is less like a mother and more like a really fucked up 47-year-old teenager with too many children and not enough common sense. and she always manages to make my visits up there more stressful than they need to be. she acts like her intentions are good ("i missed out on watching you grow up! i just want to spend time with you!") but i can see right through all that action. in reality, she thrives upon drama...creating it, cultivating it, maintaining it... and my sister and i are just one more thing that helps her to create and intensify tension within the extended family. she's the reason my sister won't be coming along this summer, plain and simple. sarah can't deal with it... she's too much like my mother to put up with her crap; instead they butt heads and feed each others' anger--it's never pretty. i on the other hand feel like "hey, i only see the woman once a year, it's not like she ever calls me or tries to actually be involved in any other way, i can put up with it for a week IF (and this is key) that's what it takes to see my brother." and the week always comes and goes, and i put up with her crap, and she makes things really rough, but i get to spend time with elijah, who grows a full year in between our all-too-infrequent visits, and that's all i really care about. with z there, she'll most likely be on her best behavior, at least until she gets 18 bud lights in her.

some folks hear me talk about my "relationship" with my "mother" and i can see the look of pity and shock in their eyes... a lot of it sounds not so much jerry springer-esque, maybe more like rikki lake-esque, but it's my reality, and has been my whole life. i feel like i've done pretty well for myself even if you factor in all the craziness. a lot of times, i don't factor in the craziness. my father did just fine taking care of my sister and i, he's really one of the most noble and dedicated and great men on the planet, i guarantee that... it always pissed me off when my sister tried to act like we'd had some sort of rough upbringing, and tried to use that as her excuse for being all fucked up, when in reality it's my mother's damn DNA that did it.

anyway, yes, it's a tragic tale of abandonment and maliciousness and drinking and drugs and emotional abuse. but i'm not too worried about it. you see, it's helped me to KNOW exactly what i DON'T want to be. really, if anything, it's made me a really good mama (no, no babies yet). whether you're my animal, my friend, my significant other (hi zack) or even the neighbor kid, i try really hard to look after you. to not flake out when you need me. to make you a boob cake or something on your birthday. so if that's what i've learned from my mother, then thanks mom, i appreciate it. you believin'-in-fairies sunburned drunk you.