I suppose today is a day when it’s appropriate to make with the sentimental hoo-hah and tearful “thank you, oh mother, for giving birth to undeserving little old me while you were squatting in the rice paddies underneath the broiling sun, blah blah blah” types of rubbish. Not me, Zelda. Let me be the first to say, “I HATE YOU MOM.” I hate you for sending me to my room just as “WKRP” was coming on. I hate you for limiting my Pepsi intake to less than six a day. I hate you for all that crap you cooked and served us for dinner for all those years–I wouldn’t feed your cooking to a starving mongrel unless it was to put him out of his misery. I hate you for Easter Sunday 1975 and that ridiculous goddam outfit you made me wear-that’s why I’m crying in the picture you pathetic dimwit. I hate you for nagging me at the dinner table about keeping my elbows off the table like it would ever make a stupid difference for the rest of my life. I hate you for making me go to mass every Sunday instead of letting me stay home to watch cartoons. Why did you have to make my life so miserable? Why did you have to be so cruel? Mothers Day? Cram it, loser.
My god, Torgo! I came here with the intention of starting this thread! But I think I have a bit more of an ax to grind.
My mother gave me consistently bad advice.
My mother made me an outsider in my own home.
My mother played my dad and me against each other, so she would be the good cop.
My mother made every effort to keep me dependent on her. At the same time, she expected an adult level of maturity.
My mother made me pay, over and over, for my sisters’ mistakes.
My mother told me repeatedly that she would be happily divorced from my dad if they didn’t have me, so I owed it to her to be the perfect child. (There are so many single moms on this board whose kids seem to be happy. She could have made it.)
My mother used to do something I called “blitzkrieg”, where she would scream nonstop, incoherent abuse at me until she broke my spirit.
My mother blew a gasket over every academic shortcoming, but academic achievements were acknowledged with “Good.”
My mother did not listen to me. I don’t mean when she happened to be exceptionally busy; I mean as a matter of course.
My mother did almost nothing in the way of housecleaning. I didn’t want to live like white trash, so I cleaned up. She would scream at me to leave that alone, “you’re messing up my system!” I guess leaving a roasting pan full of fat in the oven from Sunday to Thursday is part of a system.
My mother made it so that my problems were my problems, and her problems were also mine.
My mother screamed or cried, literally like a baby, if things didn’t go her way.
My mother made it difficult for me to have friends (criticizing them to their face, refusing to let me join a youth group), then berated me for being unpopular. Why couldn’t I be Miss Apple Blossom, like she was?
My mother…ah hell, I’ll just post this now. Further additions if I think of them.
Feel better, Torgo?
My Mom’s got cancer. I visited her in the hospital today.
It hasn’t been a good year for us…
**Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! **Wherever you are. All I got was your voicemail.
Why do you think I got you the cell phone? Because you live in your car. But you have to keep it charged.
I’m sorry to hear about your mother, Bosda.
But what I said about my mom still stands. C’mon, someone’s gotta have a worse mom than mine! Let’s hear it!
I am reminded of the line from South park:
When one kid says his mother hurt him with a clothes hangerwhen she was still pregnant, the other kid tells him,
Man you’re fucked up!!
Seriously, I am happy you didnt end up a junky…
Well, my Mom kicked the bucket about five years back, so I figure I’ve saved about $12.87 on cards and postage.
Torgo, I assume you were being faceteous? I mean, she’s a bitch because she wouldn’t let you drink more than 6 Pepsis a day? Well, then all moms are bitches then!
My mom is a mixed bag. Mostly, she’s great. But when I was a kid she was screwed up. But…she got better. Amazingly, she actually got better. She made this transformation after my dad died…I think she realized that without him around to be a buffer for her bullshit, she’d better clean up her act. And she did, a lot.
I like to think of her as this (go back to old sit-coms for these references): My mom is part Donna Reed, part Lucy, part Morticia Addams. Scary, huh? But she’s lots of fun.
Bosda, I am so sorry to hear about your mom. All our good wishes are with her.
Reading these posts makes me sad…
I think I’ll leave the scary pit now.
Rilchliam, you are not alone in having a shitty mom.
<major snip>
I was typing this whole long page of really true stuff about my mom, and it was so awfull I could not post it.
So I’ll just restrain my comments to say this: If you have a good mom, please appreciate it! Remember to tell her, ect…
Because not all of us have a mom that can be appreciated, or even thought of too fondly.
My mom’s celebrating Mother’s Day in Las Vegas. I didn’t even know she was going until my sister told me.
I sent my grandmother, mother, mother-in-law, and two sisters flowers for Mother’s Day. Wanna know who called me? My sisters and mother-in-law. My mother didn’t even bother to get on the phone. She just said thanks in the background.
My mother was very involved in the church when I was younger. I would ask her “What good is it to show other people God’s love if you can’t even show your own children?”
My mother constantly did things for my older sisters all the while neglecting me and my brother. From the time I was 11, I did all the cooking and cleaning for us.
Mother would call my sister and invite her to go shopping and as an afterthought would say “Oh Brenda, you wanna go too?”
My mother would buy my sister expensive clothes and get me things from Goodwill or if I was lucky, something on sale.
My mom never congratulated me on a single gift, award, or recognition I received in school. I was almost late to my own high school graduation because my mom and sister went out shopping to buy something nice to wear to the ceremony. I waited in the doorway crying because I thought they weren’t going to get there in time. I managed to arrive and get in line just as the group was entering the stadium.
My mother was so unapproachable that I never talked to her about my period, sex, or that my cousin was touching me in ways that were bad.
My mom would spank me if I talked too much or said too much about the family. Especially to people outside the family.
Mom taught me some things too. She taught me that I can’t depend on anyone except myself. If I want something, I have to do it myself. She taught me to manage my money because I can’t go to them when I need help. And, my mom lets me carry the burden of the entire family. Even when all I want is to have someone think of me sometime.
Oh I forgot my favorite one.
When I was dating my (now)husband, my mom said “I hope Brian breaks up with you because he’s too good for you!”
youre own mother said that!?!
That is so sad…
I would have slapped the bitch…
I think we all have the same mom!
My mom told me that when I thought I was ready to leave the nest she would be proud of me. I left, and had a child, and one on the way when I had to move back in until I could find a bigger apartment. She hated my sons father and so when we made the big move she tried to have my daughters father take her away from me because I didn’t move out under her conditions.
Shortly after that she tried to set my sister up with my daughters father so she could keep his money in the family.
She slept through my childhood, and never made it to plays, or ball games.
We had a number of “Uncles” running around.
She would leave as soon as my step-father would go to work and come home shortly before he got home. Leaving me to raise my brothers and sister.
She abandonded us twice.
She is a prescription pill popper. If it will make you drowsey she will take it. We still have to hide medication when she comes over.
The list goes on, as I am sure that many others do.
Has anybody else read the book “A Child Called IT”? I read it in three hours and cried through the whole thing. I strongly suggest it to anyone who has been through hell, or not.
Everyday I do things for my children and realize that my mother was never there. I bake treats for five classrooms, my step-daughter and her siblings included. I volunteer for everything, and I spend time with them as much as possible.
I realized after what happened to me over the last few months with my sick son, and the other son getting hit by a car, that children can be gone in seconds! They cannot be replaced.
I called my mom for mothers day at 10pm so I knew it would be short. She pulled her usual sweet as sugar on this wonderful day for mothers, but that doesn’t make up for forgotten birthdays and horrible words. I love her don’t get me wrong, but what I was emotionally put through is sometimes hard to swallow.
Nuff’ said. Thank you for listening to my mini-rant.
Next…
{{{{{{{{{{{group hug}}}}}}}}}}
Oh my.
I sometimes thought my mom went a little too far and was a bit controlling. Guess I was wrong, wrong, wrong. Sorry mom. Thanks for sharing, you guys.
Damn, I’m crying.
would you rather have not been born?
I know I’m not really happy about some of the things my parents did.
One thing still comes back to me. They did their best. My parents may have messed up sometimes. They loved me.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am happy with being me. I’m glad my parents didn’t get rid of me. I’m glad I knew them. I’m going to lose them far to fast anyway. Right now I miss them. My dad was in an accident, and my mom is hurt. No matter how much they hurt me, not matter how much they fucked up. I’m still glad they exist. I love them for the sacrifices they’ve made just to make me happy.
Even the rest of you selfish bastards out there should be happy enough you’re alive. So you can have your pity parties.
I’m leaving I’m ashamed of you.
Except for a few e-mails in the past two weeks, because of the situation with my sister and her children, I have not communicated with my mother in any form in three and a half years.
She is a selfish, controlling person who crossed the line too many times for me. Many of the things I’ve found out in recent years have nothing to do with my mother and me personally (except for when I was less than one and my sister was two, my father was overseas, and my mother left us with our grandparents in Ohio to have an affair in Massachusetts. Wonder where my sister gets it from?), but many do.
After my parents were divorced, my mother made it her mission in life to destroy the relationship between my father and his children. Often, she did it in a passive-aggressive manner by just talking about what a terrible, horrible person he was (which usually included the words “asshole” and “Jew”). Other times, she did it in direct ways: destroying mail from my father to us, not telling us he called, telling us we didn’t get birthday cards or gifts after she intercepted them, things like that.
About 3 years after the divorce, she moved in with a man. Her divorce agreement specified that any cohabitation would result in termination of alimony. So, she took on a fake address and lied about it. And had my sister and I lie as well, which we were all too ready to do, since by this time, she had us hating our father.
Then she pulled the best stunt of all. Allegedly in order to avoid the slowdown caused by the domestic relations service in our county, she and my father decided that he would start sending her the alimony and child support checks directly, she would take them to the courthouse and register them as sent, and then cash them. After about three months, she stopped taking them to the courthouse. She then started telling us kids that he wasn’t making payments, and even took him back to court. (This, for people who have seen my tangles with Melin in the past, is why I have severe doubts about aspects of the “deadbeat dad” epidemic.)
Next, she began intercepting the checks my dad was sending for my college education and using those, too.
Needless to say, she got caught. My dad used an investigator to find out where she lived, and spent two years compiling a case against her. He also saved every single cancelled check. He, of course, won a judgement against her; he may never see a cent from her, but he’s been vindicated.
One of my most vivid memories is of sitting in the lobby of the Lake County Courthouse at age 17 or so. My mother had my sister and me ready to testify in front of a referee about my father missing payments and being a bad father. We sat on a bench together in tears, while my father stood across the lobby with his lawyer, not speaking to us.
My mother so poisoned me against my father that I changed my last name almost the minute I turned 18, to her maiden name, which she reverted to after the divorce.
My father and I have reconciled over the last 6 years or so, but it’s been a tough road. We had to overcome 10 years of lies and misconceptions about each other’e behavior. I can forgive my mother (and have, partially) for the things she’s done, but I cannot forget them and I certainly, at this point in my life, cannot interact with her.
Wow. Um, wow.
After reading this thread I really want to go give both my parents a big hug for not being creeps.
Uke:
Wow! $12.87? You obviously thought more of your mother than I did of mine.
Mom died in October '94. While I disagreed with almost everything that came out of her mouth, I still sometimes wish that she were around to see my daughter, and to realize that I’m not screwing her up nearly as much as dear old Ma always feared. Plus, I enjoyed having someone around with whom I could get into a screaming match, and win.
Waste
Flick Lives!