Push Me Pull Me

When I was young, I would just be living my life being what I was: a child.  I was a good girl but still a child.  And seemingly out of the blue I would get in trouble.  I didn’t know what I was being yelled at about; I didn’t know I was being naughty until I was hit with the yelling and scolding.  As I became older in my teens, I would actually say, "I didn’t do anything!" and the reply was "That’s the trouble!"  I know, right?  Whatever that means.  And then when I did do something I knew was naughty, I wouldn’t get in trouble most the time.  I expected to be yelled at and scolded but it just never came.  This always kept me off balance.  I could never figure out how to be the good girl when I didn’t know what was naughty and what was not (which actually helps explain how I got involved in an abusive marriage).

Staying with my mother for the three weeks while she was recovering brought all this back.  I was still yelled at for reasons unknown to me.  So out of the blue she would be angry with me and I found myself reverting to that five, six year old who resented the yelling but didn’t know how to be better.  This made me very sad, sad for me and for my mother.

When I drove down and stayed for nearly three weeks, I brought my pup with me.  Mom loved the dog.  She slipped her bites of food so the dog would love her.  I finally asked her not to feed the pup people food and by that time the pup was sitting beside her, longingly looking at her while she ate. Mom encouraged the pup to come on her lap and the few times she did, Mom was thrilled.  She told everyone who came by how the dog simply jumped on her lap to be petted.  When we left, Mom petted the pup and told me how much she loved us both.  As I called on the way home, she asked about how the dog was doing on the drive.  She loved the dog.

Coming the end of June is my 45th high school reunion.  Doug decided he didn’t want to come but I am going.  I told Mom this yesterday, that Doug wasn’t coming (thus, we didn’t need to get a rental place because Mom’s place is too small for two guests).  I told her I was looking for a hot date for the dinner, that I had asked a few friends but didn’t know if they were going.   She asked if I was flying.  I told her that I was driving.  I had in mind to take the coast highway home and stay with friends in the bay area for a few days.  I didn’t tell her this.  All I said was I was not flying and that the pup and I were driving.  The next word out of her mouth was a very loud, "NO!"

"No?"  I asked,  "No what?"
"Are you taking the dog to the reunion?"
"No, (laughing) I think I can get a hotter date than the pup."

And that was the end of the discussion. We continued talking about her health (which has vastly improved) and then hung up.  But then I started thinking, following that anxious flutter in my stomach…was the "no" about the dog coming or about I shouldn’t take the dog to the reunion?  I asked my sister, who confirmed that Mom no longer likes the dog.  Sis even said to Mom how much she loved the pup while I was there and Mom didn’t have a reply except she didn’t want the dog there.  Sis offered me and the pup to stay at her house.

I am a firm believer that everyone should have the right to say who and what can stay in their home.  Mom has this right as well.  I have no problem with her not wanting my dog at her house.  My confusion and hurt feelings is much like that as a child: you loved my dog and then hate my dog.  No explanation.  No warning.  The dog didn’t DO anything!

And maybe that is the trouble.
peace~~~