It's time for Cat Talk!
Hubby was puttering about the house today when he heard my cat in the kitchen making his "I'm lonely, pay attention to me" noise. He said, "Well, come in here, you stupid cat."
For those who don't know, my cat is probably one of the undead. He lost most of his teeth long ago, his fur has worn off several of his joints and off his ears, and he spent over a year with an hole in his side the size of a quarter that never got infected and didn't heal until we moved. He's a mobile model of a cat skeleton with a thin layer of skin holding it all together, but he hangs in there.
My cat continues to make noises, and Hubby thinks it sounds odd, so he goes to the kitchen to investigate.
There in the kitchen is a full-sized German shepherd that sneaked through the partially open back door and who is now cornered by an old cat with no teeth and who weighs less than the dog's feet. The dog is terrified and whining. Hubby tells it to shoo, but it won't move. Hubby finally picks up my cat, and the dog bolts out the door.
Of course, if I was cornered by a lich-cat, I'd be terrified, too.
They called to discuss flights, and my mom said that what she was saying before, she wasn't angry, she was just...did I understand what I meant?
No, I said, tell me what you mean.
Common sense and common courtesy and all that.
I'm doing fine, I said.
No, I wasn't, she said. If I were doing fine, she wouldn't be hearing only complaints.
I told her my uncle had said he'd told her that I was improving, that I was doing fine.
That wasn't what she was hearing, she said.
Then listen better, I said.
No, she said.
You only ever hear the bad things, I said. You never care about the good things; all you care about are the bad things.
No, she said. When you borrow someone's car, fill up gas.
I've been doing that, I said.
She said that I'd brought the car home with a quarter-tank of gas, and when my uncle had asked why I hadn't filled it up, I'd said it didn't need it.
That was after the F2F. The reason I hadn't filled it up was that A) I was really tired coming home from Deb's house and B) I'd filled up Thursday night knowing I would use up most of the tank over the weekend. I did pay for the gas I'd used. I told her as much.
You do what you want to do, she said, not really meaning it, obviously.
It was kind of an interesting experience attempting to be calm and rational with her. And...not having her care very much.
Hey P-C, one thought; when you're talking with your mother, do
you
ever hear anything but complaints? Does she ever compliment you in any sincere fashion?
Yes. I do hear the few times she's actually proud of me, and they really make me happy. Problem is it's only a day or two before she complains about something and makes me feel like shit again.
but he hangs in there.
And saves the world
from German Shepards
a lot.
My Kittenish has scratched the fur from an ear. I am hoping it comes back but mostly because she's got the softest fur.
It was kind of an interesting experience attempting to be calm and rational with her. And...not having her care very much.
The calm and rational is good. Especially as you can only really control your reactions, not hers. Unfortunately.
Yes. I do hear the few times she's actually proud of me, and they really make me happy. Problem is it's only a day or two before she complains about something and makes me feel like shit again.
Well, that's something. I should note here that in a healthy relationship, the ratio of compliments to complaints should ideally be at least 5:1 or so. I gather that you're on the receiving end of an imbalance here. I don't know how you can address it, though. Well. I have some ideas, but she's not my mother and I don't have to wear the consequences if it doesn't work out. But I hope things improve.
I'm reluctant to comment on the status of other people's sanity for reasons I hope are not overly obvious.
NATLBSB, Typo Boy.
P-C, I'm sorry you're having such a rough time of it. Good for you, for going all calm on her in the second conversation. Any time you can detach like that, work it, baby. There are too many control issues swirling around, here. It also reads as though your mom is taking any less-than-perfect-to-your-uncle interaction you have with your uncle's family as a personal afront to her mothering.
There's got to be some sexism inherent in Indian family culture, right? Assuming there is, make it work for you. Maybe you could ask your uncle if, when you have done something displeasing to him or his family, if he could be the one to talk it out with you, and if you could leave 'the women' out of it, and talk 'man-to-man'. Appeal to his inner patriarchal overlord.
Jilli and Pete, congratulations on the new kitties! Pete can loom (adorably) to keep them in line. (And Ruthven is pronounced "Rivven" right? from the "Verney the Vampire"?)
P-C, if it's any consolation, when I moved out after college (I was 22) my mother threatened that, if I didn't call home at least once a week, she'd report me as a runaway and have me hauled back. She also held most of my stuff hostage to try to force me to go back. Time passed, I got more mature, she got used to me being away, and the relationship is better now. Your mother sounds even more extreme than mine, but things may improve over time. Meanwhile, come here to vent.
edited when the title came to me
