Mama Mia!

As much as I’ve been talking about my mother-to-be wife, this post happens to be about her mother-in-law, a.k.a. my mother.

Since I got married and moved out, my mother has been sort of on my case about everything. Over the last 2 years, she’s been calling me at the weirdest times, over the tritest of issues. My also-married sister, and even my wife, have said this is her way of keeping her son hers. I just think it bugs me, but before I get lambasted for being an unfilial son, I do have a legit psychological reason. Just bear with me for a paragraph or two.

I think my wife will be a lot clearer about when my mother’s possessive behaviour began, but I’ll just go through some of the weird things that she has done, most of which had to do with phone calls. She’d call me up in the middle of the day while I am in the middle of a crucial website programming bugfix or writing a stern email to someone, and tell me about what she saw in the news (that isn’t even produced in this country) that day, or telling me to not get into credit card debt (which caused a flock of question marks flying around my office cubicle tht afternoon), or telling me my sister had brought a load of baby stuff to her place, and detailing every single thing and what she was planning to do with them before I took them home with me (or not). That last phone call happened Monday night, just after I had spent the whole weekend cleaning the house, so the tiredness in my voice as I stayed on the phone with her did nto translate well.

I know, I know, she’s being Mom, and I’m being a prat. I don’t deny I dread these calls from her.In fact, I fear them. Sometimes I see her number on my phone, I have half a mind to reject the call. Not because I hate my mother, and not because I’m unfilial. I’m afraid of these phone calls because I know what they’re really all about. My mother just wants to connect to a son that suddenly disappeared form her household after almost 30 years of me making noise under her roof. I react adversely because I don’t want to acknowledge that our separation justifies the real reason why she’s calling. I don’t want to admit that we’re drifting apart (I’ve always been a recluse in her home, by the way). And I think she’s having trouble accepting the fact that I’m out here now starting my own family, and she’s being kind of left out of the whole family-starting process (though I think all parties should agree mothers should not participate in the baby-making process, no matter what the situation).

The worst thing is, when we do meet face-to-face once every week or so, she has almost nothing to say to me. She’s too busy cooking, or she’s chasing after my nieces and nephews, or she’s doing this, or she’s doing that. The last few times I’ve been home have been better though; once the kids have gone home, my sisters retreat back into their abodes, and I’m left in my parent’s house with both my parents, we have long talks about what’s to come in my life, and what’s been happening in theirs. But as long as I’ve lived in my mother’s care, I think the both of us know we can’t hold a conversation when it’s just the 2 of us, and we both sort of realise this mother and son have very little in common.

I love my mom, I do. And I know my mom loves me too. I just don’t know how we can love each other in terms that the other can understand. And now I’m wondering what I’ll think if Xander becomes the same prat I am when it comes to his parents.

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