My Bullshit Threshold

I have concluded this week that I tolerate an amazing amount of crap from people.  I tolerate abuse, people who over step boundaries and over stay welcomes. And I generally do it with a damn smile on my face.  Yes, there are times that I snap quite quickly and stop the BS as soon as I see it, but to be honest with myself and you guys, it just doesn't happen as often as I would like.  I have no idea where I learned to be so patient and nice.  When I get loaded full with other people's crap I even have the ability to stop, think about and justify their shitty behavior as if it's completely right for them to be that way.  While I find it easy to speak my mind openly most days, in these situations I tend to swallow the words I would most like to say.  The worst part of all this is I don't even know how to stop!

My current BS situation is my mother AGAIN.  Yes, some more of her crap thrown in my face and I still sit here politely,smile and laugh it off in her face like it's all so funny.  Ha Ha.  Then after the situation I a telling friends how pissed I am, how horrible I am made to feel and how I don't know how to stop it! I get told the same things over and over, "Christine, just tell her to stop, that she's offending you."  Do I ever say anything?  No.

Here's what happened.  Mom and Chris came out for a couple days this week.  For the most part her recent visits have been quite pleasant and I have enjoyed having her here.  So why would I think any different of this one?  I guess maybe I should have known it was gonna be bash fest on me based on recent phone conversations over the past 2 weeks.  As I have been told that I don't have enough money to feed myself or son.  That I don't have enough to get him summer clothes.  How I just don't have the mental capacity to deal with Aiden.  Of course I also don't know to watch my son in the yard and I would let him wonder off to be kidnapped before knowing what ever happened, the list goes on and frickin on.

So I had a conversation with my brother. It's been a while since we have been able to vent about her and her crap.  We are the only 2 people(besides maybe my dad) who understand the situation and can talk on the same level about it.  He told me how Mom was back home telling people about how hard I have it and how she doesn't know if I can properly care for Aiden. I am so broke she doesn't even know if I am providing meals for him and he may be going to bed hungry and only eating what meals pre-school is offering.  She is afraid I am abusing him because I am so much like my dad that I wouldn't stop to think about beating him.

Now I would just like to stop this little crazy story and say that I am currently making $400-$500 a week plus a monthly bonus.  I do not pay any rent here,  Skip pays for all of it and I take care of  utility bills and my car. Hardly sounds like I am suffering.

To continue on, the whole time she was here she did nothing but put me down. She kept telling me how skinny Aiden was and how I wasn't feeding him enough.  She acted like I was abusing him when I told him no to something.  She would huff at me if I told Aiden he didn't need to eat anymore because he was full. You know when the kid has a gut full of food that hangs over his pants, he doesn't need to eat any more.  And never mind the horrible conversation we had about me telling Aiden to brush the dirt off, nothing is broken when he fell down! NOOOOO, she grabs him up and babies him until he is screaming and choking on his own spit and snot.  She says to me " You know you CAN hold him, I know you are afraid he is going to turn into a FAG like your brother."    WTF!  No that's NOT why I choose not to baby him.  He spent 3 years living with grandmas that turned him into a dependent whiner.  There is nothing wrong with toughing things out.  The last I checked he came out of my vagina and he lives in my house.  Am I wrong?


I am so fed up with this crap.  I am about to explode at her, but somehow I manage to keep my cool and let her keep on abusing me.  She really believes all she says too.  Sometimes I wonder if I should worry about social services showing up at my door to inspect me.  I don't know how much longer I will go on smiling nicely and acting like it's all so funny, but I am starting to feel like I am at a breaking point.  My bullshit meter is about to explode.  It's just not gonna be good when it does.  Not at all.