Misery loves company… to feel like dirt

On Thursday, my sisters and I took our mother out for her birthday. It was not an altogether horrible experience, except that my oldest sister was up to her normal stuff. At one point – don’t ask my why – babywearing was mentioned. My sister made it very clear that she found it a rather absurd thing for anyone to do. Far be it from her to take into account – or even give a shit about – any studies that have proven that attachment parenting actually raises more independent children. I really hate the fact that any and every time I spend much time with her, it’s like she goes out of her way to make me feel “less than”. I’m so tired of it.

I remember a long time ago she told me that the reason people make others feel bad is because they themselves are truly miserable people and, to make another feel bad about themselves, makes them feel good for a moment. The only thing I can figure is that she must be a truly miserable individual. 

I really dread any occasion that involves me spending time with her. Inevitably, there will be something she will say that will make clear she does not approve. I’m sure if she knew that we delay vaccinate or selectively vaccinate, or that we don’t circumcise, or that we co-sleep for the first several months, she’d probably lose her mind.

I do know that she is much different than she used to be. She used to be nicer. She used to like me but she doesn’t seem to now.

I realize now, though, that while she wasn’t always this much of a bitch, she has always been relatively judgmental. She has always made it clear when she disproves of something. I remember when I had my daughter, when she found out that I was co-sleeping, she was aghast and told me that my baby needed to sleep in her own bed. I trusted her. She told me that the name I originally had picked out for my daughter was a bad choice. I trusted her. She told me that I should make my daughter cry it out, even if it meant screaming for hours. I trusted her. I see now that she subscribes to a very rigid way of thinking; a world in which there seems to be nearly all black and white with very little gray. It’s rather ironic really, how similar she is to our father even though she seems to strive to be nothing like him.