(no subject)

Momzilla visits soon.

I’ve quietly shelved expectations that I’ll escape unscathed. I have no expectation that she’ll be a nice human to me for the duration. She’s nice to everyone ELSE, but she saves those sucker punches for me, the emotional blow that hits me when I falter or mis step or somehow fail to meet some unspoken demand.

I mean, mine are realistic. Spend time with your grandson. Be nice. I can’t get any simpler than that.

But at some point if i’m less than perfect, she’ll use that to take me aside and tear me to shreds. Its never in front of anyone, its whispered cutting remarks, and backhanded comments and they’re sharp as razors.

And in a way, knowing that the odds are high that this will happen has shifted the peace for me, and I’m just embracing the reality, and moving on.

Sort of.

I’m really only playing along as Oma’s around and once she passes and her will wraps up, it’s zero contact. I mean, my mother bitches about communication but she doesn’t bother to muster a reply to us ever. She doesn’t call or skype. She doesn’t put any effort in.

And I’m mostly looking at this trip as it sets the tone for the relationship going forth. Either I get treated with the same kindness and so does my son, or we’re done. I’m not going to take the cutting remarks anymore. I don’t have to.

To offset seasonal depression, even as I do bike 10km a day most days, I’ve added vit. D to my regimen, as it seems most do here. It might be helping?

That previous post of mine was unravellingly cathartic, and as I scrubbed the house, R’s become more concientious of chores.

I am looking forward to seeing my stepdad, who is generally a NICE guy. But..mom? I don’t know.

Lets not speak much of R’s mom, who scolded me for staying up late to talk with adults. The woman turned on me the instant S was born.

Yrgh.

I love where we live, and I love my life here, and whatever happens they cannot take that.