Christmas Redux

{The author of this guest post has asked to remain anonymous}

The box of Christmas presents arrived from my mother for the kids last week, just in time to put under the tree. The kids knew better than to open any packages, so they set it on my bed.

I opened the box and started pulling out wrapped gifts. I could immediately tell there weren’t enough. She had wrapped up in paper and ribbon and bows gifts for SOME of my children but not others. Swear words ran through my head. I’m almost 40 years old and this woman is still emotionally terrorizing me in the name of love.

I called her and asked as politely as possible what was up, and she (so, so kindly) responded that some of the kids were just not as loving toward her as others so she didn’t know that they would even *care* if they got something from Meemah. Her life is so transactional. ‘Show me love (in the way I tell you) or you get nothing.’ Her tone dripped with a kind of syrupy love and care that is reserved for inauthentic interactions with work acquaintances as you meet at the copy machine and listen to talk about co-workers’ colonoscopies.

My sister and I have worked for years to figure out how to change this dynamic in our own homes. We talk almost daily as we struggle to change the narrative in our own timelines. But every time mom surfaces into our lives, her chaos and turmoil are left in every corner of our home. My kids are so confused by her transactional and selfish nature, not sure how to reconcile the way grandma is “supposed” to be with the much messier reality.

I threw all the gifts in the trash and told my kids the box never arrived. I realize this is rescuing my mom in some ways, but are my ‘out of favor’ kids old enough to deal with my mother’s unkindness? I’m not even old enough to deal with it, I’m realizing…

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