Shouts out to my original blog 1derkidmeltdown on Blogspot, where I used to tell all my damn business. Let’s take it back now, play me some pimpin’ mayne

Mood: Grindmode

That’s it. Set the atmosphere

I woke up to the following text from my mother last Wednesday.

This random text chain is from my mother to my younger brother and me. Not a week before Mother’s day and she was already on her bullshit. In her honor, This Mother’s Day post is dedicated to Mothers who hate their children but they can’t kill them so they purchase insurance policies and pray for the worst. If you are a fan of self loathing mixed in with just a pinch of Munchausen, read on.

For starters, I’m pretty sure the number she is texting for my brother is an old number. This could be accidental but I would not be surprised if it were not.

You see, my family has a long history of nice-nasty interactions with me. For example, I spent some time in South Florida in my twenties. I went for a relationship that didn’t pan out but stayed for a while working as a server and bartender. I would go for years not hearing from family, even when I called them, there usually was no answer or the contact would be brief. Then 2012 rolled around and while we was watching for the Mayan calendar to roll over on us, my family, newly friended on Facebook, made war on me. They saw pictures of me at the bar I worked at, pictures of me in a bikini, read my bio and concluded I had renounced Christ and was living as a godless, unmarried, heathen of a hippy posting messages about love and togetherness as if that would save my soul from eternal damnation

It was more than anyone should bear, really; your child growing up to be someone you do not like. And while we could fake a relationship on the phone, when I moved back home, the veil was lifted in their years-long war against my iniquities.

And the war wages on

She knows I’m struggling financially now, but she refuses conversation where I can share what is going on. She will dominate the conversation with churchy words and platitudes until you avoid talking to her altogether.

My mom is a bit dramatic.

She’s in no crisis. She is newly married, living in her husband’s home. She works full time but she also spends money like nobody’s business, I’m talking about 2 breast enhancement surgeries, all the shoes, clothes, and purses any woman could want and she just bought a new car. She now vacations in Florida regularly. Stunting to keep up with the Joneses. Not bad for an immigrant with no college degree. Don’t cry for her Argentina

My response

I kept it cool but I gave her a piece of my mind. It’s a conversation we have skipped over many times. She is always saying how smart I am and I am quick to point out, smart isn’t the only way to win in life. There are tons of smart people working in retail while some kids play video games and earn their salary in 1 day. Who’s the smart one in that scenario?

African parents, am I right? All she knows is, be a doctor, be a nurse, or marry rich. I’ve heard most foreign parents are similar to her. She feels I am too Americanized, which is wild considering I was the anchor baby, hell she used my social to turn on her utilities when I was a baby and I’ve had fucked up credit since, but I digress

WOOSAH….

The texts go on, she tries to clean up her statement but I stay on her, she moves on to praise and reassurance. She never affirms my career choice in being a writer, she instead insists that she will retire at my house because she knows I will take care of her, I had to pull out the big guns