Tonight I’m being babysat by my mother which is enough to drive anyone to drink.
Whilst I’m feeling betterish and venturing out of bed, I can’t lift anything including BB for a week and the hubster is out tonight for a curry with friends (I’ve urged him to go).
My mum and I have an odd relationship. When I was younger she was extremely controlling and then in my 20s she had a stroke. It was then my turn to move home and look after her. She hated it, which I think is understandable.
In my 30s I’ve moved back out again and established clear boundaries which she constantly ridicules and tries to breach. I’ll then cut her off for a while, soften and let her back in for the cycle to continue. I’ve been receiving counselling for this over the past 5 years on and off.
When we won our wedding last year in the beautiful lake district and my mum refused to go. She believed it was “tacky” because we won it and was angered the date of the wedding was 9 weeks after my nephew was born to the favoured sister. She knew we had been given the date of the wedding, it wasnt our personal choice.
When I told her we were continuing with the wedding and we understood her wishes and if she didn’t want to come she sulked for 3 months and wouldn’t speak to me. It was only at the intervention of my lovely God mum that she came (my godparents said they wouldnt speak to her again if she didn’t come).
She thinks me not drinking is absolutely ridiculous (a direct quote) and uses it to ridicule as well as the comments about my weight. When ever I call her out on her comments, she plays victim or tells me I’m being over sensitive or overly dramatic. Or just denies the situations have happened. Even if its on text.
At first I believed it was my perception or it was something I’d done wrong. But with help of a therapist and my husband seeing it with his own eyes (he calls it unbelievable), I now see it for what it is. Toxicity.
I’m determined BB never grows up in that environment and due to the way she’s behaved on the 5 times she’s had her the last year (taking her out in December with no socks or coat, forgetting to feed her for 2 hours past her feed time because in her mind routines are ridiculous- BB was having a meltdown or the last time when she woke up at night feeding her biscuits- we don’t give BB refined sugar), she’s not trusted to have her.
So that’s my Friday night. Wish me luck. I didnt even mean to write all this but started writing and out came the word vomit sorry.
Hows everyone spending theirs?