Yesterday, I had lunch with my mother. We do not have the greatest relationship, but I met with her about once a month to stave off filial guilt.
Mouse Mother went over the usual things: her search for a teaching job, breaking up with her boyfriend (again), what her church is doing. After a while, I bring up what was going on with Mr. Maven and me, “In a year or two, we want to start a family.”
“That’s great!” Mother said. “From what I’ve seen of Mr. Mave and your brother, you’ll have very intelligent children.”
I smile, I nod, and change the subject. Inside, I’m seething. WTF? I’m just an incubator? Some sick twisted part of me has always wanted my mother to acknowledge that I’m smart, but I should know better by now. :rolleyes: (Quick background: We Mouse_Bro and I were about to enter kindergarden, Mother had our “intelligence” tested. I tested “below average” and Mouse_Bro tested above. Mother loves to brag about how smart Mouse_Bro is. * Yes, I know this is very petty. That’s why I put it in the Pit.*)
I work in organ transplant immunology research Mom!! Before that I worked in pediatric oncology and got listed as an author on an journal publication. I am not stupid. Fuckin’ hell. Lets take a look at things:
Mouse_Maven
Has worked in research for over 5 years.
Gone to school part time, while working full time, for over 5 years.
Has gone to therapy, had adult orthodontia (Thanks for the 20 years of jaw pain), and done other things to improve her life and health.
I think you need the decaf next time. Mothers say stuff like that all the time about the date-mate prospects of their kids re what potential attributes their grand-kids will have. This is really more your psychological issue than some diabolic plot by your mother to disrespect you. That chip on your shoulder is gonna kill unless you take it off.
Meh. I agree that getting over mom’s behaviour is the only way to deal with it. Getting angry every time something like this happens is only going to lead to ulcers for Mouse_Maven.
But, come on. Based on your brother’s smarts and your husband’s smarts, you’ll probably have a good kid. There is definitely subtext there on mom’s part, probably so ingrained she doesn’t even think about it. If she had just mentioned Mouse_Hubby, then maybe you might say she was just showing her admiration for him. But to mention the brother is to say that there is intelligence in the family, though Mouse_Maven doesn’t display it.
This:
“Hey mom, I’m going to have a kid!”
“Well, your brother is good looking, and so’s your husband, so I guess there are good odds that the baby will be too.”
is a far cry from this:
“Hey mom, I’m going to have a kid!”
“Great! Maybe he’ll have your husband’s eyes and rugged good looks!”
I don’t think my mom thinks I’m too smart, either (mainly because I’m not good at arithmetic or organizational skills). I try not to let it bother me, but sometimes it does anyway. It’s no fun.
Yep, gotta settle down. Lots of stress around here of late. I had one nerve left and Mom stood on it.
(I do have a long history of “Mother issues.” Parents had a nasty divorce, father got custody, mother dropped out of the picture for ten years. Felt abondoned. The list goes on. I have had therapy, etc. Right now, the best thing for my mental health is to limit my time around Mouse_Mother and concentrate on other things.)
I’m pretty much going to take your side on this. Parents can sometimes be less than complimentary to their kids, and it sounds like your mom is pretty respectful to the men-folk in your life as compared to her respect for your abilities.
And good job on keeping the lines of communication open - that will be important once the kids come along. Although I wonder if instead of keeping all your frustration inside you were to vent just a little - maybe say to her the things at the bottom of the OP (excect the big FU part). Let her know that one part of spending time with you is her showing you the respect that you’ve earned.
So is your brother going to impregnate Mr. Maven, or will Mr. Maven impregnate your brother?
Seriously, Mouse, you need to let it go in one ear and out the other. You know what your mom is. You know what she can offer and what she can’t. Quit setting expectations she won’t meet. You’re only disappointing yourself.
My MIL can say some very oddly cruel things when she’s drunk. I recognize it, and the last time it happened, my SIL apologized a week later. Honestly, by then, I’d forgotten all about it.
This post has lots of mistakes. When I was previewing it, and trying to decide whether to make corrections or forget the whole thing, the computer blipped and the webpage was no more. Apparently, this did get posted warts and all.
I’m with Ivylass-- I have a mom who also makes exceedingly calculatedly clever passive-aggressive subtle misstatements intended to be pointy but fly beneath the radar, but which don’t because we are smarter than she thinks we are. Drives me nuts, too. But, like the others say, she’s not going to grow up-- she’s already there, and if you’re going to have a mature sane adult relationship. . . well, you might not, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Grin and bear it.
astro, I may be completely off-base, but I’m guessing Maven wouldn’t be anywhere near as pissed… heck, might not even have given it a second thought…
if the line had just been about her husband. What the hell does her brother have to do with anything, other than as her mother’s usual method for sticking it in a particular spot where she knows perfectly well it hurts? One of the reasons it hurts is that she keeps hitting it, and has been hitting it for almost all of Maven’s life!
MavenMom was out for blood and found it. Having put it in writing here may help Maven some day explain to her mother that she HAS to stop hitting that particular key, period. I know some of my mother’s nasty behavior didn’t stop until I explained that This Is Something You Do Not Do slowly and calmly.
Heck, there was even a period where she would poke my left biceps the whole time, I’d complain that it hurt, she’d say I was just being a wuss… until that one day I lifted my sleeve and showed her the black spot. She really had thought it didn’t hurt physically, but watching me jump gave her a sense of power.
Pity my Mom doesn’t speakee English, Maven… we should just throw them together into a pen. And I absolutely have to come over there some day for that meal I still owe you.
Was laughnig about this with my bro last night: as I left my adolescence, I collated all the poems I had written over the previous few years - some utterly shit, but some I still think were rather good - and produced a booklet, with a nice cover, and presented it with pride to my parents. My mother flicked through cursorily for about thirty seconds it then said “oh by the way we got a letter from your brother. He writes such good letters!”, put my booklet down and handed me his letter to read. As far as I know, that was the last time they opened the booklet.
It’s what parents do. I was pissed at the time, but now I just laugh about it, and the myriad other things like that they’ve done.
However, the intelligence is expressed only if the “programming” is not contradicted by the other X chromosome - which, of course, it isn’t in males 'cos they don’t have another X chromosome.
This means that the OP could be an intelligence “carrier”, as it were.
It also means that fathers can’t transmit intelligence to their sons, but only to their daughters and grandchildren.
Although this doesn’t explain why smart dads would have smart sons.
Any more than it explains why I’ve composed a post full of one-sentence (or sentence-fragment) paragraphs.
Parents fuck up their kids. It’s part of the natural order. If mums and dads weren’t so bloody dysfunctional, kids would have nothing to complain about, and imagine what the world would be like without whingeing kids??? It would throw the entire cosmos off’ve it’s axis, I swear.
And just think…when you’ve produced kids of your own, you’ll be able to fuck them up in your own unique way. You’ll have learned what NOT to do from your own parents, but that still leaves you with a million and one other varieties of screw-ups to explore. Heh
My mom, upon dutifully calling her mother every month would always be greeted by this: “Oh, Patty. I thought it was Judy calling.” Judy is my Aunt. My mom suffered a lifetime of “Judy” being the favorite. She just shrugged it off. It’s just not worth getting worked up over.
