Land the Helicopter

A true bestie will ALWAYS call you out on your bullshit.

I read a thing today where this woman was talking about leaving her husband and kids for three weeks to care for her severely ill sister. According to her, the only time she had ever spent away was a weekend with her husband when their oldest was a baby. The kids are now 14 and 11.

I completely understand that three weeks is a long time. Especially when you’re dealing with a crisis, like a sibling potentially dying. Having said that, the whole thing irritated me.

Believe me, as a mom, I’m well aware there is no winning. You’re too strict/permissive/clingy/distant, the list goes on and on. However, there is nothing healthy about being so obsessed that you can’t emotionally cope with your kid having a sleepover with a friend at 14. Which I mention because she specifically points out sleepovers as a stressor for her.

She also seems genuinely amazed that her husband and sons handled things while she was gone. To the point of making a big deal out of her 14 year old doing laundry and her 11 year old making his own lunch, tasks she admits had never occurred to her they were capable of doing. It’s a sandwich lady, not the International Space Station.

I genuinely hope this was an eye opener for her, and she realizes she has been raising her boys to be completely dependent on her. I hope she deals with whatever is going on that makes her feel that her value lies in doing absolutely everything for her husband and sons.

What do you think Dissy, am I being too harsh?

I don’t know, Barb. What I see here is that a lesson was learned. A positive and good lesson. She doesn’t seem horrified to have learned that her boys are more self-sufficient than she gave them credit for. She even says that most of these activities had remained the responsibility of the boys when she returned.

In fact, I want to psychoanalyze the hell out of you for judging this woman so harshly.

Because I remember one of the first times we hung out. I remember the look you got on your face when Jason told you, “Go out with Dissy and have fun. I can handle the grocery shopping.”

It never occurrs to you to have girl child or him do many of the things you deem “your” job. In fact, I had to bully you to start visiting me so I could make you sit around and do nothing. Me thinks Barb may be projecting a smidge. 😉

So, my response is…

You know I love you, right?

Cent’anni, Bitches!!

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