pie as battlefield
Jan. 1st, 2012 11:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
microbiePretty much the only constructive thing I did today was make a sweet potato pie. I guess I also made lunch, a mishmash of black-eyed peas, kale, and bacon. The pie is far more enjoyable (the mishmash tastes like something that is good for you; I should have kept more of the bacon grease).
The simple activity of eating pie reminded me of one of the more inane interludes at my parents' house. My mom made an apple pie on Christmas, and the two of us had a slice that day. It was fine- not a great pie, but good considering that my mom doesn't bake a lot.
On Tuesday I mentioned wanting to have some pie for dessert, and my mom refused. "It's not good," she said. "I thought it was fine, " I replied. "No, it wasn't." "You're saying that I can't have any pie??" The whole vacation she and Ramiro constantly asked us whether we wanted anything to eat; it got to the point where we were eating just to try to shut them up, which didn't work because once we'd agree to eat something they'd ask whether we wanted anything to go with it. And now my mom was making a unilateral decision that I should not eat the same pie that I'd eaten two days earlier and found perfectly acceptable? Finally I said, "are you seriously going to throw away the rest of that pie??" The mom I grew up with would have been appalled. Actually, she probably would have made us eat nothing but pie until it was gone.
The whole time we were there we were treated like babies, and not even in a good way, like being able to eat junk food and sleep all the time. If we tried to get up to get a glass of water, one of them would protest, "I can get that for you." Yes, you could, but I'm closer to the kitchen and FOR FUCK'S SAKE I MANAGE TO GET MY OWN WATER AT HOME. My shrink asks with not a hint of disapproval whether I can't just enjoy being spoiled, but she fails to understand that my mom coddles us to make herself feel better, not to make us feel more welcome or loved.
Example of a loving gesture: Ramiro went to their storage unit and brought back a box of old photographs. I had thought my mom got rid of them all, but she hasn't. Ramiro remembered that I'd wanted to show Brent some of my baby photos and couldn't the last time we were there. That was really nice of him, much nicer than the dozen or so times that he asked whether we were hungry.
The simple activity of eating pie reminded me of one of the more inane interludes at my parents' house. My mom made an apple pie on Christmas, and the two of us had a slice that day. It was fine- not a great pie, but good considering that my mom doesn't bake a lot.
On Tuesday I mentioned wanting to have some pie for dessert, and my mom refused. "It's not good," she said. "I thought it was fine, " I replied. "No, it wasn't." "You're saying that I can't have any pie??" The whole vacation she and Ramiro constantly asked us whether we wanted anything to eat; it got to the point where we were eating just to try to shut them up, which didn't work because once we'd agree to eat something they'd ask whether we wanted anything to go with it. And now my mom was making a unilateral decision that I should not eat the same pie that I'd eaten two days earlier and found perfectly acceptable? Finally I said, "are you seriously going to throw away the rest of that pie??" The mom I grew up with would have been appalled. Actually, she probably would have made us eat nothing but pie until it was gone.
The whole time we were there we were treated like babies, and not even in a good way, like being able to eat junk food and sleep all the time. If we tried to get up to get a glass of water, one of them would protest, "I can get that for you." Yes, you could, but I'm closer to the kitchen and FOR FUCK'S SAKE I MANAGE TO GET MY OWN WATER AT HOME. My shrink asks with not a hint of disapproval whether I can't just enjoy being spoiled, but she fails to understand that my mom coddles us to make herself feel better, not to make us feel more welcome or loved.
Example of a loving gesture: Ramiro went to their storage unit and brought back a box of old photographs. I had thought my mom got rid of them all, but she hasn't. Ramiro remembered that I'd wanted to show Brent some of my baby photos and couldn't the last time we were there. That was really nice of him, much nicer than the dozen or so times that he asked whether we were hungry.
