it's never too early for family drama

I’m typing this at four o’clock in the morning, and I am awake and mobile at this insane hour to catch an early flight to Houston. It’s my first trip back there since my move west a year and a half ago. I’m going to have dinner with some friends, catch up with an old colleague over lunch, and visit the shops I miss most. I’m also going to be attending not one but two baby showers, celebrating my sister’s birthday (yesterday), celebrating MY birthday (Monday), and doing some mother/daughter/sister bonding.

It’s a lot to cram into five days.

But it’ll be fine. I’ve gotten to a point with my family where I am able to just be who I am, let them be who they are, and not get my knickers in a twist (too much) about any of it. It didn’t used to be that way; spending time with my family, with my mother especially, has been historically difficult. Don’t get me wrong – I love my mother. But we have, in the grand tradition of mothers and daughters the world over, butted heads. A lot.

Mostly because we share a lot of personality traits. We’re both stubborn, we’re both in possession of explosive tempers, and we’re both convinced that we’re right and the rest of the world is full of shit. The trouble is, the way we view the world and our priorities have always been vastly different. The result has been a mother/daughter relationship that has been at times rocky, acrimonious, and during the summer of 1994 (what my mother calls the Summer from Hell), downright hostile.

But something changed in the last few years. Maybe it was because I’ve grown more comfortable and secure in who I am as a person, so I’m less inclined to take offense when someone questions me. Maybe it’s because I finally realized that no matter how misguided she seems to be to me, her words and actions come from love, and a genuine desire to see me happy (just because she has no idea what makes me happy doesn’t negate the good intentions). Maybe it’s because she went through a bout of colon cancer last year, and I realized that I only have one mother. And no matter how crazy I think she is, or how out of touch or annoying I find the things she does, she’s still my mother and I want her around for a long time.

Whatever it was, spending time with Mom is a lot easier these days. Comments or questions that used to piss me off now mostly amuse me. If I do get irritated or frustrated, I’ve learned to step back for a second, remind myself that her opinions or needs don’t have to have an effect on my choices, and it’s fine. Plus my sister is there, and we can meet in the kitchen for a midnight beer (water for her) and kvetch about our crazy mom.

I’m looking forward to it.