Lightning Did Not Strike Me!

I went to the counseling session with my mother yesterday at her church (see previous post for explanation). I won't bore my dear readers with a detailed post on every nuance of the meeting. I do have a few gems for you, though. A quick recap: My mother called me because she had a VERY tough summer and wanted me to go to a counseling session with her. I agreed, knowing that it was going to be a "tell my daughter that she's wrong and hurtful" session. I knew it would be good for her to get out whatever was up her ass, and I was interested to see what this professional would have to say.

Gem #1 My mother tells the therapist that when Chicken came home last weekend she expected to have dinner with us that night, and I went out with her ex-husband instead. From the hurt and outrage in her voice, one would have thought that I was fucking the man and the reason for her divorce. The therapist asked if she had communicated with me her expectation of dinner that night. Uh, no. My mom tried to defend herself by stating that it was something we always did. Whatever, bitch. So I told the therapist my side of the story. I've added a bit more background for your reading enjoyment because I didn't feel like spending three hours with the shrink.

Several weeks prior to Chicken's return, my ex-stepdad called to see if we could have dinner on the night of Chicken's arrival. For simplicities sake, I'll call him "Poppa" because that's what Chicken and I call him. Poppa married my mother when I was sixteen. I couldn't stand him when I was a teenager because he bought into my mother's bullshit. Later, he realized who she really was, but was too in love with her to leave her. Poor man. She divorced him two years ago after ruining him financially. Bitch. Poppa will always be my dad. I love him dearly and he is Chicken's grandfather in every way except for genetics. He is supportive of me in every way, and loves me like his own. He has no biological children. So... going out with my mother's ex-husband was her twisted interpretation of "my daughter and grandson went out with Chicken's grandpa instead of me because I didn't ask".

Gem #2 My mother stated that she "needed to let me go and take care of myself because she just can't do it anymore". Unbeknownst to me, my mother has been providing me with free child care for Chicken's whole life and also taking care of me my whole life, and having to be responsible for my actions and clean up the messes that I create. I'm so glad that I attended this therapy session, because I had no idea that this was, in fact, reality. Wow.

I thought that I moved out of the house at 19 after attending a year of college out of state. I'm pretty sure that happened because I still pay this weird student loan bill thingy each month. Maybe I'm dreaming it all. I also thought that I moved to the East Coast at age 21, got married, bought a home and had a baby. I have pictures to prove it, dammit. I did move back to California in 1999 and live with my mother and stepdad for nine months, while paying rent and being their maid. During that nine months my mother did provide child care to Chicken free of charge as I attended college classes. I moved out, and my mother no longer provided child care of any sort to Chicken. Occasionally he would spend the night at her home on the weekend to allow them to spend time together.

In January of 2004, my mother began to watch Chicken while I worked. She had divorced my step-dad (Poppa) and needed more income. I needed child care. I had finished college and entered the financial industry. I was married to H2 and I PAID her to watch my son. She also did some laundry and cooked Chicken dinner on the evenings that I worked late. Did I mention that I PAID her? I also gave her addtional money when she needed it, just because she is my mother. In June of 2005 she said that she needed to "retire" from watching Chicken. It was just too much for her. I was already looking for a replacement as I couldn't take her shit anymore.

Gem #3
My mother asked who I was using to watch Chicken. I told her that it was a man and she just about fucking shit herself right there in the church. I had expected this from her, as all men are evil predators and pedophiles. Women never, ever fuck up children. They are all Saints. The therapist asked my mother "do you think that you could do a better job of selecting someone to watch Chicken?" She replied "Of course, at least I would choose someone from the Church to watch him so that he would be safe". The therapist actually laughed at her. Everyone knows that people that go to church never abuse children. Duh! From my point of view, I had first hand experience with the child care my mother selected for me. Yeah, she kind of sucked ass at that one.

For the record, I am currently using Teddy Bear (H3.2's good friend) for child care. He is kind, loving and a good human being. I trust him with my child. I trust VERY few people with my child, as I know the kind of sickos that are out there in the world. If my mother had acted with Chicken how she raised me, she would have never been allowed around him. However, she is a much better grandmother than a mother. She's just a controlling bitch when it concerns my life and my decisions.

Ending
The moral of the story? The therapist seemed pleased that my mother would no longer be looking after Chicken. She also told my mother that she needed to learn BOUNDARIES and how to give up control and learn to accept my decisions. My mother would have to ASK me when she wanted to see Chicken, as opposed to talking to him on the phone and making arrangement without my knowledge or permission. She said that this would be much harder for my mother than for me. Duh?! I learned some really bizarre, twisted things that my mother thinks are the truth. I feel better about the whole thing. It's really nice to have someone agreed that your mother is a wack job.

Sidenote
I had to fill out some stupid consent form before the session. Under the section "Have you seen a therapist before? If so, please list who and why" I wrote "not enough room". Under the heading "Why are you here today?" I wrote "My mother is insane". I'm pretty sure the therapist will be amused when she reads my responses.