mama saga

Seriously, sometimes it's like living the movie Groundhog Day. The neediness and constant poke, poke, waaah, waaah, "tell me what to do so I feel better" from my mother is grating.

Dad made the round of phone calls on Sunday night to all of the kids. His time to check in and see how things are going with each of us. When he called, I was at the driving range with Rick [more on that fun later]. So I called him back after we were done. He was on the phone with my sister Marianne and he called me back not too long after.

We talked for maybe 20 minutes. Nothing too interesting. He got a new company car. He's thinking about selling one of the Saturns they own since it's only he and my mom that need to drive and they've got three cars now. And so when we ran out of piddly updates to share, we hung up the phone.

Not more than 30 minutes later, I hear my cell phone ringing. Snuggled up on the couch, I opted not to vacate my comfy position. Whatever it was, it could wait. Five minutes later, some time near 9 pm, the cell phone rings again. I know for a certainty that it's mom. She always keep redialing hoping you might just have a change of heart and pick it up. I didn't.

The next morning, just barely opening my eyes, my cell phone rings again. Good grief, it's not even 7 am yet. It's mom. I still do not answer the phone. I get up and start to get ready for work. At 8:15 am, I'm making breakfast and she calls again. Finally I pick up the phone. Without n'ary a hello, she launches into her miserable woe-is-me speech.

Mom: I'm going to turn myself in.

Me: What for?

Mom: Marianne was talking to dad last night and she said that you said that you were abused. So I need to pay penance and I'm going to turn myself in.

Me: Ugh. Mom, you can't turn yourself in since it's not true. There's no evidence against you. It's not going to do you any good. Besides, do you really think it's best for Richard if you go try to get yourself locked up.

Mom: Well, if I was abusive, then I need to pay for it.

Me: I never said that.

Mom: Well, Dad said that Marianne said.....

Me: [yelling to get her attention] Stop it! You're talking to me, who is supposedly the source of that comment. I'm telling you that I didn't say that. So you need to get over it and go find something else to do today.

Mom: [quiet]

Me: I've got to go to work. You need stop fixating on this. You're only making yourself miserable.

So, does Mom get back to life again? No. Does she stop calling at the crack of dawn? No. The very next morning, my alarm has gone off, but I'm lazily watching the news, still in bed. The phone rings....it's 7:15 am. I pick up the phone.

Mom: Should I not come out to Seattle?

Me: Mom, everyone's coming out to Seattle in August.

Mom: Yeah, but maybe I should just send Dad and Richard.

Me: Why? What's your issue?

Mom: I think that everyone will ignore me. Marianne said that everyone needs to live their own lives, and so maybe it's better that I don't come.

Me: Mom, you're being ridiculous. First of all, everyone does have busy lives, but the fact that every single one of your children and grandchildren will be out here, you should be here. Besides, this isn't about you and whether the center of attention is on you. This is about your opportunity to see each of your kids and grandkids.

Mom: I just don't think anyone wants me to come.

Me: Mom, this is eight months away. You don't need to be stressing about this now. And also, can you stop calling me so early?

Mom: I check the clock before I call. I figured you'd be awake by now.

Me: Yeah, but I need to get ready for work. Wait until I get to the office if you really need to talk to me.

Mom: Fine, I won't call you any more.

Yeah, I've heard that line before.