My mom arrived on November 7th. I realize she had to purchase a plane ticket for a specific date, and that I was due November 10th. Mom has off of work through Thanksgiving weekend. I was EXTREMELY concerned about her coming, as we have a relationship that can be described as difficult at best. I had a HUGE meltdown the night before she came, and then again when her plane was in the air. I didn't want her here, she was coming anyway, blah blah blah. My dad does ALL of the cooking, always has. My mom has arthritis and diabetes, and I live in a two-story house. It's pretty clear to me that she's coming for HER, not for me.
Well she arrived and things have been pretty okay. I realized that in the last few years, I have only seen my mother at big family events, and her event-triggered anxiety is so extreme that she's incredibly difficult to be around. It was actually kind of nice the first few days she was here - I forgot that non-anxious mom can be pretty great. She's a really nice person, and really tries her best to help people. It's just that her ways of helping don't always coincide with what the recipient actually needs, and that's why I was worried about her being here.
Well now she's been here for 9 days and there's no baby, and it's starting to get a little dicey on the homefront. I've taken to hiding in my room when I'm not at work, and secretly begging the baby to come out and be our buffer. Which in turn makes me feel like a horrible daughter for not hanging with my mom. But her presence here is a constant reminder that I'm still pregnant at 41 weeks.
And the cooking. Wow. God love her, but it's pretty rough. She bought a taco kit - burned the crispy shells, and decided that 7 minutes wasn't enough for the flour tortillas, so she cooked them for 12 minutes, thereby resulting in flour frisbees. They were edible, but tostada-like at best. I asked her why, in her infinite wisdom, after not cooking a taco kit for 15 years, she would think the box was WRONG and her way was RIGHT. That doesn't even make sense!
And she's also started losing control over her foot-in-mouth disease, resulting in such hysterical comments as:
"Honey, I don't think you understand just how much blood and stuff there's going to BE." Okay, A, yes, I do, I've read nearly 500 birth stories and watched about 100 on YouTube, thank you very much. And B, WHO SAYS THAT TO SOMEONE RIGHT BEFORE THEY GIVE BIRTH?!@?!
Overheard while Mom was on the phone to Aunt: "She's gotten HUGE these last few weeks! You should SEE how big she is!!!"
I have struggled with my weight all my life, and I vowed to never again be over 200 lbs, and today I was 200.5 lbs. But that's only 18.5 lbs for the whole pregnancy! So while I know she means my BELLY and not ME, it's still just something you don't say to a pregnant person.
"My friends and I have decided that if I'm REALLY freaking out, I should just call 9-1-1...better safe than sorry."
I have since warned the midwives and the doulas, and made Mom promise to at least pull one of them aside, OUT OF MY EARSHOT, and express her concern before calling 9-1-1.
And my personal favorite (also overheard to Aunt):
"Boy, I sure hope I'm strong enough to get through this."
When I later explained to her that *I* am the one who needs to be strong, followed closely by her granddaughter who must somewhat traumatically make her way earthside, she told me it's awfully hard to see your child in pain. While I understand that may be true, I think this comment may have been best dropped outside of my range of hearing.
Thank you for listening, and providing a much-needed diversion from the "Did you have the baby yet?" madness.
Well she arrived and things have been pretty okay. I realized that in the last few years, I have only seen my mother at big family events, and her event-triggered anxiety is so extreme that she's incredibly difficult to be around. It was actually kind of nice the first few days she was here - I forgot that non-anxious mom can be pretty great. She's a really nice person, and really tries her best to help people. It's just that her ways of helping don't always coincide with what the recipient actually needs, and that's why I was worried about her being here.
Well now she's been here for 9 days and there's no baby, and it's starting to get a little dicey on the homefront. I've taken to hiding in my room when I'm not at work, and secretly begging the baby to come out and be our buffer. Which in turn makes me feel like a horrible daughter for not hanging with my mom. But her presence here is a constant reminder that I'm still pregnant at 41 weeks.
And the cooking. Wow. God love her, but it's pretty rough. She bought a taco kit - burned the crispy shells, and decided that 7 minutes wasn't enough for the flour tortillas, so she cooked them for 12 minutes, thereby resulting in flour frisbees. They were edible, but tostada-like at best. I asked her why, in her infinite wisdom, after not cooking a taco kit for 15 years, she would think the box was WRONG and her way was RIGHT. That doesn't even make sense!
And she's also started losing control over her foot-in-mouth disease, resulting in such hysterical comments as:
"Honey, I don't think you understand just how much blood and stuff there's going to BE." Okay, A, yes, I do, I've read nearly 500 birth stories and watched about 100 on YouTube, thank you very much. And B, WHO SAYS THAT TO SOMEONE RIGHT BEFORE THEY GIVE BIRTH?!@?!
Overheard while Mom was on the phone to Aunt: "She's gotten HUGE these last few weeks! You should SEE how big she is!!!"
I have struggled with my weight all my life, and I vowed to never again be over 200 lbs, and today I was 200.5 lbs. But that's only 18.5 lbs for the whole pregnancy! So while I know she means my BELLY and not ME, it's still just something you don't say to a pregnant person."My friends and I have decided that if I'm REALLY freaking out, I should just call 9-1-1...better safe than sorry."
I have since warned the midwives and the doulas, and made Mom promise to at least pull one of them aside, OUT OF MY EARSHOT, and express her concern before calling 9-1-1.And my personal favorite (also overheard to Aunt):
"Boy, I sure hope I'm strong enough to get through this."
When I later explained to her that *I* am the one who needs to be strong, followed closely by her granddaughter who must somewhat traumatically make her way earthside, she told me it's awfully hard to see your child in pain. While I understand that may be true, I think this comment may have been best dropped outside of my range of hearing.Thank you for listening, and providing a much-needed diversion from the "Did you have the baby yet?" madness.
" Ummmm, for who? Not me! 
I was and am pretty peeved that she announced my birth in such a negative light to others. I didn't think it was traumatic- difficult, yes, but not traumatic. But then again, that's why they call it labor, right??? 
And yes, no one should tell a woman about to give birth how messy it is, regardless.
You're almost there, little mama.
My LO is actually cracking me up that she's staying in so long...it's like she and I are in a secret conspiracy to ruin mom's travel plans. That's so mean. But it's still making me laugh. 
On the other hand, you seem to be doing really well seeing the humor of the situation--at least when you tell us about it, if not the moment it happens.
