My mother makes me CRAZY in a way that nobody else can. I love my mother and I think she is the best mother in the world, but I cannot deny that she makes me want to scream at least 50% of the time. I don’t scream because she is big on respect and I am pretty sure that she could still beat me in a physical fight, if only because I would never be crazy enough to raise my hand to my mother. I know that I am not alone because my friends and I have commiserated about the mother/daughter relationship and the delicate thread on which it hangs.
For those that could not tell, my Suga Booga is a girl. There are times that I look into her big brown eyes and think to myself, “Oh God, I really don’t want to do this.” I really don’t want her to grow up because I REALLY don’t want to do the mother/daughter tug-of-war, train wreck style argument with her. I know that we are not always going to agree and like my son she will need discipline that she is not always going to like, but one thing I have learned from having brothers, having friends with brothers and seeing the difference between husbands relationship with his mother compared to his sister’s is that a mother/daughter relationship is totally different.
Like I said before, I love my mother. She is one of the first people I call when I have good news or bad. She is my rock when I am feeling unstable. She is a great problem solver, despite not being the best listener. She is the one person that I know will love and support me no matter what I do. Everyone else in my life has a limit (cheating, stealing, lying, murder…), but not my mom. She is determined to love me no matter what. That is the best thing about having a good mother. They only want to love and help you. At least that what they tell you right before they make a comment about something you could be doing better.
IT is usually at this point in the conversation that a smart daughter braces herself for impact because she and her mother are about to collide. My friend DC asked if I was excited about Suga Booga’s upcoming Christening and when I said, “No.” She laughed and asked why I would not be looking forward to such a momentous occasion. My reply was, “I already know how this is going to end. My mother and I are going to fight.” I know this because despite her best efforts to raise me “right” we continually have differing views about almost everything. The thing you learn as a girl is that you can’t win an argument with your mother because even when you win, you lose.
You lose because if she is like my mother you now feel bad for upsetting her, “yelling” at her, disappointing her, or disrespecting her. If you have a mother like Chyna she has totally gotten under your skin and you cannot fully enjoy the victory no matter how big it was. The funniest part about these blow-ups is that most daughters see them coming and despite her best efforts it is like a runaway train. (Did you see the Denzel movie unstoppable?) It is a lot like that. You know that there is bound to be some fall out and damage, but you can’t stop it.
If you say you don’t want to talk about it, she will become offended. If you agree, she will say that you are patronizing her or keep asking you about it until you want to pull your hair out. If she gives you advice and you don’t take it, she will accuse you of not listening and valuing her opinion. There is no right answer. It does not matter if you just called to say hello because all daughters know that all she has to do is ask or be asked the wrong question and all that sweetness will jump right out of the window, only to be followed by lines like “Fine. I won’t say anything else” (Even though you know she will) or “I don’t know why I can’t ask you a question without you getting so upset” or “I am your mother and I just want what’s best for you” or “I was only trying to help (…and this is the thanks I get)”. It is enough to make any girl paranoid and on edge. That is why we all hate to call even though we so desperately want to call. Let’s face it; there are times when a girl just needs her mommy.
My mother will ask a question, talk over me as I try to respond and then become upset and ask me why I did not answer her. If I interrupt to answer her question, she accuses me of being rude and not letting her finish a thought. This is not something that happens in conversation with my father and I never hear of this going on between her and my brothers. The same is true for my friends. This seems to be a strictly mother/daughter phenomenon.
It would seem as though mothers are never truly satisfied with their little girls, but that is not really true. For mothers, daughters are like a never ending artistic masterwork that they are constantly trying to improve upon. They are constantly trying to refine, reshape, and polish us up. We are a direct reflection of them. We are like an unfinished concerto that will be perfect as soon as they add one more note. I am starting to understand that better since becoming a mother. You feel like your children arrive as perfect little people and you want to keep them perfect or at least have other people see the perfection that you see. The problem is that most of us reach a point where we stop wanting to be improved upon and just want to be accepted. Nobody will accept you and your flaws like your mother. She may even secretly love them. She might think the gap in your teeth is sweet, but that won’t stop her from giving you a brochure on braces.
No comments:
Post a Comment