If you read my sister's blog you know my mom moved to the town that we live last Friday. If you have read my blog for any amount of time you know my mom is a complete wack a doodle. I really believe my mom has a personality disorder, which means she is really, really irritating.
Having worked in the mental health profession for the last 9 years or so I can tell you that any therapist, or counselor or whoever, hates working with personality disorders because they are typically difficult people to deal with and unlike someone who has say, has an anxiety disorder, they don't think there is anything wrong with them.
My mom really believes that the most mundane details of her life should be extremely interesting to you and she will take 30 minutes to tell you a detailed story about how, for example she went to Wal-Mart to buy an ironing board, AND she will tell the story over and over and over and over and over. I'm not sure if all the drinking she did affected her memory so maybe she forgot she told you the story the first elebenty billion times BUT even if you tell her you already heard the story she will continue to tell it to you, without leaving out any of the details.
I am really trying to give her a break because I know at this point she is trying to do the right thing, but damn the women makes me crazy. Teddy and I took her to the grocery store last weekend and I am STILL annoyed at what she bought. I know that a normal person could care less about what some other person chooses to buy at the grocery store but I have spent almost a week being annoyed. She had absolutely no food in her house and she bought a pack of generic white bread and a package of generic bologna. I know you are thinking "SO WHAT?", well I know, and you are right but it makes me crazy.
She will actually buy food to EAT from the dollar store. She refuses to eat anything that is even remotely healthy and she won't even try it (and it isn't like she does it because she is poor, she just bought a 32 inch LCD TV). I'm not really sure why this is the thing that I am focusing on right now, maybe because it is easier than focusing on the fact that she was a crap mother for the last 15 or so years. I think I also partially blame her for the fact that I was fat most of my life. I know she didn't put food in my face and make me eat it, but she bought the food and it was typically crap. Once I told my husband and his brother a story that I thought was sort of funny about how when I was in high school there was about a week period where the only things edible to eat in the house were a box of fat free saltines and a crate of oranges my dad bought from some boy scouts or something. They were more horrified than amused and I realized that wasn't really a normal thing to feed your kids.
Anyway, she is here now and I have to go to her house and help her move her furniture. I am just hoping I don't end up having a seizure from all the ugly ass shit she has in her house and that she thinks is nice, for example a glittery red lobster with Christmas lights on it and a Jeep shaped cake pan she hung on the wall. Wish me luck.