Anyone who knows me knows that my mother has driven me both figuratively and literally crazy over the years.
She’s my mother. I love her. But she’s insane.
Now she’s on Facebook. One of the few places I thought I would be safe from her infiltrating my life.
A few days ago I saw her leave a message for a girl that was my very best friend in the whole wide world all through middle school, junior high, and high school.
We were like sisters. We dressed alike, dyed our hair weird colors together, pierced each others ears using safety pins and ice cubes.
That girl then proceeded to date the one boy everyone in the world knew I had a crush on for my whole life, and then slept with my very first real boyfriend, who I dated after I graduated and who I gave my most precious gift to. My flower, if you will. (I’m talking about my virginity, people.)
I uninvited that girl from my life party after about a year of her hurting me and doing things that most people think are pretty unforgiveable.
So what does my mom do? Friends her on Facebook and sends her love-dovey messages about how much she misses her.
Now they’re suddenly FB Besties, messaging back and forth.
What the what?
Then I see her leave a similar message for my ex-boyfriend.
“Hey sweetie. Miss you so much. SG’s sister will be in town soon and we’d love if you could photograph her and the baby.”
Huh?
This is the woman who, when I practically divorced this guy three years ago (I say “divorce” because we had been dating nearly six years and had a house together and two dogs,) and I came to her crying and really distraught about the whole decision said, “Poor Ex Boyfriend. He must be so upset.”
Now they’re FB Friends Forever, too. I’m waiting for pictures of them wearing each other’s half heart necklaces.
And the kicker of this whole thing is that she actually posted a photo album called “My Life” and had about 20 pictures in it. My sister was there, my brother, his girlfriend, some 28-year-old girl named Bobbi Jo Sue Ann Mary or something from Wisconsin who she used to work with. Guess who wasn’t there? Me!
Some people worry about being FB friends with guys they’re dating, or friends from high school, or guys they used to date, etc. My worst FB nightmare has turned out to be my very own mother.
There are people in this world you will never quite understand. Never quite get along with, no matter how hard you try. It’s sad when one of those people is the same person who pushed you out of her vag 30 years ago. You’d think there’d be an assumed closeness that went with all of that.
I’ve been trying for a very long time to have the kind of bond with my mom that I see some of my girlfriends have with theirs. Going shopping. Getting pedis. Scrapbooking. But I don’t like those things. Well, pedis are aight.
The thing is, my mom likes Aerosmith. This just about sums up why we’re not friends. Kidding. Kind of.
Maybe some of us are just not meant to be friends with our parents. I gave it the college try. After 30 years, I think it’s OK to stop trying so hard. I’m not saying I want to be estranged or anything, I just want to not feel bad about the fact that I don’t particularly like spending a lot of time with her and I don’t want her to know the details of my life.
Is that POSSIBLE?!?
Feedback. Do any of you have rough relationships with the ’rents. How do you deal?
(P.S. Just a reminder: It is Limerick Wednesday. Keep ‘em coming Would haikus be easier? I rock the haiku.)
