Parents / Childhood / Issues

Was having a conversation with my sister on the weekend about our mother and it kind of relates to what Imelda was saying about her little boy and the worries she is having. My sister is pissed off at mum because she favours my brothers little girl over her 2 girls and she makes it so blatantly obvious that she does.

When my parents decided to have a third child, they wanted to space us all out so there would be a 2 year gap between each of us, at this point you probably need to ref to the title of this blog… for some unknown reason they just couldn’t get pregnant.

They finally gave up trying and dad went & bought himself a new 2 door Jag as a consolation prize (as you do) and sure enough, Murphy’s Law once again proves its worth – a week later my mum came home and announced she was pregnant.

Dad was a little upset that she made him sell the car.

My sister was 6 & my brother was 8 when I was born. Most 6 year olds come home from school & play with dolls.. my sister came home and raised me.

I should point out at this stage that there was no reason for my mother to work, they could afford a cleaning lady, an ironing lady etc No, my mother chose to work.

My parents were excellent at providing what is called the ‘first level of care’ – food, shelter, health care, toys etc but they kind of bombed on the 2nd level of care. My dad, reserved as he is actually did better then my mum but I don’t think that’s saying much. She is not a cold woman – please don’t think that, but I don’t know if my mother ever actually feels anything very deeply whereas I am a very emotional person (as is my sister, although she’s a bit more fiery then I am) and I think that makes her quite uncomfortable most of the time.

I know they love me (although I was very dubious about that for many years) but they never made the effort to understand me as a person or to see me as an individual. Each of us was pigeon holed and then dismissed – my brother was the ‘smart one’ my sister was the ‘beautiful one’ and I was the one ‘who can sing’.

My brother is my mother favourite – the sun shines out of his ass and everything he says & does is right. This is particularly annoying in one context for me but I wont go into that here as its business related. The only other time it upsets me is when my sister gets upset by it and that happens pretty regularly.

I am then my mothers next favourite and them my sister trails along waaaaaaaay behind. My mother is very dismissive of my sister – unless she expects her to fix something up or sort out some problem and then she is expected to jump to attention. My sister was an absolute hell-raiser as a child & a teenager – makes me wonder sometimes which came first …

Anyway, it never really bothered me that my brother was my mums special pet – I had my sister and that was all that mattered. I learnt to rely on her for everything. Mel made sure I was dressed in the morning, she changed my nappies, she checked I ate my lunch at school, she bashed up kids who teased me, she leant me her clothes, she taught me to apply makeup, she came to my school sports days & swimming carnivals (something my mother never did), she attended my gymnastics exams (again, mum never bothered), she came to my singing lessons and so forth – in every way she was a mother to me as well as a sister.

I remember once talking to my sister about mum and M was just wild and she demanded to know if it didn’t upset me that mum was the way she was and I just looked at her and shrugged and said “Why would it – I don’t need her, I have you”

It wasn’t until I had been over here for about 4 mths that I finally managed to admit to myself and to my sister that I resented the fact that my mother played so small a part in my life (which has actually made it a pretty big part of my life – now what do you call that again???) and worse, that she didn’t seem to care about the lack. My sister suggested that I write it all out so I jumped on the computer & started typing – 11 ½ pages of resentment, hurt and confusion. I had to keep stopping as I kept getting too upset and I actually even cried.

Amazing how much better I felt afterwards.

I sent it through to my sister and she was rather shocked to read it. She pointed out that it was the same for all of us – only our brother ever got slightly more from our mother then she & I did, it’s just that I couldn’t admit it (I don’t deal well with negative emotions) and that’s what was making it harder for me.

As a result of our upbringing we all find it quite difficult to interact with our mother. My brother and my mother are very very similar which probably explains why they get along better then my sister & I – he asks for less from her (in the emotional sense) then we do so she feels more able to meet his demands but either way, conversation is difficult – we can talk about things (how the business is going, the house, the yard, my aunts etc) but I cannot talk to my mother about emotions or how I am feeling. Practical matters she can understand, hopes & dreams are strictly off limits.

To this day, she still doesn’t see me as a person in my own right – any opinion I have that does not echo hers exactly is simply me repeating what my sister says – clearly I am incapable of forming my own opinion on anything, a concept of hers that drives me crazy but that my sister & I do make endless jokes about now (no matter how badly I fuck up, its always my sisters fault so far as my mother is concerned) we’ve learnt to laugh at what we can’t change.

I always resented that my mother thought she could buy me off with a new toy and to this day I deeply mistrust anyone who tries to ‘buy’ my affection or time – I love gifts and surprises but the motivation behind it is a big thing for me.

I will never be a working mother for the simple reason that I am determined to do the exact opposite of everything my mother did. Many women work and raise perfectly happy well adjusted children - my lack of relationship with her was never due to the fact that she was always working or tired from work & therefore didn’t want to interact with me, my lack of relationship with her stems from her complete inability to relate to me as a child and her refusal to relate to me now as an adult.

It makes me sad that I don’t have a closer relationship with my mother but such is life. I'm no longer angry with her as I accept that she gave us as much of herself as she could.

As a parent, you do the best job you can. It might not be enough for your child but its all you can do. Your relationship with your child will depend upon so much more then if you were there at the school gate to meet them when the bell rang, its more then just going out & buying them toys. Its about seeing them and appreciating them for who they are and realising that they have opinions too and trying to meet their need and more then anything loving them for who they are – even if they aren’t who you would like them to be. If you can do that, I don’t think you can go far wrong.