Hi, my name is Facing-50 and I'm a shitty mother. I am thinking of starting Shitty Mothers Anonymous. Want to join?
This weekend I was tired and feeling crummy and crabby and Hugh backed me into a corner (which, in my defense, is something that he does ruthlessly) and I just exploded. In public. Left him to deal with a disabled shopping cart full of groceries on the pavement and ran for the car. It was dumb, the sort of behavior that you see in a 17-year-old single mom of a cranky toddler and you think, "Tsk, tsk." But I'm so not 17. And not single. I know better. I've got a wealth, criminal really in its extent, of social and intellectual and financial and emotional resources at my fingertips. Sigh. So Hugh finally gets to the car and goes nuts. Screaming and swearing and even crying, "You left me! You left me!"
Oh God. My adopted son. My adopted baby screaming that I left him. Oh geez.
I'm still reeling, still trying to come to grips with it all, to sort my way through the questions of guilt and responsibility and sheer fucking personal stupidity.
Time for an S.M.A. meeting.
Hi, as the mother of two adopted grown children with problems of their own I can relate to going through similar scenes. I don't think this qualifies you for SMA, though. Being adopted isn't the automatic excuse for ruthlessly backing you into a corner and being a jerk. Hugh needs to start behaving better.
ReplyDeleteMichele, thank you so much! No, adoption is no excuse--and certainly Hugh has tried to play it for all it's worth. But in this case, I don't think he was. In this case, I think he really truly was stunned, and frightened--at a level I'm sure he could not undersand--by being left. But then again, maybe that's just me, projecting my fears and guilt. Augggggghhhhhh!
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