Nautral Mothers

I started to recognize that something was off with my mother in my early twenties.  Not that I attributed it directly to her.  For years, she and I had been sort of at odds.  I blamed my parents divorce and my mother's sudden interest in her "new family" for the strain.  But as I moved into my twenties, and NM pushed me more and more to "get over" the divorce, it started to dawn on me.  I wasn't angry for things she'd done in the past, I was angry for things she was doing in the present.  Undermining me, triangulating me, pushing me.  Insulting me and my husband, guilting me, obligating me to do things, manipulating me and pushing me to manipulate others. 

Things went down hill from there.  And when I had my own children, it all came crashing to a head.  It might have been the way she obsessed over my new baby.  Or how she over involved herself in my pregnancy.  She described endlessly to many people how difficult my pregnancy had been on her.  She took over.  She pushed more.  She demanded that I appreciate everything she did for me, even if I didn't want her to do these things.  Having my own kids opened my eyes wide to the shocking reality of having a narcissistic mother. 

I had a difficult time connecting to my fetus.  I didn't have all of those gushy, romantic daydreams.  I was sick, very, very sick for a long time.  Pregnancy was hard on me.  NM criticized me for not being more excited.  She criticized me for not thinking of my baby more when I had a small glass of wine on Christmas (I didn't drink during my pregnancy or for months before as I tried to conceive).  She questioned every choice I made, demanding I take the best care of my baby (I often wonder what she thought I was doing or why I wouldn't make the best choices for my baby).  Nm talked of falling "instantly" in love with my sister and I. 

For me, I don't think the reality of the baby really dawned on me.  It all seemed so abstract.  Even seeing my belly swelling and feeling kicking did little to help me "connect" in the way NM already seemed to be to my fetus.  I'm sure that I was choosing, on some level, to remain a little distant.  I'm sure that I feared things would not go well (I was in shock that my baby was adorable when he was born, I was sure that he would not be).  I really struggled to believe that things would be positive and not negative.  I stressed, I worried, I wondered "what have I done".  I was scared shitless.  And  I think, for me, it was a little difficult to fall in love with an "abstract" concept, a creature that I had not met and had no relationship with. 

NM went on and on about un-natural mothers.  Women she knew who didn't bond right away with their babies.  How strange that was for her.  Maybe it was.  But when my son was born, although I did feel love and concern for him, I know that I didn't have an instant bond.  Maybe it was because I'd just gone through emergency surgery, or that I was drugged up, or that I'd almost died.  Maybe it was because I'd been awake for over 24 hours.  I don't know.  But I knew enough to not tell NM how I was feeling.  Late into the first night, after everyone was gone, I had sent the baby to the nursery to get some sleep (under NM's direct advice).  The nurse looked at me strangely, but wheeled the baby away.  I feel asleep for a few hours to awaken to the nurse wheeling my son back into the room.  He was crying and she claimed nothing they could do would calm him.  She handed him to me and he became quiet and calm.  It was at that moment, like a lightening bolt that I remember feeling strongly connected to him.  I felt a surge, a sudden "oh, my gosh, I'm his mom, he recognizes me."  That moment changed me forever.  But I couldn't tell NM about it.

When my second son came, I'll be honest, I had wanted a girl.  Not that I was disappointed with a boy.  I wasn't saddened by having a boy.  But I had hoped for a girl.  I had hoped for dresses and dance lessons and tea parties.  I knew that I, most likely, would not have any more kids and that this would be it.  I made the mistake of telling NM how I felt.  She chastised me and shamed me and told me how horrible I was for not appreciating the miracle I had in my healthy son.  Although I could see what she was saying, her criticism made me feel worse.  I couldn't stop the feelings I was having.  And as I saw it, I was perfectly capable of loving and wanting my son, while also grieving for the daughter that I would never have.  I tried to explain that to her.  That I just needed to mourn a path in life that would never be mine.  She never understood.  By this time, I had enough sense to know that her judgment didn't change my feelings and that grieving and mourning was the best thing I could do for myself (which I still believe) but she surely tried to make me feel like a horrible person. 

When I was little, my NM was probably a good mom.  I say probably, because from what I remember she was kind and caring.  She read to us and took us places.  I look happy in the pictures from when I was younger.  But as I turned 5, 8, 10 that started to fade away.  She became distant and bitter and mean.  She had a low tolerance for my imperfections (typical childish mistakes).  I don't remember her being particularly maternal then.  When I was ill, as I often was, she would buy me ice pops and make me tea.  But I don't remember her cuddling on the couch with me to comfort me.  In fact, I don't remember her comforting me much at all.  When I got fired from a babysitting job, she chastised me (although she recently told me some bullshit about how she came to my rescue).  When I hit puberty and tried to confide in her, she laughed at me and told me that it couldn't be.  I don't remember confiding in her about friends or boys or school troubles.  I always tried to make life "easier" for her, be perfect, do everything right.  I wanted her to be happy.  I don't remember her being particularly happy.  But from watching her with my kids, I imagine she was a bit better when I was little.  I know she coddled and rocked and sung to my little sister.  I know that she could be tender and kind.

I can see how it happened with her.  How things changed.  My own son is growing up now.  I have a very small toddler and a preschooler.  My toddler is little and chubby and hangs on my every word.  He loves me and adores me and is enthralled with me.  I can see how NM (and MIL) find that so intoxicating.  He doesn't question me or ignore me and loves me unconditionally.  My older son has developed a bit of an attitude.  He's been snarky and disrespectful and tests limits every chance he gets.  But he's trying to become independent.  It may be hard and annoying at times, but I don't love him any less.  I don't try less hard to be his mom.  I don't enjoy his company any less than that of my toddler.  I can already see NM starting to pull away from my older son.  He was her world for so many years.  Despite my best efforts to shield her off of him, she doted on him and obsessed about him and fawned over him.  But he's started to talk back a bit.  He's started to tell her no.  He's not little and cute and cuddly (but he is handsome and strong and still cute).  And so he gets less attention.  She's snarkier to him.  She doesn't like him standing up for himself and sees it as rude and disrespectful.  He recently told her to back off of acting like his mother.  This did not go over well.  And although he was probably a touch disrespectful in tone, I let it go (although we discussed better ways to say it later) and let him say his piece.  It obviously had been building for awhile.  So, although I do get what an intoxicating drug a small, cuddly toddler is, I don't get how you pull away from your kid when they get older.

As I got older, her fuse got shorter with me.  Everything was fine when I let her dress me, and control me, and do as she said.  Smarting off was not an option.  I don't remember my mother telling me I was pretty.  She did tell me I looked nice (as in, my clothes, that she picked out, looked good on me).  I don't remember her asking about school or music class.  I remember her making fun of me a lot.  Teasing me.  I don't remember her consoling me.  I do remember her embarrassing me.  I don't remember a lot of hugs.  I do remember her always having other things to do.  When I became a teenager, she backed off further.  She started an affair with my step dad and his family consumed her for years.  She bought me prom dresses and took pictures and threw a graduation party and attended my drama productions.  But she didn't help with homework, or ask about my friends.  She didn't seem to care when I hardly came home at night during my senior year (I "lived" -read crashed on their couch- with my boyfriend's parents most weekday evenings so that I could keep my job and attend after school events.)  She recently told me she was telling a coworker to wait until her girls hit the teenage years and how "hard" it was. I wonder what the fuck she was talking about.  How could I have been difficult?  I never drank, I didn't sneak out, and I was rarely home.

A lady I talked to recently told me that she "wasn't a good mom to babies."  That, when her kids were little she didn't know what to do with them.  That she was a better mom when the kids grew older.  My NM, and my MIL, seem to be better moms when their kids were little.  I've heard many moms say that they preferred, or were better moms, at one age or another.  Is that normal?  Is it OK to admit you were a shitty mom to your infants?  Is that just acknowledging reality?  I mean, we all fail as mothers at one point or another.  We all have strengths and weaknesses.  But is it OK to not be as good at raising infants as teenagers.  It makes sense to me.  I know lots of women who have no clue what to do with babies.  Even their own.  They don't understand the cognitive or developmental skills of babies and little kids.  They have expectations the kids will act more like little adults.  It makes sense that some women (and men) would struggle with this.  I mean, few parents take classes in child development (although I wish they would).  But is that "OK"?  Where is the line between admitting weaknesses and excusing shitty parenting?

I imagine lots of women would refer to me as a "natural mother".  I get kids.  I studied them in school.  I've always worked with them.  I understand them and they gravitate towards me.  When I worked for a neurologist administering neuropsych evaluations, my coworkers gave me all of the children patients.  I was better at putting kids at ease.  I could get cooperation out of them better than my coworkers.  I'm the lady at the park or the kids group that all of the other kids gravitate to.  Not because I'm organizing activities or really doing anything special.  I imagine it's because they see an adult who is willing to pay them attention.  That I see them. 

When I was in high school a friend told me she imagined I'd be a soccer mom driving the van pool.  I was disgusted, as this offended my feminist sensibilities at the time.  I was going to have a career.  But here I am, a stay at home mom.  I wonder what in the hell she saw in me that clued her in. 

And the thing is, I may have good natural instincts, but I'm not always a good mom.  That is the hardest thing for me as an ACoN, to see the effects it has on my kids.  I don't always no what to do.  I can get overwhelmed.  When I'm tired and cranky and sick of fighting with the narcs, I get irritable.  I don't have a support network of friends or grandparents to give me relief.  I do it all on my own.  I learned mothering by mothering my sister and gathering tidbits from my grandmother and aunts and (even) NM (despite her shit job of parenting, she didn't suck at everything, so I try not to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak).  I trust my gut and read books.  I go to bed every night going over what I can do better tomorrow.  And I try my damnedest.  And I fail at times.

I wonder what kind of mother I'd be if I didn't have this legacy.  If I didn't have a mother who acted more like an older sister than my mother.  If I didn't have to fight and struggle.  Do all parents struggle this much?  Do all parents work this hard?  The answers really wouldn't make much of a difference.  Because I guess in the end, I've got to just keep moving forward.  Because these kids need better.  They need better.  I just wish I could heal and fix things a little bit faster for them.  I wish I could be better for them.  I don't want my fucked-upness to get in the way of them having a good mom and a great childhood.

Angry

I'm angry again.  I'm angry with my FOO and I have no where to put it.  If I call them out on their shit, there will, at best, be no resolution.  At worst, I will get a full on assault for being a horrible, uncaring sister who isn't their for her family.  I'm angry that no one has decided to call me and give me the truth about what is going on with my sister.  I've gotten lots of contradictions and half truths.  I've gotten lots of excuses.  I've been heaped upon by NM with mountains of guilt.  Guilt for not being there for my sister.  Guilt for not being there for my mother.  Guilt for not wallowing in theses new found predicaments.  For not crawling in the hole with them and cursing god.  For continuing to live my life.  Guilt for having a life, when poor sister is so deprived, and a lone, and not blessed with the "fortunate life" that I have.

I'm angry that when I'm supposed to be celebrating my son, when the focus should be on this precious child, they are determined to steal the attention back from him.  That, even if all they've claimed is true, they couldn't lay it aside for this child.   I'm angry that they are coming at me with both barrels blazing.  That they are ready to take me out for my trespasses, and the collateral damage of my child concerns them not at all.  That they are willing to use a weekend set aside for my child, to demand the attention for my sister.  To try and make HER the center of attention.  To want to create a place of refuge for HER, at my home, on a weekend reserved for my child, so that my sister can feel better.

I am so tired of all of this.  I knew things had been too quiet.  I'd been allowed to much free space to roam.  But I never, ever, suspected that this would be the result.  I never suspected that I'd be put in such a position that there is absolutely no way for me to win.  That I'm, once again, cast in the role of horrible sister/daughter.  Blamed for all and focus of all negative emotion.

Sometimes things are so bad, that I don't even know where to begin to draw boundaries.  They've trampled on me and stomped on my life so much and I'm so far in a hole, I don't even know how to start.  I don't know how to not be in the place that I am anymore.  They have instilled so much fear and guilt and chaos in my life that I don't know how to move beyond it.

I want to live a life that doesn't exist in the extremes of emotion.  I want to live a life that allows to be happy in the little things.  I don't want to live in chaos.  I don't want to be so swallowed by them, that there is nothing left for my kids and husband.  I want to just be fucking normal.  I want my kids to have a loving aunt and a grandmother that sees them as magical.  I want to stop being sucked dry.  I want to stop being saddled with their every burden.  I want to stop wearing their problems.  I want to be me, not the person they need me to be.  I want to be healthy and at peace.  I want to quit living in this goddamned soap opera. I just don't know how to get of the ride exactly.

All of there shit is piled on top of my own shit.  Financial issues.  Health issues.  Marriage issues.  Nothing horrible, but things I'm working through.  Things that I've done a damn good job of putting into perspective and dealing with in small bites.   Remaining positive and trying to see that things will work out how they are supposed to.  I've done well finding some health in my own life.  But I can feel them clawing at me.  Pulling me down, draining me.  They are locked in a pit and their fingers rake and claw and pull me down, down, down.  And in those moments (or lately days), it's hard not to let my own life crash down on top of me too.   When all my energy is being sucked out by them, I have little left for myself.  Or my kids.  Or my husband.

And so I'm here and angry.  Angry for me.  But really angry that they are sucking away from my little boy.  Stealing his limelight.  Stealing his mother's attention from him.  Stealing his chance to shine and celebrate his life.  And I'm angry that I am struggling to stop it.  That I just may be the coward that is allowing them to do it to them.

Horrible Days and Being a Good Parent

It has been a tough few days for me.  I am feeling so overwhelmed, anxious, lonely and sad.  I am angry and don't know how to direct my anger.  I know that my little hiatus from my in-laws and NM is shortly coming to an end.  I don't feel strong enough to deal with them.  I really just want to sleep, and stare at the sunset with a glass of wine, and hide away.
But I can't, because I'm a mom.  It's been a rough couple days with my kiddos too.  They've been sick, not slept well, and have been cranky.  My youngest is teething.  My oldest is testing all my limits at an attempt at independence.  All of these things would be difficult for the most healthy of parents.
But as an ACON, I struggle with parenting.  I struggle to find that balance.  I don't even really know what 'good parenting' looks like.  Where to draw the boundaries between myself and my kids.  I have good 'parenting strategies'.  I've read lots of books.  I've been a teacher.  But on the days that I'm just at my limit, I struggle.  I struggle with the choices I make (or don't make).  I struggle with the line between being an involved parent and protecting them too much.  I struggle with finding the time for myself and not feeling like I'm abandoning them and making it all about me.  My 3 year old is really struggling with respect.  He has been pushing every button: name calling, spitting, hitting, tantrums, defiance.  I struggle to teach him respect for me and for our home.  How do I do this without demanding it "because I'm his mom"?  Even explaining the concept of respect is hard.  I don't want him to do things because I tell him to...but sometimes (like not running in the parking lot) he does need to follow my instructions immediately.  He's really been pushing and doing things that are dangerous.  And in the moment, it's hard to not just yell "because I said so" when I'm terrified for him (or the cat, or his brother).  I want him to respect me as the parent in this home, but I don't want to crush his spirit and be some dictator.  But I do need to be in charge.  It's all just so confusing and gut wrenching and tear producing.  It's all so extremely difficult.

Hope for the Best, but Have No Expectations

A friend of mine from high school was published in a national, high profile magazine.  He described in the essay a lifetime of homelessness, uncertainty, parental neglect, and instability.  My heart broke for the young him.  In comparison, my childhood seemed so much less horrible.  In one line he wrote of his father that he learned to hope for the best, but have no expectations.  And I realized, in some ways,  we were like two sides of the same coin.  We both had hope of something different, or normalcy, but really had no expectations that it would happen.
My sister missed my son's first birthday.  She didn't call, she didn't text.  She sent no email, no gifts, no cards.  She didn't acknowledge it at all.  This wasn't particularly surprising.  She has "missed" most of my children's (and my) big moments.  She often expresses how busy, broke, or preoccupied she is and that she will send something soon.  I think she's only sent gifts at Christmas or for birthdays about half the time (and almost always late). It's not the gift that I'm concerned about.  If she really was broke, I'd more than understand.  But during these times that she was too distressed to buy us gifts, I've listened to endless phone calls as she shops around for some random person in her life.  She stresses and over thinks and talks endlessly (as I was forced to listen to her shop on the phone) about what she should get her boss or current boyfriend or whomever (and always expensive gifts).  All the while, telling me that she couldn't get us anything.  And when she has acknowledged me or my kids, there are another million phone calls during which she complains endlessly that she can't find us anything.  Then the gifts arrive.  Too many gifts.  And then for a month afterward she complains about how she couldn't afford the gifts in the first place.  So, whether she gets us something or not, it is a pain in the ass.
Anyway, she completely ignored this milestone. (Not to mention my husband's birthday, which she never acknowledges).  All I wish is that she would call or text or just acknowledge that it happened.  She called about five days later.  I was too exhausted and sick (literally) to deal with it.  Today, she called twice.  I figured I couldn't put it off any longer and knew it would be a loose-loose situation for me.  I was ready for an assault.  I was ready for her to rage that I didn't understand how difficult her life was and how dare I expect her to acknowledge anything when things are so bad with her.  Or, she could have taken another tactic:  say she's so sorry, almost demand my forgiveness and understanding, and again complain that life is so difficult that she couldn't think of us.
What I didn't expect was for her not to say anything.  She didn't bring it up.  She didn't apologize, talk about it, or otherwise say anything.  She talked about moving in with her boyfriend, some random manager at her boyfriend's bar, her parking spot, and a million other trivial things.  She never mentioned it at all.  There were a couple lobbed remarks about what she was going through.  I finally tried to excuse myself from the conversation.  Her response was to finally ask "Are you OK?  Is everything alright with you?"  Not that she wanted the answer.  I brushed her off.  What would be the point in actually telling her? It would make no difference and only embroil me in argument I couldn't win.
But then the conversation changed.  She brought up my parents, the divorce, how moving in with her boyfriend was bring up a bunch of abandonment issues.  How freaked out she was.  And to be honest, I feel for her.  I know, only too personally, what our childhood did to us.  I offered some advice.  I suggested she find a therapist to help her express and validate her feelings.  I told her that if this boyfriend was as important as she claimed, she owed it to him to figure out was going on.  Will it help her?  Who knows?  It's such a difficult feeling.  I feel like she's drowning in the same sea that I'm attempting to escape.  How can I not throw her a lifeline?  If only I knew she actually wanted the lifeline and wasn't going to drag me rigth back in.  I do feel for her.  But it's depressing that she doesn't see that I'm struggling in the exact same ways.  I don't have anyone to call for the moral support she is so desperate to get from me.
I thought after the conversation that I'd be more upset and sad.  I really don't feel anything.  Not in a 'I've closed myself off from that and am choosing not to feel' way.  In fact, I gave myself permission to be mad, or sad, or angry.  But I just didn't feel that way.  I thought maybe I'm just hoping for the best, but expecting nothing.  But in the end, I don't even feel I have any hope left.  Our relationship is like a person I've been giving CPR to for our entire life.  I've been doing all the work for both of us.  Breathing in and out, giving and giving, taking nothing back, and hoping desperately for life to flow.  Maybe it's time I quit the CPR.  Maybe it's time I let it go.  Maybe it's time I realize I've done everything I can and I need to just walk away and let the paramedics take over.

Unanswered Prayers

So, I've been praying a lot for God to guide me and give me strength.  He has answered me in so many ways.  Provided opportunities that have moved my healing along.  Provided insights that have made me more whole again.  But last night, he provided a crazy situation for me.

I have avoided leaving my children with my mother and MIL.  In fact, I haven't really had a babysitter period because I have not known how to rationalize this to the "grandmothers" and have hid behind my breastfeeding as an excuse.  But yesterday, my favorite band announced a concert and it is not something I can not go to.

First and foremost, my husband needs me.  We desperately need some time to just be the two of us.  This band is very important to us (as crazy as that sounds) and we need this time to just be us again.  Everything else we've had has been corrupted by our families and we need this time.  Not to mention, that in five years, I have not taken ONE day off from being a mom.  Not one.  I really think, no, I know, that my kids and I deserve to have a time where we are without each other to regroup.  My kids need some time away from me.  They need to know, that just because I'm not there, they will  be alright.

And in fact, I have left my oldest son.  He has been going to school two mornings a week for a year now.  Sad that I feel safe leaving my son with near strangers but the thought of leaving him with my MIL and Mom sends my anxiety racing.  And if I could somehow figure to NOT use the "moms" I would (I know this will be a suggestion, but I feel somehow, I will need to find a way to allow my kids alone time with their grandmothers).  I plan on finding a more consistent babysitter in my town.  But sometimes, it will require a grandmother.

Here's the reality,  I generally think my kids would be OK with the grandmas.  Ok, one grandma makes me extremely nervous.  She will, most likely, never be allowed to drive my small children, spend a lot of time with my small children, or watch them outside of my home (which is baby proofed, and should provide some cushion.)  She is a space cadet.  She would "tick off the boxes" (to use a good phrase from blogger, Kara) of childcare.  They wouldn't starve.  Eventually,  they will make it to sleep.  I think they will be OK.   But they will be overtired.  She will miss all emotional cues.  She will not be sympathetic when they are sad.  She will try to fix it or distract it and move on.  She will miss the small signs of my shy, independent boy.  She will  not know how to provide and emotional stability.  The other grandma will subtly undermine by sweet boy.  Not often, not intentionally, but she will somehow shame him in a sick game that suggests the shame she feels.  She probably will be short with him.  He will annoy her.

And I wrestle with it all.  Am I being a hypocrite for allowing women who have treated me so poorly access to my kids alone?  Will they damage my boys in the same way they've damaged me?  Or will an hour here, an hour there, teach them that some people are just ridiculous and that their parents unconditional love will carry through.  I can't bubble wrap them from every nasty person.  But what effect does a nasty (if not overtly, but subtly abusive) person do to them?  I don't believe my narcissistic grandmother changed me...but she really had limited access to me.  No contact is not an option.  Chaining my kids to me is not an option.  I need a release.  I need some time away.  But my guilt at not being there for my boys eats at me.  I trust them to deal with occasional disappointment, I think some less than positive feelings for them gives them character and resilience.  But where is the line?  Do these women deserve this?  It is eating me alive.

And as I wrote this, my mother called and left a voice mail.  She had heard about the concert (how in the world she found out this obscure piece of information, when she is SOOO busy at work, unnerves me) and called all hyped up...giddy even.  "I'm calling to see if you need a babysitter for XYZ.  I heard about it and wanted to see if you need a babysitter!!!!" .  What an innocent call from anyone else.  But all I can think is ick.  She is so giddy that she knows this is an opportunity that she has an advantage over me.  The news isn't five hours old and she's on the phone pushing.  Will my kids be all right for the hour and a half she has them?  (And the real sticking point is that she is putting them to bed.)  Probably so.  But what if?  Am I neurotic?  Am I hypocritical?  Does admitting your folks are so horrible, and not doing everything to protect MY family from them, make me horrible?

"You're a good mom"

My mother sent me an email today asking about my kids and I, who have come down with an illness.  She almost seems to enjoy when we get sick, as it gives her an excuse to call, text, and email.
Anyway, at the bottom, she said "had a great weekend!  You are a good mom."  Just like that, sort of tacked onto the end of the email like a salutation.  Now, normally, this would be a nice comment to hear from someone.  Normally, seeing this written wouldn't make me annoyed.  But when it comes from my mother, it means next to nothing to me and it reeks of saccharine phoniness.   I don't even know if she's serious.  I'm not sure what it is she's referring to that makes her think I'm a good mom.  I don't know if she's saying it to gain some sort of favor with me.  It's possible she's saying it just to make herself look good.  I'm sure that somehow she feels SHE needs to validate my mothering for me to feel good about myself.  In fact, it's this last truth that bothers me the most.  Do I appreciate validation from others?  Yes.  Do I need it?  Hell no.  Especially not from her.  It annoys me because somehow, I sense she believes I think I am not a good mother.  Funny how such a small statement, one that would be a compliment on the tongue of anyone else, is such a loaded, barbed statement with her.

Narcissistic Hangover

Well, I survived the weekend with my NMom and NMIL.  The birthday party went well (which isn't really the right word, but I believe that I honored my son as best I could).  By Saturday afternoon, my older son and I were both sick though, and I'm sure it was that the adrenaline finally released and my body gave up.  Luckily, this encouraged NMom to go home.  No fun for her with us all being sick.

At first, as I looked back on the weekend, I felt confused.  I hadn't felt the overwhelming anxiety.  I hadn't had the pit in my stomach and heart pounding I usually had.  I hadn't felt strung out.  And this lack of feeling anxiety caused me anxiety.  Maybe I had been wrong.  Maybe they weren't the narcs I had thought them to be.  I felt back at square one.  The problem actually was me.  They were fine, I was oversensitive.  All these light bulb moments, all these revelations, all these answers I had seemed to find seemed void.  Maybe if I had just been nice all these years, let things go, not stressed so much, things would be fine.  I felt sick again.

So, I re-examined the weekend.  Yes, there had been no blow-ups.  My anger and annoyance hadn't bubbled up at my mom and MIL.  I hadn't feel the extreme helplessness I usually feel.  But was that because they hadn't been their narcissistic selves?  Nope, they had launched narc attacks at me all weekend.

My MIL had started out the morning by compounding my stress and making things difficult.  This was to be a small, intimate party to celebrate my son's first birthday.  A milestone, a big birthday, something important.  She calls two hours before the party and "asks" my husband if it'll be alright if her Uncle stops by.  He's travelling up from another state and wants to visit and she's asked him to come by.  Now, this is not a close relative.  This is not someone I have met more than once in my 14 year relationship with my husband.  He could not tell you my name, nor do I think he even knows we have a son.  Technically he is "family", but very distant family.  But he had called her and wanted to visit HER.  And instead of saying "oh, I'm sorry, we'd love to visit, but today isn't going to work for us"  she invites him to our house.  I felt it to be extremely rude.  I felt that she was taking focus away from my son.  This was a milestone birthday.  Something special.  Time to focus on celebrating this child.   We didn't have time to have a family reunion.  We didn't have time to entertain virtual strangers.  We didn't have time to give them a tour of our home, which she kept hinting at.  (And by the way, every conversation she had with these people was her bragging about OUR home.  She gave all these details.  She discussed every design choice.  She revealed in the glory of what WE had.)  And she gave us no choice.  She gave us no option.  She 'asked' if it would be OK, but did we really have a choice of how to respond?  When the "party crashers" (as they called themselves, loudly announcing as they came into the room) showed up, she ignored them.   My SIL had to push her to go greet them.  She then made a big deal out of them and proceeded to introduce them to all of HER family.  HER grandkids, HER sons.  I had to introduce my self.  My stepfather introduced himself.  It was uncomfortable for everyone.  But I let it not bother me.  They were HER guests, so she could entertain them and I didn't feel one ounce of guilt as they sat around staring.  Not my problem.  This was about my son.  Too bad that the woman who claims her grandkids mean so much to her couldn't see that.  After the party was well over with and I had cleaned up much of the food and party stuff, my MIL wanders over and offers to help clean up.  Really?  Now?  You didn't offer any help as I ran around putting on the whole party myself.  "It's done."  I said.  She blinked at me.  "Well,  I could help."  Well, it was done, I stated again.  And besides, they were wheeling her very elderly MIL out the door to put her in the car.  What was her MIL to do why she cleaned up?  Sit in the car like a dog?  Again, MIL"s  trying to look like the good guy while sacrificing everyone else.  She then says "Well, sorry about my uncle stopping by.  He called and...." and she trails off in a big phony laugh.  "And what?"  I wanted to scream.  First of all the uncle didn't just stop by.  YOU invited him.  But you don't seem to take any responsibility for that.  There is no "I"m sorry if that inconvenienced you."  No true apology or consideration for me, my husband, or my son.  She didn't even offer up a valid reason as to why she invited him.  She just laughed.  And although I got angry for a bit the next night, it didn't consume me.  In fact, just the fact that I allowed myself to be angry about it was big.  To say that what she did was wrong, was a HUGE step for me.  To not feel guilty and play hostess and fix problems she created was big.  I only wish I'd told her that what she did was rude and disrespectful.

My mom was a bit more restrained.  She knew that she was on shaky ground with me.  She watched herself.  As she is such a textbook narcissist, it is interesting to watch how well she can hide it.  But there were signs.  She shows my sons tons of toys on her computer.  And then she criticizes him for wanting all of it.  "Don't you think you have enough toys?  Shouldn't we be happy just to spend time together?"  To watch her set up my three year old like that sinks my heart.  She lays out the toys and then tells him he shouldn't want any.   And this is the same woman who brings down the whole toy store every time she comes.  She plies my kids with materialistic things and then whines that they don't appreciate her for her but rather what she brings.   "I wonder what your mom thinks of that?"  She asks my son, implying that she finds it interesting that I would condone such greed.  A little jab at my parenting.  But I don't bite.  "He's three, mom.  That's what 3 year olds do."  And in fact, he's actually a very thoughtful and conscientious kid.

She makes a big deal out of always trying to get the kids to come to her when they are with their dad.  Trying to prove they like her and want to be around her more.  She makes a big show as my in-laws leave, proclaiming she's going with them, and getting my son to get worked up stating "you can't go."  She's trying to throw it in MIL's face that my son wants her to stay but doesn't care MIL is leaving.  This was something I actually found funny.  Well, not funny, but very interesting to watch.  My MIL does this to me all the time.  Letting the two narcs duel it out was easier than dealing with it myself.

Mom made a big deal about how I was doing all the work for the party.  But she really didn't offer to help.  In fact, she kept trying to distract me with conversation.  At least, she wasn't constantly rearranging my decorations like she usually does.

I accidentally caught my son's ear while combing his hair.  He told me not to do it again.  I apologized and tried to be more carefully.  My mom snapped "And SHE used to complain that I braided her hair too hard." Well, not exactly the same thing.  She did braid my hair tightly and never cared that it hurt and in fact did it on purpose. It had to be tight or it wouldn't stay put, she claimed.  And god forbid she have to re-braid my hair.  And never mind the fact I didn't want my hair in braids in the first place.   The fact that she couldn't see how my accidentally combing my son's ear was a completely different situation is beyond me.  How she couldn't resist the zinger was annoying.  But I didn't take the bait.

She had snarky remarks to my step dad (taking the opportunity to take him down a peg while she had an audience), she gossiped about his kids, and the more she drank, the nastier she got.  The more the masked slipped.  But I tuned her out.  There were a million little things, but none of them bothered me like they used to.  I actually could see her as a very pathetic, lonely, sad person with nothing of value or substance in her life.  But that is her problem, not mine.

In the end, after much introspection yesterday, I realized that, no, they are still the same old narcs they always were.  I was the one who had changed.  I am becoming different.  The cloud of depression and anger and inner rage is leaving.  I feel some level of peace.   I don't have to rise to their bait.  I don't have to take their crap.   I don't have to react to them at all.  Did some of it hurt?  Yes.  Do I worry about my children?  Yes.  In fact, this is my biggest struggle still.  But I don't feel I'm under their spell.  I don't feel their power of me.  They can do what they want and I don't feel the guilt of not responding how I "should".  Well, mostly.  It's a work in progress.  I'm a work in progress.  I know it'll be two steps forward and one step back.  But I'm done letting them have so much control and power in my life.  And I am not the problem.

My Father

I've put off writing about my father for a long time.  I really struggled with what  I would say and how.  Not because I was worried I would say the wrong thing, but because it is so difficult to really paint him with a clear stroke.
My dad suffered some unspeakable abuse as a small child.  I know little about the actual abuse, other than it scarred him for life.  He will forever be an angry, controlling, nitpicky, sweet, soft, vulnerable person.
When I was a child, he was a very scary man.  He was distant and stoic and I rarely saw him smile.  He was strict and rigid and, while I don't believe physically abusive, very harsh disciplinarian.  There was a right way and a wrong way to do things and you lived in fear of doing the wrong thing.  He was so angry.  He was depressed.  I know I enjoyed my dad at times. I have a lot of good memories.   But I never felt he was my protector.  I never felt close to him. We never connected, despite that I was continually "partnered" with him, as my sister and mother were always together.  He expected perfection in everything always.  In many ways he set me up for my abuse from my mom.  He very clearly laid it out that love was conditional on meeting his expectations. He always expected my sister and I to abdicate our feelings/wants/needs if it meant pleasing someone else.   He was so harsh that my mother seemed like a port in the storm, all the while she was poisoning us in another way.   I was not his princess or his little girl.  I remember calling him "daddy" once because I'd heard other girls refer to their dads that way.  I got an earful of angry insults and criticism.  He was not my "daddy".
When my parents divorced, he became a broken, shell of a man.  It was frightening actually.  To see someone who I viewed as so powerful, so stoic, turn into a blithering mess.  It was a rough couple of years for him.  At one point, I quit living with my mom and moved in with him.  He got on antidepressants.  He changed somewhat.
We've become closer over the years.  While my dad can have some extremely narcissistic traits, he has become less so.  I am no longer afraid to express my opinion.  He is interested in my life (although he often is so consumed by his depression, that I don't come on his radar) if I call.  He is (mostly) supportive.  And I think the most important thing, he will recognize when he is wrong.  I have received several genuine apologies from him.  But he still can be stubborn, and one sided, and it can be difficult to approach him with alternate opinions (but it can be done).  He still sometimes I insist that I abdicate my feelings for someone else just for the sake of doing it.  But sometimes he stands up for me.  I can call him and tell him about my bad day and he will be suppportive.  He's got a soft spot and is sensitive, but you have to brake through a pretty hard shell to reach it.
I don't know, it all almost sounds silly when I write it.  He is a very disturbing dichotomy of two opposites.  Sometimes the old, harsh dad I feared.  Sometimes I worry about displeasing him so much that I literally get sick.  Sometimes he is the new, mellow Dad whom I can talk to and relate to and feel good after spending time with him.  Sometimes he is not.  And the best part is, he is the least of three evils in my FOO.

Birthday Drama

The subtitles of my mothers manipulations are finally coming to light for me and I'm finally allowing my self to not feel guilty for not playing into her games.  It's amazing to me how subversive it is.  How for so long, I knew something wasn't right but could never put my finger on it.
Since Easter, I've used my family being continually sick to help buffer me from my mother.  It's made it easy to excuse why I don't call, or haven't been available to chat.  But with my son's birthday coming up, I knew that I'd better ease back into things.  I knew that she was seething and resentful.  But all that was left behind when i called.  Since then, things are back to "normal".  I've been baraged by texts, phone calls, and emails.  In any given day, I have received one to ten communications.  Usually they are ridiculous things, used as bait to demand attention from her.
One of her favorite manipulation games centers around gifts.  She loves to give gifts.  Extravagant, expensive gifts.   Gifts that no one ever appreciates enough, or thanks her for enough, or loves her enough for.  Short of falling down and kissing her feet, our reaction to these gifts is never sufficient...and even then I doubt that'd be enough.  Anyway, TWO months ago, she emailed that she wanted ideas for my son's birthday.  She wanted to "get it out of the way".  She badgered me for ideas.  She wants a large list of ideas that she can then choose from.  She doesn't consider that I also have to provide ideas for other family members.  She doesn't consider that I don't have time to sit around coming up with magical lists that include items of all price ranges and styles.  At Christmas, I provided such a list.  When she saw my son, she whipped out a toy catalogue, had him pick from that and then bought him the crap he selected despite the fact that he already had the same toy at home.  So much for all my hard work making the damn list.  So, I told her that I would give her a few ideas, but there were only a few things that my son really needed (as we have a million toys already) and I didn't want to provide an endless list because, really, these few items would be the best.  I also suggested that she let me know as soon as possible what she'd selected so that I could pass the list on to the others.  This upset her.  I'm only supposed to provide ideas to HER.  (And as a side note, I provide all these ideas and then she acts like she's the best grandmother ever for providing such a PERFECT gift.  My MIL does this too.  I don't mind not getting credit, but the endless gloating about how wonderful they are really gets under my skin.  If it's the thought that counts, and they contribute no thought, then does it count?)  She emailed me and texted me and pondered over the list for two months.  She sent emails saying "next week, I'll select a gift, so you can pass it on".  Next week came and went.  She just loved having the control, holding it over me.  How do I know she wasn't just busy, just forgot?  Because she never is busy.  And this happens EVERY, SING:LE time there is a gift giving occasion.    So, she selected one gift.  I told her that was great.  Nope, not good enough.  She wanted to select another gift.  That took another month.  Then there is the barage of texts asking if it has been delivered.  I'm just worried it got lost, she'll text.  I see it was delivered, but you didn't let me know, she'll email.  Did it really get there? And even when I do email her that things arrive, she claims to not have seen those emails.   AAAHHHH!  Finally, I thought we were finished with the whole ordeal.  But now she wants MORE ideas.  For little gifts, special gifts she can get him.  Well, if it's supposed to be special, shouldn't she come up with the idea?  I tell her she has spent too much as it is (and for all her annoyance that I don't appreciate the gifts enough, it annoys her more that I reject her desire to spend too much.   This denies her the chance to be the hero/martyr and how dare I rob her of this opportunity).  Regardless, I have no more ideas for her.  I've given them all.  She emails me a suggestion that is more appropriate for my other son.  I suggest not to get this gift and that she's gotten plenty already.  So, last night, I get a voice mail.  "Hi, I was just calling to see if you had other ideas for (son's) birthday.  I just wanted to get him something he'd like, or something you didn't already have.  But I guess I'll just pick something up...I guess I'll just hope whatever I get works out...."  Can you feel the guilt dripping from her message?  All of this over a young child's birthday gift.  Nothing is given without a price.

Broken

I just had a really bad evening with my in-laws.  I'm sure that I'm being discussed at this very moment.  That I am crazy.  They're all wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
As background, my in-laws all run on their own schedule.  My MIL and FIL have been here every weekend, expecting to just drop by at their convenience, for the past month.  And then every other weekend before that. They show up whenever they want and expect us to present the grandchildren so that they can have their little moments.  They are very different from the type of person I am.  We just have never clicked.  Not they are not nice people, they are just inconsiderate people.  They do little to predict or understand how their actions might effect someone else.
The short story is that they wanted everyone to get together tonight (us and husband's brother's family).  They don't make plans.  They just expect things to fall together.  When we arrive at the restaurant their is a 45 minute wait.  I have a baby.  I knew that things weren't going to go well from there.  Over an hour later we are still waiting for a table.  My MIL tells my 3 year old that she has a gift in the car.  Not for him now, but in the car.  And she expects him to wait for it.  She and my FIL think it's so funny how he politely asks to go out and get it (but don't actually get it).  They come over and tell me stories about my son to ME as if I don't know him at all.  They don't get that I'm getting agitated knowing that at any moment, my son is going to turn into a cranky mess.   We sit down, and there is some grousing on MIL's part because she can't sit in the middle of the table.  We all have small kids we need to attend to, but she can't be center of attention, and is annoyed.  We finally arrange the seating at the table, quickly order some food for the kids and an appetizer for hubby and me (while everyone else waits to eat, making my poor niece and nephew wait the whole time).  When the food comes, my MIL starts doling out food from one person's plate to the other.  This is a thing with her.  That everyone "share" whether they wanted to or not.  This irritates me to no end.  I know that it's not that big of a deal, but to me, it is such a boundary violation.  Who does she think she is, that she gets to determine who gets what food and how much?  She's grabbing my son's food, giving it to my niece (not that I mind him sharing, in fact, I encourage it) but she doesn't even wait to see if my niece asks for it.  She just hands food around.  And then starts sneaking her own bits of food off his plate.   Again, I know this seems small.  But it is a repeated thing where she will help herself to my son's food instead of getting her own.  It's not about the food to her.  It's about some weird "connection" she feels by crossing those boundaries and all being "one" that irritates me.  She used to do this with me before my kids came along.  I always left family meals hungry, as everyone else "helped" me finish food after they gulped down their own.  It's a touchy subject with me.  Not about the food, but the sense of feeling violated.  No one cared if I was hungry, or what I wanted, just about what they wanted.  MIL throws out (rather screams across the table) how great the card  I sent her for Mother's Day was.  She quickly sent me an email card this morning after mine arrived in the mail.  (Is it the thought that counts?  What if there is no thought?).  I doubt her sincerity as well, it just doesn't seem sincere.  My FIL loudly goes on about what my son knows of letters, although when I try to tell him what else my son can do, he ignores me.  MIL makes pointed comments to my son about how good he is "sharing".  My temperature is through the roof.  My SIL starts suggesting that hubby and I need a night out (which we do) but I find the timing weird.  She also suggests a girl's night, yet has been cold and reserved and on her phone all night.  I am slowly getting swallowed by my anxiety.  I feel pressure everywhere.  Tension.  And it is probably my fault.  My SIL and BIL leave their kids all the time with the in-laws.  I'm too afraid too (she's a space cadet).  They have a date night tomorrow.  My MIL has watched the kids all day and will watch them tomorrow.  They are one, big, chummy family, and I'm the bitch that keeps my husband and kids from being that too.
We finally get up to leave, leaving everyone else to their meals that haven't arrived.  But my infant is clawing at my head he is so tired.  My in-laws finally ask to take my older son to get their gift from the car.  I say yes, hold his hand (they act like this is a given, but with them, it is NOT) in the crazy parking lot, and to please hurry.  We wait for them.  Then they saunter in checking out cars.  Then, my FIL suggests he needs to "stop by" to see my son play baseball.  Again with the drop-ins.  Again, no regard for what we have going on.  Drop everything to see us, they push.  I am boiling by this point.  Then, they want to talk about my other son's birthday party.  They just can't seem to get the point.  I jump in the car, turn the key, and instantly feel awful, but at the same time liberated.  They have pushed and pushed all night, but of course, I am the horrible, rude one.
My husband asks if I'm all right on the way home.  He means mentally.  No.  I'm not the fuck all right.  He suggests I need counseling.  Really?  No shit.  He suggests I'm very angry.  Hell yeah, I'm angry.  I'm so angry.  Angry at them all.  Angry at myself.  Tired of being taken advantage of.  Tired of no one thinking past their own selfish needs, past their own asses.  Tired of being bullied.  I should feel worse, but I don't.  Why can't I be angry sometimes?  Why can't I be annoyed?  Why should I just go along?  Why is thinking about my kid's well being such a crime?
I'm so tired of it all.  So lonely, so tired, so angry, so broken.

The Anxiety of Leaving my Children

People have been pushing me to leave my children with a babysitter almost since they were born.  In fact, before I was even pregnant my MIL (mother-in-law) used to say "I will watch the baby..." all the time.  Before I had kids, I never thought I'd have too much trouble with leaving my kids.  But I've found it far harder than I though, and for a variety of reasons.

As a disclaimer, I have left my kids.  I've left my son with my mother for a couple hours at a time on a few occasions (mainly when I had my second son).  I take Caleb to preschool two days a week.  I've left him with my SIL.  I just don't leave him often.  He is 3.  My baby, I've only left with my mom once for an hour.  Their dad stays with them a lot so I do get some time to myself.

But, you'd think I never left my kids.  Our friends constantly suggest we get a babysitter.  Mainly it is the friends without kids.  They don't understand that it's not that easy to just plop your kids (one of which is breastfeeding) and go out for the night.  Babysitters are expensive and the grandparents are an iffy option.  Our other friends have grandparents who are pretty much nannies.  They also don't get my concerns.  I feel so judged and pushed.

My mother, the narcissist, has watched my kids on occasion.  Never at night, but for a few hours here or there.  I can not trust her much longer.  She is really good for a few hours.  But then it starts to get on her nerves.  The novelty wears off and the kids get annoying.  She gets short with them.  She snaps.  She can be mean.  She orders them around pushing for control of them.   Even when she is here for an extended period of a few days, my older son gets testy and agitated until she leaves.  She makes everyone tense and on edge.   And then there is the price I pay after the fact.  When she takes the baby, she makes a big production of telling me that the baby didn't "need me".  She'll say to my son "See, you don't need your mom.  You did just fine without her.  You don't need her.  Tell her you don't need her."  And for those of you who have a narcissistic mother, I'm sure you can see what she is doing.  Divide and conquer.  Make herself look like she is just as good, if not better, than I am at taking care of my son.   It's good to know my son didn't have an awful time away from me.   But I don't think I need to be pushed away like that.  Then, there is always the martyr part of the babysitting.  As much as she pushes and pushes to babysit, after the fact, she'll complain how tired or exhausted she is.  Or how much we owe her (in appreciation) for babysitting.  Even when she is just here helping me with my kids (and I still do 90% of the work) she'll complain to my stepdad how exhausted she is.  (Which is funny, because if I say that taking care of the kids is a lot of work, she'll dismiss my feelings, telling me "well, you just do it.  When I had kids, I just got used to it.  It's not that much work if you do it everyday.  You should be used to it.").  She pushed my husband to leave one day and get out to do a hobby he loves.  She exclaimed how much she loves spending time with me and my kids.  Well, when he came back she snipped over and over about how, while HE was out having FUN, she took care of HIS kids all day.  Never mind, that I was there all day too.  You'd have thought she'd done it all by herself and he made her watch them.  Her babysitting is never free.  There is always a penalty.

My MIL is not much better.    She doesn't have the closest relationships with my sons.  She doesn't take a lot of time to get on the floor and play.  She doesn't ask them questions and really listen to them.  She spends a lot of time telling them how she feels about this or that.  It's hard to explain.  But her only conversations with them seem to be monologues about how she thinks or feels about them.  It sounds silly, I know, for me to say I get annoyed by her endless declarations of love.  But it's more than that.  It's just that every comment is related to her.  How she feels, what she thinks, what she likes.  It's never just "that's a nice shirt."  It's "GRANDMA likes your shirt."  "GRANDMA thinks your cute."    She just talks AT my kids, not to my kids.  And when she's not doing that, she's wrangling them on her lap, kissing them over and over, despite the fact that they want to get away.  It just seems she is always sucking energy and never giving anything back.  The kids are there to fulfill her needs for attention and gratification.

All of that I could tolerate, however, if I didn't have serious concerns about my kids safety in her care.  She is very scattered and unfocused.  She is very hyper and bounces around a lot.  She rushes through things in order to get them done, and often misses little details.  She has never watched my kids, but she does watch my niece and nephew.  Yes, nothing has ever happened to them.  But not for her lack of trying.  Here are a few of the things that happened that make me nervous:
*She can never figure out child car seats.  She has failed to buckle my niece into her seat correctly on so many occasions, I've lost count.   She has entrusted my FIL to buckle her in (who didn't know how to do it and had never received instruction) and didn't double check it so it remained loose.  She couldn't get her arms in once and had to have my husband do it.  She's just plain forgot to buckle her on a couple of occasions.
*We were at a swimming party when my niece was three.  We were all in the pool, but my SIL had put MIL specifically in charge of my niece.  I was holding my three month old when my niece fell under the water and and couldn't regain her feet.  I ran over and yanked her out of the pool.  My niece had been too far out for her height but had a "floaty" toy, so I guess MIL thought that was sufficient.  Now I understand accidents happen,  but what bothered me, is that it happened AGAIN, about 5 minutes later.  I again reached over and grabbed the sputtering child, trying desperately not to fall in myself with the baby.   I told MIL that she needed to be in the pool with her.  (She was sitting on the side).  She's fine, she argued.  This ticked me off.  She's not fine, she's three and someone needs to be in the pool with her!  Her uncle was right there, she snapped.  (This is a recurring idea with her.  She expects everyone else to be in charge with her.  That is a nice thought, but you can't count on someone else to look out for your kids.  They usually think someone else is watching and will walk away.  Hubby and I have a strict rule that we always have to make a point of saying out loud to each other who is in charge.  Then no one assumes the other is doing it and walks away, turns their back, etc.)  Anyway, she continued to argue with me, but finally stomped over and put a life jacket on her.  The whole incident left me shaken.  It's bad enough to let a toddler struggle underwater for any period of time, but then to argue it was fine, blew me away.
*She wanted to take my three year old on a carousel ride.  Not a kiddie carousel, but a big vintage one that goes very quickly.  He wanted to ride by himself, which is fine, as they have big seat belts, but after she got him buckled, she left him to go ride with my niece on the other side of the carousel.  She is always trying to be everything to all the kids at the same time, and consequently, often only is half focused on any one of them.  At the end of the ride, my son jumped off trying to get down.  There he dangled by the seat belt noosed around his armpits , feet a foot of the ground, as the ride still turned.  He was unhurt, but it was a miracle he hadn't choked himself, or hung off the other side where the gears and mechanisms are.
*She has put my niece to sleep on a half blown up air mattress when she was an infant.  She has fed her choking hazards.  She let my six month old suck on her metallic jewelry, paying no mind to the fact that it could pose a choking hazard and frankly is not a chew toy.  When hubby told her to not let her, she said "oh, he can't hurt my necklace".  The fricking necklace was the least of my concerns.  She was so busy with three kids on her lap, she didn't notice my four month old grabbing food off adults plates and trying to eat it.  She argued with my FIL that my 12 month old didn't need a seatbelt on a wagon ride.  Why would you NOT buckle him in, just to be safe?  She has not buckled my niece into a highchair and then turned her back.  My niece leaned way over to grab something and almost fell out.  One night, we went out to dinner and she could barely keep her eyes open she was so tired.  She decided to order a double beer (very tall glass) when she was driving my niece home.
*Hubby's family has loved filling me in on various crazy stories from their child hood.  She was driving the neighbor to school when he was 5, went around a corner, and the boy flew out the car door.  Her boys climbed the roof and ripped shingles off when they were 6-7 years old.  The boys shot bee bee guns at police cars.  The boys strung string across the rode to choke the neighbor lady as she rode her bike.  They set fires, got lost, etc.  Friends and relatives often remark about how their house was so chaotic when they were kids that it was like being in the monkey cage at the zoo.

Now, I know, accidents happen.  Kids get into things.  But she is SO unfocused.  So scattered, that these things seem to happen all the time.  She has such poor judgement.  She expects others to pick up her slack.  She doesn't take advantage of safety features that could help "just in case".  I don't understand why, if you have a seat belt, or restraint, or whatever, you wouldn't use it, especially with some one else's kid.  She forgets how little the kids are and allows things that they are not capable of.  When she watches my niece and nephew, they are hungry, always over tired, cranky, and crying.  She has a poor ability to anticipate the kids' needs until it's too late and they are screaming.  She is not very close to my son, even though he sees her way more than my parents.  He never asks about her like he does my dad, who he's seen only twice in four years.  She gets overtired quickly.  She doesn't know her own limits and often promises stuff that she is physically unable to do.  She can't say no to the kids and is always more worried that they will like her than keeping them safe.

So, these are my choices.  And as I think about either of them watching my kids, I have panic attacks.  I don't know what to do.  People do not understand these things, and think I'm just an overprotective, mean daughter-in-law/daughter.  But I worry about my kids.  If something happened to them, I'd never forgive my self.  I don't want to expose them to someone who would hurt them emotionally, or allow them to get hurt physically.  I know what it is like to be hung out to dry by your parents, and I don't want to not be there if they need me.  I want them to know I am there for them.  But I feel guilty.  I know they need time away from me.  I know my husband wants time with me.  I'd love to take a vacation away for the night.  But the sheer panic that closes off my throat each time I think about it, makes it seem impossible.   And as my kids get older and older, I know the time will come where I have to.

My Mother-in-Law

My relationship with my mother has colored every other relationship in my life.  It seems that she has fitted me with glasses, forcing me to see thing through her lens.  And as I break free, I'm often unsure if I'm seeing someone for who they are, or through the narcissistic lens.

One such relationship is with my mother-in-law, June.  June and I have never been particularly close.  She and I  are very different people.  She is loud and boisterous and hyper.  She often does not see others or  notice the effect she has on others around her.  She lacks self-awareness and is often unable to predict the consequences of her actions.  She is unable to step outside of herself and view things as others do, especially as others might perceive her.  She is blunt and speaks before she thinks.  She is controlling, manipulative, passive-agressive, and critical.  She tends to live in extremes.  Often things are labeled as "the best", and she seems to be very black and white in her thinking.  One thing is the best, and others line up in descending order.

Now, in looking at this description, it seems she has a lot of narcissistic characteristics.  And in fact, she and my mother's behaviors often feel the same to me.  The difference is that I don't believe her to be acting from the same place.  I don't see her as a person who is controlling others to boost herself or in a need to be the most powerful.  She is generous and I truly believe she wants what is best for her children and those around her.  She just spends so much time and energy trying to make everyone happy, that she often ends up making everyone unhappy.  I believe she has ADHD (and I don't throw these terms around, I actually have lots of experience in diagnostics for mental disorders).  I believe this is the root of a lot of her behaviors.  Regardless, though, the effect she has on me is very similar to the effect my mother has on me.

Here are some of the things she has done to drive me crazy:

*She often "teases" people but I find it to be mean.  When my husband graduated from college, the family had a big party.  Probably 45 people were there.  I overhead laughing at the next table.  When I asked what they were laughing at (quite loudly) no one responded.  Finally, when pressed, my MIL said "well, I was saying that I read an article about how laughing can increase your breast size and I said you must not laugh very much!" She cackled, everyone cackled, and I felt so embarrassed.  She will poke fun of people's weights or appearance.
*She struggles with boundries.  She's always standing too close or listening in on a conversation I'm having with someone else.  She's walked in on me changing twice (and she's only had the opportunity to do this about half a dozen times, so proportion wise, it's a lot).  I've purposely moved away from her as she sat too close to me.  She then followed me and actually pursued me around the room.  She asks very personal questions.  Her first question to me when she came to meet her grandson was if my nipples hurt.  Her FIRST question.
*She's pushy.  If she doesn't like my response to something, she'll keep asking.  Lots of times she'll just ignore me and do what she wanted to do anyway.  She harassed me for years about having grandkids.  I told her repeatedly that her son and I weren't ready, we needed to be more secure financially, but she pushed and pushed because all her "friends had grandkids".   She pushed us to get married.  She often pushes us to do things like she did (get married in the same month, live in a neighborhood like hers, relive my husband's childhood through my kids' childhoods.
*She can be rude.  She notices imperfections in my home keeping (I'm actually a very clean, organized person) but she'll point out the smallest thing.  She has told me my son has my "wide forehead".  She also told me that my son "unfortunately, has the Stewart (hubby's paternal side) nose.  None of MY boys has that nose, but I think your son will".  This blew me away.  Not only did she insult my son and her husband's family but then managed to boost herself up at the same time.  Not to mention that my son DOESN'T have that nose and that two of her son's DO.  I always feel like I'm under a microscope when she visits.  She always says "oh, you don't have to clean for us".  But she notices if we don't.  And she is not an overly clean person.  In fact, very cluttered and disorganized.  She has told my Sister-in-law she is getting fat ( while most of her family is overweight).  She often makes fun of people's appearances.
*She is very complimentary.  Often I believe her. But she seems to be complimenting me to try and gain my favor.  And she copies the thing that she complimented me on and then claims it for her own.  Sometimes though she is jealous.  I make a really good lasagna that she had heard about.  I finally made it for her.  She said "You do make a really good lasagna.  But I make really good spaghetti."  What kind of compliment is that?  It is typical for her to compliment herself, especially when it is something she really shouldn't take credit for.
*She likes to have her thumb on her kids.  She used to be worse and has gotten better.  But she tends to think of everyone as one big family unit still.  She expects the more fortunate kids to help out the less fortunate (weather it be with money, time, etc.).  She almost acts like everything is community property.  She often has "family vacations" planned that are manditory.  My husband and I always are required to pay our share.  Rarely do the other family members pay.  What irks me especially about this is that hubby and I are fortunate because we budget and work hard.  Other family members are spenders and don't work.  Why should we have to work hard so that others can benefit?  She tries to control relationships between family members by getting involved in things that don't involve her.  She will sacrifice someone's feelings to keep the peace (or the peace in her mind) with another.   She often likes to sweep things under the table instead of dealing with them and expects everyone else to do the same.  She used to (but less so now with my husband) use one child to convince another one of her children to do something she wanted.  "Why don't you tell them..." so that it would seem her idea came from someone else.  I've often felt bullied by her to do what she wanted.  It used to be that she would tell me that God had sent her special messages for me.  That God had told her I needed something or another to be told to me.  She also prays a lot that people will do what she wants them to do.  She sees nothing wrong with this.  She'll take from one person and give it to another, disrespecting someone's individual needs.  I've seen her take food off one grandkid's plate and give it to another because the second child finished first.  Doesn't matter if the first kid isn't finished yet or how that child feels about it.  This drives me insane.  All my in-laws have helped themselves to food off my plate without asking (after they've snarfed down their food.  I eat slower.  I always go away from family meals hungry)
*She is inconsiderate.  Actually, both of my in-laws are.  They like to drop by unannounced.  At dinner time or nap time.  They expect us to accommodate their schedule (and the schedule of Brother and Sister-in-law).  She shows up late for birthday parties.  When she comes in she makes a big scene about arriving, grabs all the kids and then hogs them the rest of the day.  She has exposed my kids to illness because she wanted to see them.  This is sneaky because she knows we would tell them not to visit if we knew they were sick.  So, she tells us after they have been here for awhile.  They often announce their plans instead of asking to see what works for us.  They never call us ahead of time, even when they know full well they will plan on stopping.  I feel like they bulldoze me.
*She makes me feel like a snob.  I am not.  I just grew up with some rules of decorum.  I try to be respectful of others.  And I am raising my children that way.  She will tell her sons "Don't do that, Jessie doesn't like it" as they put back food from their plate into the main dish if they don't like it.  It makes me feel small and stupid.
*She has first tier and second tier family members.  Her sons, her, and her husband are first tier.  She has ornaments with names on them on her Christmas tree.  First tier people got big ornaments.  Second tier people (me and my sister-in-laws) and the dog got much smaller ornaments.  She gives much more expensive gifts to her sons.  She makes sure that all of her sons favorite meals are at holiday gatherings, but ridiculed my SIL for wanting something special.  She picks out special gifts for her sons, but has a "rote" gift she gives me and my SIL.  She gives us the same thing every year and the same thing to both of us even though we have different taste.  I understand her sons are her actual children and I expect some favoritism.  And it's not about the gifts or money.  It's about the blatant display of separation between us.
*She is gossipy.  She'll tell me things that she thinks my SIL and BIL are doing wrong with their kids but acts like it's out of  her concern for them.  But she doesn't mention it to them because she doesn't want to interfere and be "that MIL".  I don't trust her with anything because she tells everyone everything.  She doesn't respect privacy.  She accidentally sent pictures of my SIL's exposed body after delivery of her baby to her husband's boss.  And thought it was funny.  I can only imagine what "concerns" she expresses to my SIL about me.
*One of the biggest bones of contention is that I'm allergic to her dog.  When BIL and SIL could no longer keep their dog, she took it, knowing full well that I was allergic.  Now, she has every right to have a dog and I would never begrudge her it.  But it makes it difficult to go to her house.  For years, I was made to feel like my life-threatening allergy was a nuisance, like she had to go to all this extra work to accommodate me.   She has never once asked me about my asthma or allergies or how she can make it easier on me, but often comes to me with "cures".  I spent years and money on medications, shots, and every thing I could to stop it.  Nothing worked.  She now lets the family's 6 dogs come to her house on holidays, and then acts hurt that we don't go.  I know there has been rumbling behind my back that I can't attend.  When I would go they would put the dog in a back room.  The dog would shortly be back out because the dog was whining and felt "left out".   The dog always laid at my feet but no one moved it.  There was one wooden chair in the house I could sit in because they others were covered in hair and dander.    Finally, when I got pregnant, I decided enough was enough.  I couldn't go because I refused to put myself or my baby's health at risk to appease someone.  The kicker was when she told me she'd never get a cat because my BIL and SIL are allergic and they "would kill" her.  It makes it hard on hubby because we often can't go to his home town to visit.  Or we have to spend lots of money to visit.  And then we can't go to his parents house for more than a few hours.  He totally supports me, but it sucks for him.
*She pushed me to be friends.  But it came from a "keep your friends close but your enemies closer" stance.  She always told me that she didn't want to be "that MIL" because she didn't want to loose her sons.  But in doing so, she's pushed me away.  She tried to force a relationship and friendship but didn't want to let it develop and blossom over time.  She seemed anxious and panicked about getting me into the fold, so to speak.  She wasn't interested in finding a mutual satisfying relationship.  It was all about meeting her needs and she either ignored or plain bowled over anything I felt.  Most of her behaviors towards me feel phony.

So, I'm stuck with this woman and feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place.  I always feel like something is wrong with me as I've struggled with both the "mothers" in my life so much. Is it just me?   How much of what I feel is tainted by my relationship with MY mom.  How much is she really overbearing, pushy, and just plain socially inept?  And how to I resolve my feelings with her?  For years, I spent trying to do what I could to make it work.  I never rocked the boat.  I never stood up to her.  I never laid down boundries.  And now things are out of control.   There is so many things simmering.  And, now, when I do say something, she becomes huffy and offended.   Often she is so defensive that the point is lost.  I never learned to speak frankly with my own mother (in fact, was discouraged to do so) and now I don't know what to do in this situation.  Where is the line between a boundary and being rude?

My Baby

My NM (narcissistic mother) told me for many years that she didn't want to become a grandmother yet.  She was too young.  As a side note, she had a similar reaction when I called to tell her I was engaged.  I was so excited to call and tell her I was getting married.  "What?!  I can't deal with this.  I've been so stressed that I will be turning 50 next year.  I can't deal with this.  Talk to your step-dad."  And she got off the phone.  When she finally did get back on to talk to me, she clearly wasn't happy about it.
But back to the point.  One day, she declared she was ready to be a grandmother.  This didn't influence me, as I was already planning on having a baby.  Before my son was born and during the first year, she spent thousands of dollars on stuff.  Junk mainly.  And I was never grateful enough.  My father and she had been young and had less money when I was born.  I'm sure she felt, in fact I know she felt, she was a great savior.  That she was providing for us all that she had to do without.  Never mind that I didn't want, or like, most of what she bought.  Or that my husband and I were perfectly capable of providing for my son.
When Jake was born, she became obsessed.  "Obsessed" was my step-father's word.  And she was.  He consumed all of her thoughts and mind.  She completely ignored me when around him.  In the middle of a sentence, she would interrupt and start talking to the baby.  She would just stare at him as he ate, ignoring her own meal.  In fact, she stared at him all the time.  She was obsessed too with being the "favorite" grandparent.  She told me repeatedly that she would be closest to my son, as I parented so much like her, and we sounded so much alike.  It was weird.

But it got weirder.  She would often refer to herself as "mom".  A typical slip up.  But she would refer to me as "grandma".  Not a slip up.  She started to try and isolate my son from his father.  If she was holding him, she'd say "Tell daddy no!  No daddy" when Paul tried to take the baby.  She'd do this when my husband would give an instruction about my baby.  I would always stop her, but she acted as if it was a game.  Like she was being funny.  She bought my son TONS of toys.  She never went anywhere without buying him tons of crap.  She waltzed in one time with my (then two) son's first big boy bike.  He couldn't even ride a tricycle at the time.  I was saddened.  I had wanted to get my son his first bike.  I had wanted my SON to pick it out.  I had wanted to make it a special event for my son, when he was ready.  She stole many such moments.  She had to pick out the first Christmas outfit.  She bought him a Christmas stocking.  None of these things  would have been such a big deal on their own.  And in fact, in trying to explain why it bothered me so badly, I just sounded superficial and controlling.  But if felt like she was trying to have him be HER son.  Like she was purposely imposing on every big moment.

She told me a story once about a man she met on the plane.  He had told her that if she fed the baby when he was very little, it would bond them forever.  She brought this up many times.  Unfortunately for her, I breastfed exclusively.  And my son refused bottles.  This annoyed her so much.  She would take every opportunity to rush in a head of me and meet his needs.  She never noticed these needs, but noticed me about to meet them, and she would snatch whatever it was from me.  The only thing she wouldn't do (or at least often) is change diapers.  She hated this.

When my son began to grow up and get ideas of his own, things started to change.  It got worse when my second son was born.  These are the incidents that really stick out in my mind about this time:

*My husband, son, NM, and I were having dinner.  Jake was just under 3.  He wanted so desperately to be a big boy and join in the "conversation" at the dinner table.  He was telling a somewhat involved story and he was laboring a bit over the sentence structures.  Paul and I found it endearing and adorable.  He'd been going on for about five minutes when, apparently, she became bored.  She interrupted him and started telling her own story.  Hubby and I were used to her doing this to us, but it shocked me she would do it to him.
*My husband and step-father would spend a lot of time together.  When they would come home, before they even hung up their coats she would be at them.  "Jake, show them what grandma taught you".  And then she'd make him perform like a circus seal all the tricks she'd taught him.  She didn't encourage him, she out and out told him what to say and do.  I told her to knock it off once. "What?  I'm just proud of him.  I want them to see what he can do".  I felt so helpless.
*When Caleb was born, Jake was understandably shaken up.  I was gone for 5 days in the hospital and life was chaotic.  He was also under NM's care alot.  By the end, he was tired, cranky, and just off.  I felt so badly for him and said as such to my mom.  "He needs some attention," I said.  "He's gotten enough attention!  I've given him plenty of attention."  Well, he needed his MOM's attention.  She was not a substitute for me and it annoyed me she thought she was.  He was scared and jealous.  All understandably so.  And she had absolutely no empathy.
*While she was here during my son's birth, I made some plans for special outings for fun, as I knew I wouldn't be able to do a lot with Jake once she left (surgery and all).  NM made it clear she thought this was a bit ridiculous of me (catering to my child), but went along.  Most of the time she was "exhausted" and grouchy by the time we came home, even though she did little of the actual work.  It was clear going to the playground and such were not want SHE wanted to do.  When we got home one day, I was unpacking the car and Jake wanted to ride his tricycle.  I asked her to take him around the block and let him play for a few minutes.  Within about five minutes, Jake was running through the door crying.  What happened? I asked.  She said simple "He didn't want to get off his bike." and she smirked.  This incident haunts me.  I still have no idea what happened.  And even the fact that she could only spare five minutes bothers me.  Five minutes was it because she was "old" and "tired".  For her precious grandson who had been her obsession for so long.
*We were talking about my son starting preschool.  He was SO excited and we were talking it up.  "Oh, Jake, I can't believe you're going to preschool" she said.  "That makes grandma SOOO sad!".  "MOM!" I chastised.  "Why would you say that?  You'll confuse him.  This is a good thing.  He won't understand why it would make YOU sad".  Again with the smirk.  And nothing else.  But at least she shut up.
*She bought a train table for my son's 2nd birthday.  One that I had to put together, I might add, because she "wouldn't have time" when she arrived.  We had just moved and I had a million other things to do, but I dutifully put it together.  More for him than her, but still.  A year later, she was at our house and he hadn't been playing with it all that much.  "Why don't you play with that table I bought you?"  She pestered him about it over and over.  Because he's 3.  Because he has other things to play.  Because he has a mind of his frickin' own lady!  Leave him be.
*I asked her to help my son with a puzzle.  My son became distracted by a cartoon for a moment.  She literally ripped the puzzle piece from his hand because she knew where it went.  She then finished the puzzle by herself.  A CHILD'S 60 piece jigsaw puzzle by herself.  And she was so smug and proud when she did.  She seemed so childish and immature.

She makes me nervous.  I don't trust her.  Everyone says she's the doting grandma.  She says all the right things.  I always wonder how much I'm seeing through the lens of my own feelings about my childhood.  She sure as hell never treated me like she does him.  But everyone says she's just excited or just loves him so much.  They all act like it's normal.  Just another thing that makes me feel off balance.  Another way I don't trust myself to perceive reality.

Divorce Part II : How NM blamed it all on me

My mother went on like nothing happened after the divorce.  Blissfully happy in her new family and new life.  I was hurt that she could cast my sister and me aside so easily, but I still loved her so much, wanted to support her, wanted to be a part of her life.  I desperately did all I could to be the good daughter.
When I went away to college, my relationship with my mom (Hilda) changed.  I thought at the time that it was for the better.  She called me all the time.  Not to check on me really.  Oh, she asked about me and "worried" and "stressed" about her poor, silly daughter, so far from home.  So far from her.  (And as a side note, I had somewhat intentionally chosen to go to college as far from her as possible.  My releasing had began even if I didn't fully realize it.)  But she never really seemed to listen or care about the things I was struggling with.  Mainly because it didn't compare to the things she was going through with my sister.  Those were REAL problems.  This would be, and still is a theme, in my relationship with my sister and mom.  Their self-induced drama and problems and chaos were always so much more important than what was going on in my life.  How can you complain, Jessie?  What do you have to be sad about, Jessie?  If you want to know about a real problem, Jessie let me tell you about....  And, yes, the things going on with my sister were bad.  She had always been a "spirited" child.  But after the divorce, she went crazy.  Drugs, running away, rapes, sex with boys, not coming home.  On and on.  And my mother would call, detailing every bit.  She would complain to me and cry.  I felt horrible.  I felt helpless.  There was nothing I could do, especially 400 miles away.  My sister and I didn't even talk at this time.  We would be estranged and loathe each other for a long time (mainly created by my mother, but that is another post).  Hilda would tell me I was like "her personal psychologist".  This made me feel important at the time.  My mother needed me!  After years of ignoring me, she needed me.  I can see now, that it was killing me.  I was so helpless and these problems were beyond my ability to fix.  Not that my mother did anything either to help.  She just enabled and enabled.  Lamented about why she was so unfortunate to have a daughter like my sister.  Years later I would suggest that maybe the divorce or her behavior had something to do with it.  My mother cried and became upset, yelled that she was a horrible mother.  But what did I want her to do about it.  "I can't take back the past!  I had to do what was best for me!"  She said she was sorry, but I never believed her.  I lived with knots in my stomach for years.  What should've been a wonderful period of growth and discovery for me, became about her and her problems and her stress.  Trips home were awful.  And on occasion, she would drop my sister off with me.  So she could get away and relax.  These occasions terrified me.  To be responsible for someone so out of control.  To have someone around me who was so volatile and could wreck havoc in the little support system I had created at school.  I was terrified my sister would reveal the craziness that was home to my friends.
I met my husband around my junior year.  The relationship with my mom started to dissolve. When I wasn't there for her solely, she became upset.  We became combative.  As I found myself, and with support from my husband (then boyfriend) I began to move out of her control.  I  was not at her beck and call.  I tried to create my own life.  She became desperate.  She would call and cry and overwhelm me with  her constant need for attention.  And when she would visit, things would get bad.  They always ended in arguments.  The fights always started with her being condescending, or rude, or putting me or Paul (hubby) down.  She would accuse me of not being there for her in her problems with  Erica.  I would tell her that it was killing me and she needed to learn on her husband or call my father.  My father sent her into rages because she no longer controlled him.  She wanted him to parent as she was parenting.  To obsess and enable my sister.  And then when he didn't, her anger turned to me and she would say "It's not fair that I'm the only one dealing with Erica.  I shouldn't have to do this alone.  If I have to deal with it, you all should deal with it too.  If I have to have this stress in my life, so should you."  Why should I? I wanted to scream.  I didn't create her messes.  I was helpless to fix them.  I had my own life.  She never tried to shelter me, or protect me.  She wanted to drag me down into her hole.  Anyway, these arguments would happen and when I would confront her, she would play her trump card.  "You're not over the divorce" she would smirk.  As if this was my fatal flaw.  And I never knew how to respond.  Because, yeah, I really wasn't over it.  I had never grieved, never mourned, never had any moment to express MY feelings.  I was always so busy taking care of everyone else.  But that was beside the point.  This wasn't about that anger.  This was about her being rude and spiteful and selfish.  She would spit "you need therapy".  Again, this was true.  But she acted as if I got "fixed" then all the problems would disappear.  We would no longer have conflict.  She refused to see that she had ownership in anything.  And as these fights layered on each other, my frustration grew.  And she would amp things up with each fight.  And then one time, she told me she had gotten the divorce for Erica and me.  My dad was poor and angry and depressed.  And she felt that Hank would be a better father.  She blamed ME for it all.  I couldn't even fathom how she concluded this.  How she spun things to make herself seem the hero, making the selfless sacrifice for her daughters.  Never mind that my Dad wasn't as horrible as she made out (he was hard and angry but definitely not some loser father) but I never could have "replaced" him.  I loved my Dad.  Never mind that SHE benefited the most from this event. Never mind that she repeatedly told me she had done this for her "freedom".  When cornered, she turned around and blamed me.  I began to harden towards her.  And finally, after one argument, where she berated me that I needed to get over things, I needed to let go,  I needed to fix myself, I lost it.  Hell yeah, I was angry.  Hell yeah, I was hurt.  "You abandoned me and Erica when we needed you so that you could go and  fuck Hank."  Silence.  I was small and sad and tired in the back of the car. I'd felt like a beaten, caged animal.  She had pushed me too far.  I instantly felt horrible, guilty.  But I also felt a little better.  And that made me feel guilty.  She had been pushing me to say this for so long.  I had resisted because I knew she'd only use it against me.  Hold a grudge until the day she died.  But there it was.  She burst into tears.  Demanded Paul take her to her hotel.  Paul suggested we go sit down, talk this out.  No, she screamed.  We took her to her hotel.    The next day she showed up at my door to drop off my blow dryer she had borrowed.  She stood expectantly on my doorstep, waiting for an apology.  I gave her none.  And she gave me none.  Just gave me a hug, stated that she loved me, and moved on.  And we've never talked about the divorce since.