I am a bad daughter
So today I finally took care of the one task that I have been dreading -- telling my mother about my move. I guess I should give you some background so that you can understand.
About ten years ago my mother retired and moved to Mexico. Her house in the Bay area stood empty for a year or two. Why? Because at that time I was living in a fabulous apartment in San Francisco. I would go and check on the house once a month. Then I got the deluded idea of moving back into the house. I had recently changed jobs and it was a shorter commute from the house. It was supposed to be a temporary thing.
I woke up one day last fall and realized that this temporary thing had lasted for eight years. In that time period I had noticed a marked decline in my social life. (OK. So part of it was that many of my friends had gone off and gotten married during those years. I guess I could have too. Well, I did have the opportunity to do so once, but that's another story.) I also came to the realization that my mother has a way of trying to undermine anything that she perceives may take me away from my house-sitting duties.
House-sitting ... well there's a major bone of contention. My mother has always believed that she is doing me a huge favor by letting me live in the house. (She reiterated this today as she screamed in the phone at me.) I have always seen it as more of a symbiotic relationship. We both get something out of it.
After much screaming -- on my mother's part -- it comes down to I have until April 12 to get all of my stuff out of the house and to clean it. I assured her that I had every intention of doing this. Oh, and the reason for that deadline is that is when my mother returns to the house for a quick vacation. Did I fail to mention that? See, the real fun of the living situation is that my mother returns whenever she wants, for as long as she wants. It is her house after all. I, in turn, get the thrill of changing my life or getting yelled at if I fail to do so. Last September it escalated to her doing things like unplugging the garage door opener so that I could not get back in. And she wonders why I wanted to move?
At least the worst is over. Now I just have to concentrate on packing, unpacking, and cleaning. Oh ... and I am planning on throwing myself a housewarming party in a few weeks. I have purposefully planned it for a date on which I know my mother will be present. It's her choice if she wants to show up. I hope to take loads of pictures that day too. Yes, Gloria, I will post the pictures at that time.
About ten years ago my mother retired and moved to Mexico. Her house in the Bay area stood empty for a year or two. Why? Because at that time I was living in a fabulous apartment in San Francisco. I would go and check on the house once a month. Then I got the deluded idea of moving back into the house. I had recently changed jobs and it was a shorter commute from the house. It was supposed to be a temporary thing.
I woke up one day last fall and realized that this temporary thing had lasted for eight years. In that time period I had noticed a marked decline in my social life. (OK. So part of it was that many of my friends had gone off and gotten married during those years. I guess I could have too. Well, I did have the opportunity to do so once, but that's another story.) I also came to the realization that my mother has a way of trying to undermine anything that she perceives may take me away from my house-sitting duties.
House-sitting ... well there's a major bone of contention. My mother has always believed that she is doing me a huge favor by letting me live in the house. (She reiterated this today as she screamed in the phone at me.) I have always seen it as more of a symbiotic relationship. We both get something out of it.
After much screaming -- on my mother's part -- it comes down to I have until April 12 to get all of my stuff out of the house and to clean it. I assured her that I had every intention of doing this. Oh, and the reason for that deadline is that is when my mother returns to the house for a quick vacation. Did I fail to mention that? See, the real fun of the living situation is that my mother returns whenever she wants, for as long as she wants. It is her house after all. I, in turn, get the thrill of changing my life or getting yelled at if I fail to do so. Last September it escalated to her doing things like unplugging the garage door opener so that I could not get back in. And she wonders why I wanted to move?
At least the worst is over. Now I just have to concentrate on packing, unpacking, and cleaning. Oh ... and I am planning on throwing myself a housewarming party in a few weeks. I have purposefully planned it for a date on which I know my mother will be present. It's her choice if she wants to show up. I hope to take loads of pictures that day too. Yes, Gloria, I will post the pictures at that time.
posted by Dagny @ 4:48 PM
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