Mother knows best..[I hate her.]

Lizzie's mother, the know it all judgmental one, comes for a visit.

Dear Baby,

     I am getting fat. I decided to blame it on Connor’s superb cooking. It just makes me feel better to b***h at him. The gain in weight could be all the cookies, ice-cream, and slim jims I have been eating but the Doctor told me it wasn’t any of those. Connor was smug for the rest of the afternoon.

     You were just getting bigger. I listened to your heartbeat today, and Doc Sporks gave me pictures of this month’s ultra sound. Three months pregnant and I was already buying new pants. So much for a skinny pregnancy like my mother. Oh God. Baby.

     Your grandmother is a complete nutcase, and promise me you will never end up with her genes. She totally flipped out when I told her the news. And then she screamed even louder over the phone when I told her Connor had moved in. She demanded to talk to him.

     They talked for a good hour and afterwards Connor pointedly told me that my mother was in love with him and that she was going to come over tomorrow. I think I just threw up or something in response.

     Living with Connor has become strangely..nice. Almost normal now. I no longer get the urge to break down when we are alone doing menial tasks together. Instead, I have put all of my emotions into you and the baby books I bought. All of them go on and on about the do’s and don’ts but I found one book that is a different approach for first time mothers.

     The author basically explained that a schedule, a regiment of torture and “perfect” balance to a child would just drive me nuts. It goes on about having fun and keeping my imagination youthful to better understand my growing child. That with that friendship and trust the discipline does not have to be so harsh and that my open communication with foster amazing results. Connor calls it Bohemian Parenting. I decided I will do it.

     The meeting with my mother went like I expected. She practically strangled me in a short tight hug but then went over to Connor with a big smile and a longer greeting. That was my mother. Connor was pretty much the son she never had and the fact that he was successful in life where I wasn’t was a plus for him.

My mom had me when she was sixteen. She was still young, and had this aged beauty that still had the men lining up. But her attitude was appalling.

     “Oo Elizabeth, baby doll, you are getting big so soon. How far are you? You said three months over the phone? More like three and a half.” She placed her hand on my stomach. I swatted it away and moved over to the stove to take the squealing tea pot off the burner. Leave it to my mother to notice my exact length of pregnancy where the doctor hadn’t.

     “I am just eating a lot.” I covered up, providing evidence by popping a piece of the cinnamon rolls Connor made for breakfast into my mouth. I chewed slow.

     “Oh yes. Leave it to that wonderful boy to keep you fed. How was your trip, love?” She asked him, sitting down with a cup of tea Conner made her. Thank god, she would be talking to him for a while. I was off the hook.

     I made a movement towards the living room but my mother’s chirped out.

     “So Lizzie have you decided what you are going to do about a job?” Damnit, her voice was so innocent. It was f*****g annoying. Connor came to my rescue. Which was surprising because he usually relished the way I squirmed under my mother’s bossy attitude.

     “Oh yea, Anna, Lizzie got a job at that hardware store outside on the East side of the city. Lowes. You know?”

     I looked at him with a thankful smile. He winked.

     “Oh? That seems alright for a pregnant woman. What do you do?”

     “I start as a cashier, mom.”

     “Oh.” And there it was. That one word that always started our screaming matches. She was so f*****g judge mental.

     “Is there some problem with being a cashier, mother?” I asked, setting my tea cup down hard on the island in my kitchen.

     Connor stood up and took me by the elbow, leading me out while my mother started sputtering from my “insolent” question. He leaned in to whisper into my ear, his words fast and to the point.

     “Doctor Sporks said to watch your stress, Lizards. So shut up for once and let her do her crap. She will be gone and you won’t see her for another few months.” Damn him. Being all reasonable. I just nodded and feigned a headache so I could curl up in my bed while my Mother parading about my apartment commenting on how clean it looked since the last time she had been in it. Due to Connor of course. Bullshit. I cleaned it. For some reason dirt was annoying me.

     Baby, you keep bringing out all these weird feelings in me. I feel fat. But in a way I think I look cute with my belly poking out when I wear tighter shirts. And I didn’t tell Connor yet, but yesterday I felt you move. It wasn’t like butterflies like the books say. It felt like I was going to have diarrhea. Is it strange that I still smiled?

Author's Note

ignore grammar, <3