The Matriarch Mess

Your parents are the most important relationship you have, I'd say. From the ground up, the way you relate to them and vice versa directs every other avenue you take in your life. Even the worst of the worst examples of the parental bond have a way of contrasting life so that either, you never pass on any endured unsavory-ness, or you learn enough by it to overcome and be better than they had been.
At times, familiarity breeds contempt, however. It seems that if you're a daughter, no one gets under your skin like your mom, and same for father and son. A same sex parent can be a handful, and I know for a fact they feel the same about us. I have two daughters of my own.

My mother came to stay with me and the fledgling fam over the holidays, a step in the process of moving here permanently. It both chagrins and delights me, the idea was hatched out of a mutual agreement on us being under the same roof for a myriad of reasons. It sounded great in theory, as most theories do. If I didn't sport the Mama Card already, the transition and adjustments might not have been so bumpy as they've frequently been. But I do and they have, all the while, life churning on around us, being effected by our fall out. Shades of how it was in my childhood, cascading back.

I love my mom. I respect her and I appreciate who she is, look up to her in many ways. In the most flattering, emulating the groundwork she laid with me, for my own kiddos. I always did, even when our relationship was nothing to be proud of. So why is it that I mentally flip her off so often, cringe at her insistent instruction? Has my own daughter started doing the same to me, at the tender age of seven? How far off is my eight month old daughter on that? Crap on a cracker, I say. Doesn't seem right or fair. Just flat out contradictory to the very nurturing nature that women posses.

You despise most in others that which you despise in yourself, and that saying makes the most sense when I reflect on shouting matches we have. My mom is an intelligent, stubborn, hard working, persevering lady. She expects the best of people, or at very least, ownership of the worst. I am not far off in those respects, she instilled all of her four children with those traits, painstakingly so at times. They have served us well for the most part, so it's not for naught. I can't speak for my sibs, but in my case, she bristles at me most for being the very way she is to me, back at her. Give it a second, it make sense.
It's my choice to take offense to the manner in which she relates to me, I've been privy to her personality long enough to let it roll of my shoulders, or remember that she means all of it with the best intent. To humor her, as she's earned it.

I understand where she's coming from, and she me. We both agree on most subjects enough to make a go of it, but the select issues we do NOT agree on kind of rip our bond a new one. She's the grandma of my kids, and her job is to spoil them and send them back to me to deal with the less appealing aspects of mothering. That's the perks of having grand kids, I thought. Her stance on that is different, however. She's a teacher and therefor lives to instruct no matter what. It just comes out of her, I notice, even when it violates the treaty du jour. I've asked for boundaries to be honored, and the same of hers in turn. But every few days, we have a go-round that results in sullen, iceberg existences from her or I, or both. We have to fix that, I'm tired of the place where I rest my head also being the place I bang it on the wall repeatedly. In order to do so, I have to ask questions and embrace the answers, no matter what they are.

In all honesty, I do wish that she was still in charge at times. That I was just a cog in the machine, not the systems operator. That I could magically regain my freedom. Party, sleep in and not have to give a rats' ass about anything. Maybe her being in close proximity, it's a constant subconscious reminder of that. With my mom now in my California life, the lines of difference between what I had then and what I have now, are all the more visible. The same for her then. Perhaps seeing me with my little ones, starting out in a new chapter of life at the age I'm at, reminds her that shes' in the latter chapters, even if this endeavor is a new exciting phase itself. And that's a lonely place to be. So it's more familiar/easier to charge ahead than trot alongside. Or maybe we're just both stubborn, used to being in the drivers seat and secretly like a good high stakes debate (as usual, I bet both). What silly creatures us women are, though equally complex and amazing.

To meet in the middle, we have to keep trying to understand each others perspective and be patient. God help us all, the patience. I need to organize my own thoughts and emotions and remember who I am and what's happening in this moment. Who I am, in this moment. Even my lovely mom, who I cherish in her own respect, shan't effect that if I'm for real. I think that's how moms still teach us, into our adult years. I hope to remember all of this in the future, if Logan/Maybel and I are ever in a similar predicament.

Unless there's no reason to, we'll keep trying to allow it to work. Family is the best of reasons to do so, even as they make you want to poke your eyes out with blunt spoons. Just have to roll up our sleeves and clean up whatever spills out.