Telling my Mother to Butt Out

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I learned a long to time ago not to let my mother call anyone for me.

In sixth grade I came home crying because a boy, who had been teasing me all year, had taken my library book then slide across the floor on it like a skate board.

At the time I was a little afraid of librarians. One I had in Elementary school once threw things at me because an eraser got lodged in the book as I pulled it from my back back as I asked to renew it.

Anyway, I came home crying. My mother happened to be there. I remember begging her to do nothing. She called the principal.

Too bad the principal was this boy’s Uncle.

I got sentenced to “special time” with other mentally disturbed kids where I was “evaluated” every other day. I was repeated ask to bring home forms for my parents to give permission for me to be transfered to various “helpful places”. I learned to forge my mother’s name. Later I learned they never talked to my parents about me.

Mostly we colored and talked. It was a lot of crap.

After sixth grade the principal left and they began experimenting with mixing 7th and 8th graders together. No more nut-job time but lots of teasing and I got to go to 8th grade twice while skipping 7th grade. That’s a whole nother weird story.

So my mother, who is trying to help in her own twisted way, called my Aunt to talk to the real estate agents who are giving me a hard time about my house not being cleaned by professionals yet. Since yesterday was and extremely upsetting dayCan’t say why yet…I promise there will be a whole blog post about it when this is settled., my mother’s declaration of calls ended with me screaming at her on the phone…frantically calling my aunt then apologizing to J. for all the drama. (He was incredibly sweet about the whole thing and got lots of hugs.) I don’t handle stress well. You should how bad it gets if I don’t take my thyroid medication.

Sigh.

Related posts:

  1. CoV: A Mother and Daughter Project
  2. Oh My God My Butt Hurts
  3. It was a happy Mother’s Day
  4. May You Be the Mother of a Hundred Sons: A Journey Among the Women of India by Elisabeth Bumille
  5. School Lunch Stupidity.

3 thoughts on “Telling my Mother to Butt Out”

  1. *huggles* I’m glad J is so understanding – it helps when you have someone in your corner.

  2. I am guessing you were able to retrieve Pepper. I hope so. Sounds like things are slowly coming together. I hope they continue to do so.

  3. Pepper actually went to a new home. It was amazing…the lady and her daughter came to the house. I had to catch Pepper twice but once I finally brought her to the girl she sat quietly in her lap and let her pet her. She did not try run at all.

    I have heard from them since…the cat is happy and follows the girl around house. She just wasn’t my cat.

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