Lowlights from the Parental Visit - Day One

(May I just say that it saddens me when I think of my friends, some of whom have kids, who will one day be the subject of blog entries by their children. My friends try so hard to be good parents, worrying over what seem like the smallest things to me, and they want so badly to nurture their kids and help turn them into happy, healthy, productive adults. To think their kids may hate them and bitch about them, the way we sit around bitching about our parents...)

1. Sunday, before my parents left NY, my father called me at 9 a.m. for some reason I can't quite figure out. I was awake though grumpy, and not quite ready to be making conversation. When I told him that because Nice Partner is headed into trial next week, therefore will be flying a lot this week to prepare witnesses, and I might be a little late meeting the Parental Unit Monday while I made sure he was getting on correct flights and such, my father had what I can only describe as a temper tantrum. "Fine. Then why don't you just call us when you get out of work, and maybe if you have time we'll get together, and if you don't, then we'll just see you some other time."

Dude. Aren't YOU the one who wants to get together with ME? That attitude does NOT make me want to spend time with you. Who would want to spend time with someone who's going to treat them like that?

I threw up before my parents got to my place. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away from home. I really had no desire to see them at all.

2. My parents arrived at my apartment, where my friend (and her daughter) was also supposed to meet us, before we went to lunch. My father broke my already broken lamp as he figured out what's wrong with it. It was funny.

3. My mother ASKED if she could sit down in my living room chair. "Do you have poo on your pants or something?" Of course she could sit in the living room chair. She's just not welcome to sit in the dining room chairs, because she breaks them (two of my brother's).

4. My friend arrived with her kid. In front of my parents she asked, "How are you?" I replied, "Good." As she leaned forward and hugged me, I whispered, "Not good." I feel bad saying this, but I said a silent prayer that her daughter would be excellently behaved, lest my parents think she's a brat and my friend is a bad parent for having a bratty child.

5. We fucked around in my house for an HOUR. NOBODY would nut up and say what they wanted for lunch. Inside I was seething at the waste of time. I took time off from work for THIS? We ultimately went to the Beach Chalet. I had called them in the morning to find out if they had an elevator, since my mother can't walk up stairs.

6. Bless my friend, who likes to talk. I have no clue what she yammered on about, but she did a good job of it with my parents. She also tried not to laugh when my parents and I all ordered the same thing at the restaurant. A hamburger.

7. My parents kept their mouths shut at all the things my friend's daughter did that they would have smacked me for doing at her age. Truly, I was shocked. They aren't terrible things, just ... my parents really demanded excellently perfect behavior at all times, and my friend isn't that strict.

8. Due to the aforementioned (and cross-blogged about) lamp situation, my father offered to drive us to Target to get me a new one. I don't have a car anymore, and have never driven to Target. Highways? Never use 'em. My brother had told me the exit to get off at. It was the wrong one. We were mildly lost. We were running out of time. Fuck. Ultimately found Target, but they didn't have the lamp I wanted.

9. Therapy. The therapist wanted me to tell my parents ahead of time that I didn't want to see them both together. She didn't want to be the bad guy, and she wanted me to give them ample warning. So I did. Went in with my dad. I gave him the comfy chair. The uncomfortable chair was really uncomfortable.

10. Told my dad that I hate when he screams and rages all out of control. How it makes me not want to come visit in New York. How it made me worry right after his open heart surgery that his chest would rip open and his heart would go plop on the floor from the rage. The therapist kept interrupting me, and it pissed me off. I have YEARS worth of feelings on this that go in multiple directions, and she kept trying to push me to stay very tightly focused. I can't say what I need my father to hear in 10 minutes. The therapist asked my father to do active listening. He did, she asked how I felt about what he spit back at me. I told him it was too perfect, and I didn't trust it. I apologized for saying that. My father is the most trustworthy person in the world, and I felt awful saying I didn't trust him. But I didn't. Also told my dad that I feel like he and my mother, my shrink for 12 years, the school distrct, etc. totally failed me. That had to be horrible to hear. He agreed, though he said it wasn't for lack of trying. I agree they tried, but I can't help but wonder why they didn't try harder or differently.

11. I feel like therapy sucked. I feel like there's both too much time with the 'rental unit and also not enough time to address all the issues. I can't believe I have to go through another day of this shit.

12. Really, they want more than I want to give them.

13. At the end of the night, I wanted to take the bus home from where we were. It was less than half a block from us. My parents were 5 blocks from their hotel, and I lived half a city away. My parents wanted to drive me home. We went back and forth, I finally gave in, and they got TOTALLY lost and it took over an hour to get home. So furious. They want me to talk with them. Why would I want to talk to them? Nobody ever listens to me. What's the point?

*Sorry I'm not providing links. This post isn't about being widely read or ratings and I'm in a rush.