I was thinking the other day (I actually think about it often) about how unfortunate it is that we don’t have more of a connection to extended family. I observe grandparents with their grandchildren at the parks, hear other parents talk about how supportive and helpful their families are, and read on blogs about how close some moms are to their in-laws. And I’m often disheartened that Jeremy and I don’t have that support, never have. Even more disheartening is that the kids don’t have or know that connection. It doesn’t really matter who is at fault for that, if anyone. It’s just a sad situation.

Not only is it sad for our family. It’s hard for me to imagine how big my neice, Mariah, is getting and not being able to participate because she is so far away. She hasn’t got a connection to anyone on her mother’s, my sister’s, side of the family. That’s unfortunate for that sweet little girl, because she’ll hardly know how much she’s loved. Even if I do call. Even if I do send care packages. Even if I do pray for her and think about her all the time. It doesn’t replace having family there.

My neighbors are so wonderful. Aila is a sweet German grandmother and her husband, Terry, is an equally outstanding grandpa. Their kids are our age and live one street away. The kids are always running in Aila’s yard, and I can hear her playing with them, chasing them, etc. She watches the grandkids for her kids at least once every other week, just for a few hours while Mom and Dad go out for a movie or dinner. Aila talks about her daughter in law in such a loving way, and I just can’t relate to that connection because my mother in law and I have always been terrible rivals. Aila said to me the other day, “I love Randy (her daughter in law). I know she probably has some complaints about me, but I have none for her. She’s so wonderful.” And I know Randy as well, and YES she is wonderful. But am I so unlovable that I couldn’t have my mother in law feel that way about me? Am I made of jagged glass and stinging nettle? What’s ultimately burdening about our family dynamics is that I know that Jeremy and his mother would be closer if it weren’t for our constant rivalry. It’s complicated any healing they need to do as mother and son. You would think adults could learn to get along, or stay away from one another, or just to have some common understanding for the sake of peace. But it’s never been that way for us.

Kathryn (my mother-in-law) and I have attempted friendship for all of 5 minutes in 11+ years, and it didn’t work out. She would blame me for that and I would blame her. Then we’ve tried the shallow depthless kindness, the “hello, how are you?” kind of interactions that are distant enough that we don’t have to interact with one another yet pleasant enough that we don’t rip one another’s wigs off. That didn’t work either because, well, it wouldn’t take long before she or I somehow pissed the other one off despite the pleasant, superficial distance. That left us with complete seperation as the only alternative. Well, that works. There’s no bickering, no drama, no nothing. However, there’s that complicated little element: The kids. How am I supposed to find any reasoning behind sending my children to someone’s house that loathes the fact that I even bother to breath air. I’d have to drive my car on my time to a woman’s house that I don’t like, have an indifferent and weird interaction, and leave my children with her knowing she’s not been capable in the past of not meddling or bad mouthing us parents. I mean seriously! I don’t need a break from my children, I rather like having them around. And the kids aren’t exactly having convulsions from grandmother withdrawls either. So with that said, why does it feel so yucky? Maybe because I wish she were like Aila. I wish she were anybody but who she is. And she wishes I were someone else too.  And it’s all very, very weird because I don’t think either of us are horrible people. I’d say we’re good people. And I wish that we would have been friends because I’m sure that we could have added to one another’s life. And she says I have all this horrible karma for keeping her son (who is a grown man and makes his own choices) and her grandchildren from her. But that isn’t at all what I was trying to do! I’m not mean or vindictive. I know how wonderful mothers and grandmothers are, I’ve fucking had those relationships before even if I don’t now. I’d NEVER wish for Jeremy to be motherless or to forget or lose the connection to his childhood that I’ve lost. I’d NEVER want anything but Bella to have a magical and special relationship with Kathryn. But, shit! What am I supposed to do? I’m not going to compromise myself in order for someone to get themselves off at my expense. And if defending myself and setting boundaries for my family means building walls, then that’s just the way it has to be. Why am I the bad guy for that?

Unfortunately it’s not just Jeremy anymore that she has to deal with. It’s me, his partner in life too. It’s 3 children, one of whom isn’t even her “real” grandchild. How much more can I advocate for her, and if you could peek behind the scenes you would know that I have? It just seems like every attempt at reconsiliation we’ve ever had as a family was at the hands of two women that loathe one another. OF COURSE IT WOULDN’T BE SUCCESSFUL!

Could Jeremy have a relationship with her seperate from me? Well, I think so. I don’t see why not. But women are Matriarchs and men need help with this kind of thing. They are bred with different ingredients. They would rather burp and scratch their butts than to talk about things of the heart.   

If she agreed to not bad mouth me to our kids, to be supportive of our family the way it is, then I don’t see why it wouldn’t work for them to reconcile. But there’s nothing I can do to nurture that along. And it hasn’t happened yet. The more time that passes, the harder it is to fix. And so much hurt has gone down in 11+ years. It’s all just very, very unfortunate.

I used to send her paintings from the kids, pictures, etc. I decided upon our last falling out that I wasn’t going to do those things anymore because I’m always the bad guy anyways. She doesn’t see it that I’ve tried to bridge a gap, she only sees that I’m the reason she doesn’t have a connection to her son. Her relationship with Jeremy has nothing to do with me other than I’m his wife and he wants her to appreciate, or at the least respect that. And yet our marriage and closeness… somehow… still… bugs the hell out of her. It bugs her so intensely that she’s rather just blame this all on me, the villianous tyrant that I am, than to MOVE ON to the real deal. The real deal being that her son lives 1 hour away. Her grandchildren are growing up fast. And who gives a flippin’ fuckety about me or her + me. Our relationship (or rivalry) is completely insignificant. It won’t change. Why let it inhibit the things that can?

She’s still his mother, and I know how much depth and history and LOVE goes with that. No one will ever love you as much as your mother. There are so few exceptions to that. Sometimes when I gloat over the kids, when I watch them play, when I feel my heart skip a beat because I. just. love. them. sooooooooooo. sooooooooo. much, I remember that that is exactly the feeling she had (has) for Jeremy. And I respect that. And my defenses drop and I feel a connection to her for a brief second because we have that ONE thing in common. We LOVE our children. She loves Jeremy as much as I love my three, and that? That’s amazing! Because I love him too and I want him to have that! And I wish that truth were enough to bury hatchets and put on a real smile, not a superficial one, one with an understanding and respect that we’ve never had before. Why are things so much easier to say than they are to do? Why are things so complicated? Life is so fargin’ short, y’all. It’s just too short for the silly little things– ego, pride, hurt feelings, meanness.

She doesn’t read my blog anymore because she apparently had her internet disconnected. So, I felt like it was safe to air here again. It’s been on my mind, because mother’s day is coming and I always get a little emotional right before. My mom’s birthday is right after mother’s day, so that contributes to the emotions even more. When I read back over this post it sounds like I’m angry, and maybe I am. I don’t want to be. I wish things were different. They just aren’t. Things just don’t always go the way you want. If they did, Kathryn and I would have spent 11+ years advocating for one another instead. If things went my way, my grandmother would be right next door. My Aunt Elizabeth would know my children. My cousin Chanda’s kids would be playing with Bella and Noah after naptime in the backyard. Mariah would light up when she saw me because she would actually know who I am. My dad would be a grandpa. My mother would BE ALIVE. America would be running on solar power and oil would be an ancient memory. There would be healthcare for everyone, and a GOOD President, and an abundance of food for everyone, and a cure for cancer and AIDS, and all the money we save on energy and on not making bombs would go towards taking care of people and buying everyone at least one pair of designer stilletos. And I’d be telling you a different story, in person, instead of on my blog because you would live closer and we’d be really close buds.

I’d like to end this post with smooth, witty closure. But the babies just woke from their naps and I’ve babbled enough. We’re off to soak up some sunshine!