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The answer to this question is a bit twofold. First things first--my parents are splitting.
Now, this news is no surprise to me. They've been rocky for ages--since the beginning, really, since their marriage was prompted by my conception--but especially the last six or seven years. They've been separated twice, and my mom forewarned me that she was on the hunt for another place to live. I think it will be good for them. Healthier. But it still hurts.
My husband and I have made a habit of driving the one-and-a-half hours to our hometown about once a month. Last weekend was our first visit since my mother moved out. In a word, it was awkward. My father is holding up okay, for being the one fighting to stay together. My mother, though, takes just about every opportunity for snide/whiny/sarcastic remarks.
I rarely notice this conversation hijacking anymore, but my husband does. He asked about it on the car ride home Sunday night. He made a good case of specific instances that I had completely written off, but he's right. One such instance was during a discussion about weight.
I really ought to know better than to so much as think about weight-related topics around my mother, but I was so proud of the five pounds I've recently lost that I couldn't help but brag a bit; I also had to explain why I was turning down her offer of going to a pizza buffet for lunch. Her response was nothing less than what I've grown to expect--something to the effect of "So now I'll be the only fat one in the family? Great." I laughed it off and said little else on the topic, while my mother googled a BMI calculator and determined exactly how "fat" she is.
A pre-occupation with weight makes sense for my mom. She was once morbidly obese, but made some changes and lost a lot of weight at once. Some of the weight has crept back up on her, as weight is wont to do, but she's still in a better place than she used to be. But apparently, she's not in a good enough place to be happy for her daughter's healthy choices; she's too busy feeling sorry for her poor ones.
So I'm a little upset that my mom isn't pleased with my return to the "normal" category, but more upset she'd rather I be "overweight" with her. I'm also saddened by this trend that Jacob has pointed out and that I can no longer ignore--that I can't even talk to my mother anymore without the conversation becoming all about her. I think the day has finally arrived where I stop seeing my parents as the all-knowing, infallible forces of good in my life and start seeing them as they really are: just older, more experienced, but equally confused humans, like myself.
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