First of all, I have to thank everyone who took the time to comment on my last post. As a sort of follow-up, I am going to attempt the impossible task of explaining my and my mom’s relationship. Oh, this is just such a cliché… the anorectic with the overbearing mother. But it’s true.
Look, I’m the first to admit that I can be not the easiest person with whom to get along, but I think I know when I’m being ridiculous. For example, I like it when my cereal boxes are lined up with the nutrition panels facing out; there is no particular reason for this other than that it appeals to my sense of “symmetry.” Because I know that it’s stupid, even though my mom knows I prefer them that way, I am not going to kick up a fuss about it when she inevitably puts a box in backwards. It’s just not worth it to me… it’s just a cereal box, after all.
I do, however, find it funny (funny sad, not funny ha ha) that someone who doesn’t seem to hear me when I say something important, hears things that I never even said. She seems to have conversations with me in her head, then gets mad when I don’t hold up my end of a deal of whose existence I am unaware. If I can say one thing about myself, it is that if I promise to do something, I do it. If I know that there is a chance that I won’t be able to come through, I will not say that I will. I don’t know what’s going on in her head — quite frankly, I am pretty sure that I don’t want to know — but I think that it involves her construction of me as someone or something I’m not, just because that’s what she wants her daughter to be.
That means she expects me to be “normal.” To her, this means that I need to do things exactly the way she does. Including diet. Now, I am admittedly not a nutrition expert, and I will never criticize someone else’s dietary choices, but seriously? Someone whose idea of “eating healthy” involves deep-frying in olive oil instead of canola oil? Yeah, not someone I want to emulate. And every single time she sits down with a party-size bag of chips and just eats out of it without paying attention, I have to bite my tongue because it bothers me … but you know what? Her life, her diet, her choice! I don’t think she would do anything differently if I ragged on her about it.
That is what I wish she would understand. For the record, while I think she may love me, I don’t believe she likes me very much. And honestly, when it comes right down to it, I’d rather be liked than loved. Anyway, I don’t think that “love” is a reason to let this whole think before you speak thing go flying out the window. She is one of the most uncensored people I know, and not in a good way; she will say whatever she wants to say, usually to the people who are nearest at hand, and because I live with her, that person is usually me.
I refuse to accept the idea that it’s okay for someone to treat me the way she does, “in the name of love.” I don’t give a damn how much you love someone, or how much you care; find another way to show it, and if you can’t manage to do it without insulting and belittling them, then just don’t do it at all. Is it any wonder that I’m not really sure if I even believe in the concept of love?! I mean, if this is what it is… who would want to have anything to do with it?!
The really depressing part about all this is that even after I move out, it won’t stop. My sister tells me that my mom still hounds her, and she’s been married for nearly twenty years! I can already imagine the hell that will break loose when I announce that I am not planning to stay here until I get married — if I ever do. It will be all about, “What will people say?” when it really means, “Whom will I harass?” Yes, in the past my mom and I have gotten along better with a few thousand miles between us; but that’s probably because she always knew that I was coming back.
And I am going to shut up about this for now. Promise.
Trader Joe’s lemon sorber, Double Rainbow mango tangerine sorbet.
First up, mango tangerine:
I really liked this at first… but after a couple of spoonfuls, the true sweetness set in, and it was too much for me. My brother absolutely loved it, my mom said it was too sweet, and my dad said it was “okay, but not the best.”
Trader Joe’s lemon:
Oddly, this had the same problem; good at first, but then too sweet. My dad made the very astute observation that sorbets are sweeter than ice creams. Yeah… having sugar and then corn syrup as primary ingredients will do that.
A little experiment … I will not give measurements, because as you can see, I haven’t gotten it down yet! It contained protein powder, egg whites, almond milk, baking powder, Truvia, blueberry jam, and blueberries. I think.
Attempt #1… kind of exploded in the microwave. Way too much liquid! I ate it anyway (what I could salvage!), and tried again the next day, minus the fresh blueberries since I couldn’t find them in the refrigerator. (Another issue I have with my mom… don’t get me started on that one.)
Attempt #2. Better, but still not perfect. And it was missing the fresh berries, which would have added a lot to it. Work in progress, I guess.
Like my knee.
I’m getting very frustrated. I don’t care about the bruises — those don’t actually hurt. Unfortunately for me, I’m not seeing my acupuncturist until Thursday. And the clinic is going to close altogether come August… what am I going to do then?! There is no way I’d be able to find anything as affordable elsewhere. Maybe I’ll just have to become immortal and immune to any sort of injury or malaise. Yeah, that sounds good…
But in the meantime, you’re all invited to my birthday party in a couple of weeks. I’m turning ninety! This, in fact, is fast becoming my closest friend:
Problem is that it’s meant to be used three to four times a day… but the effects only last about ten minutes. This is an issue. Also an issue: my nails are getting frightfully long, and I am too lazy to do anything about it.
Oh, yeah, and I scored this today:
I hobbled about to get a free bike helmet from the DOT. Never mind that I haven’t ridden a bike in, oh, five years? Ignoring the fact that I’m not exactly in any condition to be riding a bike right now anyway, I’d probably topple right over. But then I’d need a helmet, right?? Well, everyone does. Especially a klutz like me. (Random: I met my sister-in-law today while I was carrying my helmet home, and she determined that I am an excellent resource for such things… as in, hey, you can get a free bike helmet today. She was also delighted to hear that Kashi cereals are on sale at Target this week for $2.85, but really, she didn’t need me for that… she could have just looked at the flyer!)
Some gardening help here, please; these things are growing at an insanely rapid pace, and I really need to thin them out, but I have no idea which are weeds. And some of them must be weeds, because I didn’t plant so many things as to have all these different types of leaves!
Anyone know what’s happening up there? Because I sure don’t!
I am particularly dreading tomorrow — more than I normally would dread a Monday — because ninety (okay, eighty-nine) is well past retirement age, and my poor joints do not currently have the lubrication required to go back to work. But, if this is supposed to be an incentive, I get to go have my blood sucked all over again tomorrow morning, so yay!
Hope you all have a great start to your week.
“Look at a stone cutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred-and-first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not the last blow that did it, but all that had gone before.”
~Jacob A. Riis