My mother called me yesterday and left a message on my voicemail. She said that she’s booked. She works until 10:00 tonight and works from 8:00 – 4:30 tomorrow. Then she had the nerve to say “Uh… I miss you.”
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You miss me? YOU MISS ME? Don’t you dare lie to me. First of all, if you ‘missed me’ that much you would make the time to see me. You know since you haven’t seen me in over a year. Or has it been two years? I lost track. Second of all, how is it that you are booked all weekend yet you told me that you get off work at 4:30? If you go home, shower, cook and eat dinner, you’re still left with SOME time before the day is over. Don’t try to tell me any different. I know. I work too. So why not save your excuses for someone that actually believes them? Don’t call me anymore until you can learn to be upfront and honest with me. Quite frankly I’m sick of your bullshit. Furthermore, you’re lucky that I have the amount of respect that I do. Because I should be calling you by your first name. The title mother/mom should be reserved for those that are deserving of such a title. It’s cool though. My MIL has done a great job taking your place.
I’m done. I’ve said it a million times. This time I truly mean it. I’m done. No more meeting you in various parking lots around Rhode Island. I’m you’re daughter. I should be welcome into your home. No more waiting on your phone calls. No more trying to cram all that’s going on in my life into a measly five minute phone call. I see what you’re trying to do. Throw a dog a bone, eh? Thanks, but no thanks. You clearly don’t care. So why do you bother? One day I hope to find out what your problem with me is. I’m not a bad person. I’ve always talked to you with respect. Seriously, what the hell is your deal? If I were you I’d deal with it. Ethan is four years old. You’ve only seen him maybe five times. It’s bad that I can count on one hand how many times you’ve actually seen your grandson. Your only grandson. You should feel ashamed of yourself.
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I’ll never understand her or her ways. Sometimes it hurts so much. It’s worse not knowing what I did. What did I do?
Blah! I’m going to get ready for my trip now. My Dad is going to be so surprised when he sees his gift. We got him a Jeter jersey. I told him we had to wait and special order it. He seemed so let down. The look on his face when he sees the jersey at the bottom of his gift bag is going to be priceless. I hid it under the hat. Juan also picked out the coolest birthday card ever. I’ll definitely post photos when I get back. Have a great weekend, everyone!
Do you not want your children to have a good relationship with their grandmother? Just curious. Because they are bound to pick up on the ‘tension.’
Aww Im so sorry Lisa :(
My mom has a mother the same way, and you know I was thinking the other day, she has always called her by her first name, because it just feels so much more fitting, since my gramma was never really a mother to her.
It hurts, im sorry it worked out that way…but hey, you have a good MIL. That’s awesome :)