The Switch has been Flipped

After we first moved to WA state from Ohio, I talked to my Mom at least three {and sometimes more} times a week.

It has lessened gradually over the years.

From three plus times a week to two times a week.

From two times a week to once a week.

From once a week to once every two weeks.

And finally to where we are now. . .  Once a month.

The last time I talked to Mom was right before the fourth of July.

She had called while I was out, so I called her back when I got home.  I was nervous to pick up the phone.  It had been a while since I had talked to her and I figured she would be angry with me because it had been such a long time.

But I sucked it up and dialed her number.  Held my breath as I listened to the phone ring.

And when she answered?  I said, "Hi Mommy."

She was not angry like I thought she would be.  Which was weird because we had argued over this exact same issue a couple of years ago.

She told me how her dog had puppies (a month before).  And how my sister was helping her out a whole lot with the puppies and various other things.

And then it clicks.

That's why she wasn't angry.  My sister has taken the place of favorite.

So I spend the whole conversation hearing about how "my sister did this" and "my sister did that" and "my sister will be doing this, that and the other thing" and blah, blah, blah.

And I start to get angry.

But it's not really anger.

No.  It's worse.

It's jealously.

My sister and I have traded places.  I was the one that Mom counted on.  I was the one that was always there for her.  I was the one that she could talk to.

And now I'm not.

My sister is there for her.  My sister does things for her.  My sister is the one that she confides in.

Now I understand how my sister must have felt when Mom and I did everything together.

And it sucks.

*****

Linking up with Pour Your Heart Out hosted by Shell at Things I Can't Say

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Thanksgiving Thankfulness

I was not in a good place Wednesday night.

As I was making my dinner plate, I overheard my MIL talking about all the things she needed to do for Thanksgiving dinner.

Randall immediately told her that he and I would be happy to help with anything she needed help with.

She politely declined.

I don't know why but I instantly became homesick.

I instantly started missing my Mom.

I teared up.  Teared up while making my dinner plate.  I had tears dripping into my eggs.

Randall was beside himself.  He totally had no clue as to why I was crying.  He thought I was upset over the soda almost being all gone.

It so was not the soda.

So I eat dinner in my melancholy mood, fighting tears as I ate.  I kept thinking about home and how if we were home, I would be helping my Mom fix Thanksgiving dinner.

How I would be helping with the deviled eggs.

How I would be helping with the turkey.

How I would be helping with the mashed potatoes.

How I would be helping with the shuck beans.

How I would make the stuffing, even if it was Stove Top and not made from scratch.

How I would help watch the rolls so they wouldn't burn in the oven.  Mom is notorious for burning the rolls!

I can't do any of that here.  Haven't been able to do that for the three years we have been here...

I love my MIL, I really do.  But she is the type of person who will refuse help when it's offered and then complain about no one offering to help.

All these thoughts and more go through my head as I try to eat dinner.

Later, in our room, as we were winding down for the night, Randall asks me again what was wrong at dinner.

I shook my head not wanting to talk about it.  Knowing that if I did, I would start to cry again.

He continues to ask me.  So I tell him.  And cry.

He then makes me laugh by looking at me and asking, "It's me isn't it?  Me being funky is what has made you so sad, right?"

I look at him through my teary eyes.  I can't help but giggle.  I respond with, "Yes babe.  It is definitely you.  You and all your funkiness are what have caused me to be sad."

I love that I can always count on Randall to cheer me up when I'm down.

I'm thankful for that.

Hope your Thanksgiving has been full of fun, love and thanks!

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Age of Text

First of all?  I am finally feeling better!

Throat is still a little sore but not as bad as it was.

Think I even got through without infecting any of my loved ones.

The fix?  Hot as I could stand it Ramen Noodle soup and apple juice.  What a combination!  But it was a combo that actually helped.

Yesterday, I was sitting here eating Ramen Noodles, drinking apple juice, playing on the computer and texting my Mom.  I am so good at multitasking!

Mom and I exchange a couple of texts and Kaylee chimes in that she would like to text with Mammaw.  Sure, I don't have a problem with it.  OK, that's a total lie.  I did not want to share my phone with her.  I did not want her to text.  But Randall made me feel bad, so I gave in.

Kaylee sends off a text.

She patiently waits for Mammaw to reply.

Mammaw replies.  Note that it takes Mammaw a few minutes to send her reply.

Kaylee sends another text.

After a minute, Kaylee says, "What is taking Mammaw so long??"

I look at her and say, "Sweetie.  You have to remember that Mammaw is older, so it takes her a few minutes to type what she wants to say."

Kaylee thinks about this for a quick second and says, "Well, how old is Mammaw anyway?"

I cringe a little bit, because I already know what will be said before I answer.  But I do the quick math in my head and tell her, "Mammaw is 68 years old."

"Wow!  Mammaw is old!"  I totally knew that is what she would say.  "Well how old is Pappaw then?"

"Pappaw is 72 years old."

Her jaw almost dropped to the floor.  "Oh my gosh!  He is old too!  I didn't know he was that old."

I guess when you're 8 it's hard to comprehend just exactly how old old can be.

My Mom replied to Kaylee during all this and she quickly sent off a text.  It took my Mom a few minutes to reply back, again.  Kaylee can not understand why it is taking Mammaw so long to text back.

So I finally say to Kaylee (after listening to her complain for a couple minutes), "Babe, Mammaw is kinda slow at texting.  She is out of practice because I haven't texted with her in awhile.  Just be patient, OK?"

Eight texts and an hour later and Kaylee is done texting with Mammaw.

She did not enjoy texting with slow fingered Mammaw.  But said she wants to text with Mammaw the next time she texts us.

Really thinking that Kaylee just wants to text to practice for whenever she is finally able to have a cell phone of her own.  Which won't be for a few years!

Thank goodness for unlimited text plans!

Hoping your Monday is a good one!

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Just a Ramble

I don't know why but I am feeling down today.

No real reason other than I just have the 'blahs'.

My Mom's birthday was on Thursday.  She made sure to rub it in my face that my sister and my niece came to visit and stayed ALL day.  Plus bought her a cake and some awesome gifts.  Then proceeded to tell me that if I sent her a card that she hadn't received it yet.  Well, I didn't send a card.  I had plans of sending her flowers for her day but I kept putting it off.  She sometimes gets a wild hair up her butt and decides to take off to Tennessee to visit her sisters.  I didn't know if she would be in town or not so I decided to wait and see.

Now I know what you're thinking...  Why didn't I just call Mom before her birthday and ask what her plans were?  I'll tell you why...  I try to limit my conversations with my mother to about once a week.  They take A LOT out of me!  She spends almost EVERY minute of our conversation hounding asking me when we are moving home...  No answer that I give her ever eases it either.  I have told her that we are trying to save the money.  That doesn't work.  I have told sometime over the summer.  That doesn't work.  I have told her that we want to move but we are waiting for Randall's settlement to come in (from an accident back in October) but that when we move we are going to Tennessee.  She accepted that for a little while.  But here recently has started bombarding me with questions of when and where and how...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Can I be truthful with you?

Of course I can.

Mom says that she wants to move to Tennessee (has said this for YEARS).  She claims that she needs me to come back to Ohio so that I (well we, Randall and I but NOT my siblings) can help her pack up her house so she can move.  Truth is, Mom is never going to move.  Ever.  There are TOO many memories in that house that she doesn't want to give up.  She uses needing me to help her as a ploy to get me there and then she will suddenly not want to move.  I AM NOT LIVING IN OHIO EVER AGAIN!  Well not in Cincinnati anyway.

Geez...  Sorry.

I did not mean to get into my relationship with my dysfunctional family...  Actually my relationship with Mom isn't all that bad.  One of these days I will tell the story of how my brother said it was my fault that Mom got sick with pneumonia (December 08) and came close to dying.  Talk about a kick in the face but that was something else!

Anyfamily...

I waited to call her on her day and found she was home...  So I am ordering flowers for her tonight in hopes of them getting to her by Monday or Tuesday.  She will think of them as an after thought.  Like I didn't care enough to get them there on her day.  And that's OK.  I know that my intentions are all in the right place.  I do love my Mom even when she pushes my buttons.  I just wish I could make her realize it.


I hope your Saturday has been decent and may your Sunday be even better!

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