Reminiscing on an unnecessarily drama-filled visit.
Visiting Mom's house for the winter holiday is always filled with mama-drama. I decided to share highlights of my days at Mom's house as I attempt to recover from her complaints and lies. (This is a lengthy vent post.)
In case it's helpful, below are the main points covered in this post:
23 December
As soon as I entered Mom's house, she looked me up-and-down, sighed, and called me fat. She said I should just give my Christmas gifts from her back because they would not fit. (The shirts she bought were big on me, but she refused to believe they fit me.) Mom explained that my weight makes me look uglier than usual and no man would ever want to date me.
24 December
During a late dinner, Mom complained that my lips were too dark. For context, I am half black, and darker lips are not uncommon because of higher melanin levels in the skin. However, Mom believed that because I am half Filipina, my lips should not be dark.
I explained that my lips have always been dark and get a little darker with age, but she suggested that I had a disease because there was no way my lips could be so dark. She argued that I was half Filipina, so she could not understand why my lips (and my skin) were darker than when I was a toddler.
Eventually, she suggested that I should get plastic surgery to fix my lips and skin because it currently makes me look ugly. Because I am ugly and not doing anything to look better, no man would ever want to date me.
25 December
I suffered from food poisoning and severe stomach pain due to Mom's cooking from the day prior.
I have a damaged stomach and intestines (e.g., thin stomach lining) due to long-use acne medication that Mom made me take it as a minor, so my stomach does not handle partially or poorly cooked food well. Unfortunately, Mom's cooking always made me ill.
I knew it would happen, but I did not have the heart to pass on Mom's labor of love, so I ate her cooking knowing I would fall ill. I hid my stomach problems from Mom. I did not want to hurt Mom's feelings by telling her that her cooking made me sick again (we talked about my stomach problems numerous times before).
I also knew Mom would not believe me since she always argued that I was lying for attention since nobody else gets sick from her cooking. Since Mom had a point about nobody else ever getting sick, I hid my pain and faked a smile to make the day special for her.
26 December
Mom planned to make barbecue shish kabobs and sausages but asked me to do the cooking.
Mom set up an electric grill on her counter. She said it was an indoor "smokeless" grill, but the house quickly filled with smoke despite having the range hood on. Mom refused to open any doors or windows for ventilation because "it's too cold outside," so I quietly dealt with the smoke.
Mom barked orders over my shoulder as I cooked, claiming that I was "doing it all wrong." I remained patient, but it was annoying to have Mom - a woman who claims she cannot stand for any length of time - stand over my shoulder the entire time I grilled complain about how I failed to do things her way.
While there is nothing wrong with meat cooked medium-rare, my weak stomach simply cannot tolerate it. I grilled most of the kabobs Mom's way and a few well-done for my sensitive stomach.
27 December
During a casual conversation, Mom complained about money and other things. She lied about several things, forgetting that I am aware of her finances and have access to her checking account, but I let her vent. She then told me, to demonstrate how little money she had, that she paid $237 per month for Medicare.
While some people may have to pay for Medicare Part B, I know Mom does NOT pay for Medicare Part A or Part B. I thought Mom misspoke and asked her to repeat what she said.
Not only did Mom again claim that she paid $237 per month for Medicare, but she also said that her monthly Medicare bills would increase in the new year. I did not correct Mom. Instead, I did some research to verify that Mom does not pay anything for Medicare.
Mom lied often, but it irritated me that Mom told me a lie that she should have known that I would see as a lie. After her multiple hospitalizations in 2024 and a talk I did not want to have with one of her doctors regarding her end of life, I chose to bite my tongue and let Mom tell her lies.
Mom repeated her Medicare payment claims throughout the day.
28 December
I usually get two or three hours of sleep when I stay at Mom's house. This was also the case when I lived with her as a minor and young adult. There is something about her house that prevents me from getting a decent night's rest.
Not only was I sleepy on this morning, but I was an emotional wreck missing my first dog, Shadow. Shadow died two years ago after a visit to Mom's house, but I felt sad to not have Shadow by my side, especially on the anniversary of his birthday.
My small dog, Rascal, and I did our typical morning routine when we visited Mom's house. We returned to Mom's house earlier than usual, around eight in the morning, because I felt emotionally and physically exhausted.
Mom was awake and wanted to continue venting about money and other things. To appease her, I sat at the dining table and quietly listened. But for some reason, I felt irritated when she again claimed that she paid $237 per month for Medicare.
I calmly told Mom that she should not be paying for Medicare and that we needed to take legal action to correct it. I could do so on her behalf. I just needed the receipts of payment.
Mom said, "Oh, did I say I paid them? I meant they pay [XYZ company] $237 a month for my leased oxygen equipment." I stared at her blankly. She said that I knew how she confused her words often and should have known what she meant.
I changed the subject to cleaning since I was hand washing dishes at the time. I suggested that Mom used the scrubbing pad side of the dish sponge for stubborn messes. She said that she could not use it because she could not apply pressure. I explained that she did not have to apply pressure when she used the scrubbing pad side of the sponge.
Mom said she could not wash her dishes with the scrubbing pad side of the sponge because she could not raise her right arm in the air. Confused about why she needed to raise her right arm into the air, I asked her to explain. She repeated her statement.
I demonstrated how she could wash the dishes with the scrubbing pad side of the sponge without any extra effort. "Just wash the dishes like you normally do, but with the green side."
She yelled and said that she could not raise her right arm in the air. I asked her to show me what she meant. She raised her right arm straight up into the air and said, "See! This is why I can't wash the dishes with the green side!"
I lost it. I yelled back, "Who the hell washes their dishes in the air above their heads?!? Why the hell are you washing your dishes like it's an extreme sport?"
Mom scolded me for swearing so often and not understanding her situation. We argued about her outrageous lies and other things that came up in recent conversations. I ended the argument before it escalated too far. I told Mom I would be back by dark and left with Rascal. The new game plan for the day was to honor Shadow's memory by doing a lot of the things he enjoyed in life.
After recounting our argument and the numerous lies she told me over several days to my Dad, he told me to be prepared for constant phone calls to return home immediately followed by “love-bombing” when she saw me in person. He then said that things would be calm tomorrow, but back to constant complaints and yelling the day after.
Around lunchtime, I checked my phone to see several missed calls and voicemail messages from Mom. She wanted to know where I was, if I was safe, and if she should call the cops. I chose to ignore the calls since I already told her that I would be back by dark.
I went back to her house after lunch to make sure she was alright. She was sound asleep. I used the bathroom, took care of her dishes, cleaned the counters, and headed back out with Rascal.
While driving to another city's park, I received several more missed calls and voicemail messages from Mom. I called her back when I set up a picnic at the park.
Mom was crying. She said that she was worried about me because I did not return home before lunchtime like usual. She thought I was "kidnapped, ra**d, or murdered" (she always worries this will happen to me because it has happened to a friend of hers) and was unsure if she should call police. I reminded her that I said I would be back by dark before leaving. Mom said I should have returned home knowing she would be panicked after our argument.
She then complained that I did not take her worries seriously and that she could not sleep. As I started to tell her that I knew she was napping, she cut me off to call me a liar. She said she was awake all-day baking pies in the kitchen. She cried because she did not raise me to be a selfish and cruel daughter.
When I had an opportunity to interrupt, I told her that she was the liar because I was at the house an hour earlier while she was napping. I knew she did not bake because I never cleaned any baking supplies while washing the dishes before I left the house for the third time that day. I also reminded her that there was a security camera in her bedroom, so it was easy to see when she was asleep.
Mom said, "Oh?" Then she laughed hysterically and said that I was right. She forgot about the security camera and did not realize that the dishes were taken care of.
She told me to come home, and I told her that I would be back by dark. I debated heading back to my home, but I remembered that the doctor believed this could be Mom's last holiday, so I chose to stay through the new year.
When I returned to Mom's house, she love-bombed me as Dad said she would. She hugged me tight and kissed my cheek repeatedly. She cried while talking about how grateful her precious daughter was safe. She prayed to God that he would keep me safe when I was obviously failing to be safe in the first place.
I headed to bed early to avoid all the affection that I was not used to.
29 December
Mom wanted my company after spending a day worried that something bad happened to me. After much hesitation, I joined her at the dining table as we ate lumpia she cooked (Filipino spring rolls). She again complained about money, family, in-home healthcare, and other topics.
Before long, Mom complained about how I will not make the necessary changes for men to like me. I needed to change my behavior, hobbies, and looks. She complained that I am single and childless. She desperately wanted grandchildren, especially granddaughter.
I reminded her that my brother gave her five grandchildren. She said one was not her grandchild (Mom does not like one of her grandchildren for whatever stupid reason) and that she expected me to give her grandchildren years ago.
The discussion almost turned into an argument about my choice to be childfree, but I changed the topic. I showed Mom photos of my dogs.
Mom smiled at photos of Rascal. I tried to skip past photos of my young dog, Lucy, because Mom often wishes bad things to happen to Lucy. Unfortunately, Mom saw a photo of Lucy in a belly-up position. She yelled at me for being a horrible dog owner. Mom said I was raising a whore and should know better than to let Lucy lay in a sexual position.
I tried explaining again (we discussed this many times before) that this position was a sign that a dog felt comfortable, safe, relaxed, and happy. I reminded her that Rascal regularly lies in a belly-up position. She then yelled that I was raising two whores, and that Rascal learned it from Lucy.
Annoyed with the non-stop yelling about how I am a horrible dog owner and selfish daughter for not providing her with grandchildren, I locked myself in my childhood room for the rest of the day.
30 December
Because I ate Mom's cooking the day prior, I suffered from food poisoning and severe stomach pain.
My niece visited for a short while that afternoon. It was the highlight of my day! She mentioned that she and her siblings may stop by for a short while to say hi the next day.
I made the mistake of telling Mom that my nibblings (nieces and nephews) may stop by to say hi the next day, but that they were still planning on joining us for lunch the day after.
31 December
Mom was stressed trying to rush the meal meant for the next day on this day. When I asked her why she was cooking a day earlier than planned, she said that she wanted her favorite granddaughter (yes, Mom has and openly admits to having a favorite grandchild) to have food for when she visited.
I reminded Mom that there was no guarantee that they would stop by, and every already agreed to lunch the next day. Still, Mom insisted on stressing herself out to rush a meal just-in-case.
Late morning, Mom asked me to continue her ham while she took a nap. I agreed and asked when she last baste (glazed) the ham. She told me the basting was only done once the ham was fully cooked.
I asked her how long the ham was baking for. She said one hour and should be turned off and done baking in an hour. In other words, she told me that the seven-pound ham would be done after two hours of baking at 350F.
I decided not to follow her instructions for turning the oven off after the second hour, but she turned it off early. Instead of napping, she came out of her room frequently to make sure I did not turn the oven back.
As I expected, the ham was undercooked and a little dry. However, she complained that I overcooked it and dried it out completely. She later apologized to my nibblings because I ruined the holiday ham.
By late afternoon, Mom demanded/convinced/manipulated/guilted my nibblings into coming that evening. Instead of sticking with their original plans that did not involve celebrating the New Year at Mom's house, they reluctantly changed their plans to spend it with her.
My stomach reeled with pain (likely because I appeased Mom by eating her cooking (ham, veggies, etc.), so I went to bed before nine. Mom barged into my room numerous times that evening to wake me up. She did not care that I felt unwell and insisted that I hung out with the family and be awake at midnight. After the third time, I locked the door. (Mom hates when I lock the door because she needs to check on me at random in case of an emergency.)
1 January
Despite feeling ill, I enjoyed spending time with my nibblings. They are always the best part of my visits to Mom's house!
Mom still managed to irritate me by calling one niece and one nephew fat. She also complained that my other niece needed to have a daughter because Mom does not know how to buy boys a gift or handle their hyper-ness.
After my nibblings left, Mom asked me to collect her Christmas decorations from the front yard. As I did so, she opened the front door to tell me that I was removing the decorations incorrectly (some hung on the wall while others were staked into the ground).
I asked her to either come out and guide me or keep the door closed so Rascal does not get out. I told her this every time she opened the front door to complain about something.
At one point I turned around to see Rascal casually stroll down the sidewalk. I dropped everything and rushed to grab Rascal before he made it out of the front yard.
Dumbfounded, I glared at Mom. She said, "Oops," and then said that I should learn to trust that my dog would not go too far or get himself into trouble. If something bad happened to him, it was my fault for not keeping an eye on him.
It was not the first time that Mom left a door open after I asked her repeatedly not to do so. It was not the first time Rascal walked out of the house to get away from Mom. (He hates visiting Mom's house, but I selfishly take him to Mom's house for emotional support.) It was, however, the first time he did not run off when I went to grab him. Rascal is a good boy.
2 January
I picked up Mom's medicine from the hospital pharmacy and got us takeout. Mom wanted her food order a specific way, so I took detailed notes of her order before I left the house. I read Mom's order word-for-word to the person at the registered, and Mom later yelled at me for getting her order wrong.
Mom knew, because I reminded her many times during my stay, that I was heading home after I picked up her medicine. When I told her I was ready to leave, she looked shocked and claimed that I never told her I was leaving that day.
Exhausted and not wanting to argue or see her cry, I asked if she wanted me to stay one more night. She said yes, so I did.
3 January
I intended to leave early while Mom was asleep to avoid hearing Mom's voice, but she was still awake (night owl) at six in the morning. I informed her that I was leaving.
She asked me to stay longer, stating that she had things for me to do, but I refused. Mom packed some food for me to take (I declined but she insisted). Rascal and I did our normal morning routine before heading back home.
What's Next?
While I wish I am taking time to avoid mama-drama, I can not escape it yet. I may post about another annoyance that hopefully would come to an end soon.
Comment below to vent about your mama-drama!
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Thanks, and have a great day!
~Simply Jelly Jam
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