It Takes a Village…Believe Me.
It Takes a Village…Believe Me.

It Takes a Village…Believe Me.

Can I say what’s really on my mind? Do you mind? You don’t? Great. Thanks.

My relationship with my mother has always been strained. My mother and I have always had completely different life philosophies. Even as a child, I had a spirit in me that would make the devil blush. I was always head strong. Always too smart for my own good and always, always, always questioned authority. Particularly my mom’s.

 

This, of course, drove my mother crazier than a loon in a bin (Get it? Loony bin? Forget it.) I remember vividly asking my mother questions about any number of things and getting answers I knew weren’t consistent with my own observations and would call her on it. Want to see a black woman turn blue? That’s how you do it.

 

My mom also grew up kindof old school. Spare the rod, spoil the child. I got probably a bit more than my fair share of that *cough* philosophy. My mom said it was because I was sooooo defiant, willful and manipulative. You know what? She was right. I was, am, are, and still be the drum, drummer, and captain of my own parade. It still drives my mom crazy. I think at this point in my life, I get a jolt of pleasure from it. Old habits die hard. Hehehehehe.

 

 

Anyway, my mom has been a really important part of Aubrei’s life thus far. Aubrei spends a lot of time with my mom and my mom is really great with her. What’s funny is that Aubrei has an almost identical personality to mine. She’s vibrant, funny, very active, very strong willed, very well spoken, asks very involved questions, and just happens to be defiant, willful, and manipulative–probably in that same order. My mom doesn’t even flinch.

 

 

My mom makes sure Aubrei is never short of museum entrances or Sesame Place season passes. My mom buys Aubrei every frilly dress and shoe that man has made since the child’s birth. My mom dotes on Aubrei Taylor L. Mason like she is the second coming. At the very least, like she is the only grandchild, which she is. I should also note that my parents are so completely possessive of Aubrei, it’s almost like I have to ask permission and send certified date memos just to spend time with her. It’s funny because I remember vividly when I was pregnant and my mother said out loud, “it’s not YOUR baby, it’s OUR baby”. I had no idea how loudly those prophetic words would ring true.

 

 

Now, my brother and sister– who are both in *cough* committed relationships– are currently withholding of the family seed. The reasons vary. My sister is married and really wants children, if only because all her friends did it and she’s so *cough* good with her three dogs and a cat. My brother is a bit on the *cough* superficial side, as is his * cough* girlfriend. I think they have found their Yorkie to be handful enough at this juncture in their lives. One can only hope.

 

 

I find myself in hysterics because I (the perpetual black sheep of the McKee brood) was the least likely of all of us to have any children at all. Now I’m the most likely to be the only one with any children at all. The reasons vary. It would take several years to thoroughly explain it and the cliffs notes would simply make me seem mean. So, I’ll end this part of the conversation here. You are welcome to insert your own assertions as you see fit. I always do. It works for me.

 

 

The reason for this post? Okay, so we talked a few posts back about how (the ex) and I have been getting along, despite the protests of the overprotective fam? Remember? Okay so, my mom just picked up Aubrei to take her to The Please Touch Museum. It was my job to put Aubrei in the car and Aubrei was doing her usual, ‘I’m-going-to-make-getting-me-in-the-car-seat-the-most-complicated-thing-in-the-world-for-you-to-do-right-now’ thing. She’s slumping her body, putting all her 40 pounds in her feet and I’m schelpping her to one side or the other like I’m working with a bag of rocks. Aubrei is grinning because obviously this little game is fun for her and I say to her something like: “I’m gonna tell your daddy.” So Aubrei straightens right up.

 

Now.

 

Under normal circumstances, this is a statement made by mothers across America, where they use as leverage the person in the family who owns the most base in their voice. In most cases, it’s the child’s father. In some cases, it isn’t. In this case, it was. This interaction between mother and child is usually not cause for a question and answer session. It’s simply how we get our kids in their car seat, finally.

 

So here comes my mom adding. “So Aubrei is afraid of (her Dad) now?”

 

Now.

 

In order to fully understand the subtext of my mom’s question/statement, you have to understand that my family is very cliquey. They decide who they like, who they don’t like, they determine what admission into their clique entails and basically it’s a form of hazing that has been banned from every university in this country. Should a potential line brother or sister rub any member of “The Fam” the wrong way…yes. Forever banishment. Blackballed. Done.

 

 

Safe for us to assume here that Aubrei’s dad is on “The Fam” blackball list. As is my brother’s girlfriend. The reasons vary.

 

More consistently now (even before we’ve been on better terms), I’ve been finding myself having to defend Aubrei’s time with her dad. My mom is *cough* kindof a *cough* control freak. I can only assume that somewhere in her mind she has decided that Aubrei’s dad is in the way of her and my dad’s time with Aubrei. Mind you, Aubrei and her dad get together every other weekend and a smattering of time in between. My parents see Aubrei just about every single day.

 

How he’s in the way, I will never know. My spidey senses are all but tingling now. It feels like my mom is slowly trying to purge the man out of Aubrei’s life all together. Scoff at me if you want to. The man started out seeing Aubrei: Tuesdays, Thursdays, Sundays, and every other weekend. Now he sees her: every other weekend. I had nothing to do with it. This is the same woman who decided when I got pregnant that she and my dad would force (the ex) to marry me and then force us to get divorced after the baby was born. *smh* See. This is why I leave my mom a lone. She’s got a million of em.

 

The most recent suspect occurance happened this past weekend. It was supposed to be Aubrei’s weekend with her dad. My sister scheduled this girls outing in Brigantine. My mom called (the ex) and basically told him he was out of luck (nicely). Considering also that there was no replacement weekend because he is going out of town this week. I was livid when I found out. I was like–this man literally gets 6 days out of a month to spend with his daughter and you get just about 30. You can’t let him have his 6 days??? Both my sister and my mom were looking at me like I had 3 heads. How dare I question “The Fam”????? *deep radio guy voice trails off into an annoying echo*

 

 

To be honest, I’m in the middle of a very complex and uncomfortable predicament. I can act like I don’t care what my family thinks, cause I really don’t, but I’m in a pickle because while I truly have the best interests at heart for Aubrei, I do believe “The Fam” has her best interests in mind also. What I’m thinking though, is there are far too many hands in this pot.

 

As a single person, not in any immediate danger of being a married person–unless I win the lottery. Then I’ll be beating them off with sticks. I’m in a position where leaning on my family for help with Aubrei makes my life a bit easier, but it’s also making the lines blurry about who the head of MY very small household– that really includes only two people– is. I am in full agreement that it takes a village to raise a child, but what happens when the village stops respecting boundaries and are a smidge too sensitive to hear this out loud? Should there be a sit down, which, by the way, never ends well in my family–ever? Should there be an intervention? Should I leave it alone and let them enjoy her for the summer and then when Aubrei starts AFS in the fall, life begins a new? Should I lace all of my sister’s drinks with hormones so that she can get pregnant and bring another grandchild into my parents world so some of the pressure is off Aubrei? What Would Jesus Do?

 

Let’s not even entertain the idea that (the ex) and I may actually get this co-parenting thing working like gangbusters ( I think that pun was intended. Get it? Gang? Busters? Forget it.) I seriously think “The Fam” would try to banish me too. Shit, I may get banished for writing this post….

 

Wait…*dream sequence music plays in the background until it screeches to a halt* Forgive me. I digress. Again.

 

The moral of this story? I actually wish I had one. And a peaceful resolution. I don’t see it yet. Maybe your ideas will trigger something. Thank you for reading this though. Peace and many many………….. %$&*^%$#*&% blessings. -e- Oh! Don’t forget to subscribe, subrscribe, subscribe!!!!