Update: I wrote this post over 2 years ago when my mother was living with me. She has since moved back.
Reading this post breaks my heart, knowing I was at a point where I had nothing good to say about her. I saw her struggles and sacrifices growing up. She did her best as a single mother to provide for me and my brother. Although we do butt heads, she has and will always be my cheerleader.
I was so ashamed that I wrote this post that I never finished, edited nor published it. Today I’m publishing it. I need a reminder to never ever get to this point with the one person who loves me unconditionally.
As a mother myself, I can’t imagine how devastated I would be should my own children write something like this about me. I love you mom.
I’m married, have a darling four year old son and living with my mother.
7 years ago I moved away from home to a larger and more bustling city. I needed to get away from the life I had in a smaller city where everybody was connected to you by 6 degrees of separation. Life on my own was amazing. Of course I missed my family and friends dearly but I knew that I needed to step out of my comfort zone.
Fast forward one year I had a beautiful little boy and was in the process of planning a wedding. Fast forward another two years, my mother told me she was coming out here to live with me so she can help take care of my son while I was at work. It looked at it as a great blessing. After all, other than yourself, who else would care for your own child better than the child’s grandmother?
Thankfully, my husband, very laid back and reasonable as he is, thought it was a great idea also. He and my mother get along fairly well. I on the other hand SOMETIMES wish she still lived in a different city. 2 hours away by plane. 36 hours away by car, and just a phone call away.
Reason’s why letting your mother live with you is the worst decision you’ve made:
- She drives me crazy! She always has to give her input about everything and anything, even if the topic at hand has nothing to do with her. Not only that, she always has to have the last say, in everything.
- She does not let me parent my own child. When I’m trying to discipline my son, she always step in and intervene because either I’m being too harsh or doing it wrong.
- Every decision I make always always has to go through her first. Okay, maybe not every decision, but it sure feels like it especially with a mother who is nosy as mine and is always in my business.
- She makes the smallest things so dramatic. For example, if my brother doesn’t call her for a couple of days, she’ll suddenly go into drama mode and say things like “he doesn’t care about us anymore”, “why should I call him, if he won’t call me”. Come on! Seriously? I blame it on all the Korean dramas she watches. My mother is the ultimate drama queen.
- She thinks that without her I am incapable of living life as a regular adult. It took almost a year of convincing her not to cook for us anymore. She would make dinner every single day, and say things like “If it weren’t for me, you would go hungry!”
- My home is not MY home. My mother has is a semi-hoarder. She loves to stock up on suger, water, toilet paper, oil and canned goods. To the point that there is not more room for these things other than the corners of our kitchen and sometimes the living room! This drives me insane because I hate clutter! I guess it all has to do with all those years living with her. To her, she doesn’t feel right if she doesn’t have 10 bags of sugar lined up in the cupboards. It’s true, she said so herself.
- She’s a perpetual liar. I’ve come to realize my mother lies. About many things. Okay, nothing crazy but more like white lies. She’ll lie about things like what time something has to get done by, she’ll ALWAYS say 10 am when really it’s 12 pm. Nothing really wrong with that, unless you are waiting outside in the cold for two hours because you thought you would be picked up at a certain time, when really she just said it so you would be early. Really early. Not to mention the he said, she said lies. I hate those.
- I just feel burned sometimes.
I’ve always thought I knew what kind of parent I was going to be. I was going to be patient and gentle. I would never embarrass my children nor would I lie to them. I would keep my cool and know how to comfort them. I would offer choices, not ultimatums. I would be fun. I would be the cool mom that always had her shit together.
Well, once my children was born that expectation of myself quickly dissipated. Motherhood is hard.
Instead my son plays by himself. My girls sit in front of the TV. I sometimes lose control of my temper and raise my voice. I get temperamental, and lie just so I can get some peace and quiet. I cry to myself and even feel sorry for myself sometimes.
Yet, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My children are the one thing in life I cannot live without. What kind of parent do I want to be? I just want to be their parent.
Sometimes. Okay, Not Really.
But hear me out.
I used to be a smoker. From when I was 20 until I turned 25. I was the only smoker amongst my friends. I wouldn’t say it was because it was the cool thing to do back then. It wasn’t, and my friends hated that I smoked. I mainly picked up smoking because it was something to do while I was bored, and I guess I was bored a lot.
I quit as soon as I found I was pregnant with my son. Cold turkey. It wasn’t even a negotiation in my mind. I never picked up that vice ever again. I tried once – having a cigarette, it made me feel nauseous and sick. My body rejected it. (Yaye!) The smell of second-hand smoke today makes me ill. I can’t believe that I ever subjected my friends to it.
I remember begging my best friend to let me smoke in his car. I used to even smoke in my apartment, and when friends came over, I paid no regard to their feelings or health.
I sometimes wish I was a smoker so I had something to do when I’m bored. So instead of snacking, I could just light one up. But seeing how horrible I was when I was a smoker, thank goodness I no longer am.
I’m happy I’m no longer a smoker.
It’s been over a year since I’ve last posted. I pretty much forgot about this blog until today when I decided to start blogging. As I was trying to decide on a blog name, Dirt and Pixie Dust popped up into the field. How could I have forgotten?
Reading past posts, I’ve come to realize how much different my life is now than it was then.
For starters my family of three has become a family of five when I was blessed with two little darling twin girls. Needless to say, I have much more to write about now.
I hope to add more substance to my posts. In the past I was always hesitant to express my true feelings. Although I blogged about this and that, my posts were censored in a sense. That reading back in on it now, I questioned whether it was actually me who wrote it.
I’m looking forward to this.
Winter is finally gone, and spring decided to step aside after a week to give summer a chance to finally grace us with its presence. All I could say is; it’s about time!
This year we had, what seemed to be the longest, most dragged out winter ever. Thankfully (in my opinion anyways) it wasn’t that cold. (I was born and raised in Winnipeg, and nothing compared to the harsh winters there.)
Last weekend we finally was able enjoy the hot weather. My husband and I ran the Color Me Rad 5K. This 5K was all about colorful fun.
The Color Me Rad isn’t your typical 5K. What makes it special and much more fun is that at every kilometre of the run coloured corn starch is thrown at you. I believe it is the same stuff they used during the Holi Festival of Colours in India. By the time you cross the finish line, you look like a Picasso painting. It was an energy filled run and the fun continued on even after you crossed the finish line. There was Zumba, music, dancing and even crowd surfing! I didn’t do any crowd surfing for the sake of my fellow runners.
There was no pressure (since the races weren’t timed) and it was perfect for my husband who has never participated in a run or walk before.
Unfortunately we didn’t do much training leading up to the 5K run, so we probably were able to only jog a total of 1K out of the 5 (which isn’t too bad, considering how unfit we both are). It did however spark motivation in us to start jogging. My goal is one day to be able to jog the whole 5K without walking!
So there you go another thing to add to the list of goals. Jog a whole 5K.