My Mom, the Narcissist

My Mom is a narcissist. No really, she is. I know we all feel this way about our mothers...or, um, maybe we don't. But in dysfunction land -- where my family resides -- she is. And I can prove it.

I won't even delve into the realm of what she did at my wedding. She single-handedly ruined the entire thing for me, and pretty much everyone else attending; forever staining that day into my memory. And not in the good way you'd think it would be. No, I'm not going there. And I won't even venture into how she left me more than 13 voicemails in the week following my wedding, while Andi and I were honeymooning. She eventually ended up calling our hotel. Why? Because my wedding was supposed to be about the bride's mother and the bride. It was her day. And those are her words, my friend. But I'm not going there...just as I said I wouldn't.

I'm not even going to get into this past Thanksgiving and how it was supposed to be about her and her friends and family. Yet again, I'm quoting of course.

Nope, not me. I don't live in the past. I'm speaking of the future, and how my Mom intends to steal Christmas. My Mom's husband works offshore. He will be working on Christmas, and as such we've celebrated early with them this year just a few weekends back. Now that was fine. Then I found out my Mom was inviting herself over for Christmas this year. Which is fine, I don't want her to spend the day alone. Great. I'll see my Mom and the kids will see Meemaw. Wonderful. But then she announced she was coming up Christmas Eve. I can deal, really I can.

In November my Mom told me about what she was wanting to order Adrien for Christmas. He's absolutely obsessed with tractors, as any boy is, and so she was getting him a pedal tractor. You know, a tractor that's just his size that can be pedaled around. It was even coming complete with a trailor. I figured it would be fine and he would love it. And he will, love it. And therein lies the problem.

I'm not a mean Mom. I want my kids to have presents they like. I want to see his joyful, expressive face light up when he sees this thing. And no doubt he'll want to ride it for hours on end after receiving it. He will LOVE it. But it didn't come in in time for our early Christmas with my Mom. So of course, she was going to be bringing it along for the real Christmas.

Although Santa's got a grand Christmas planned for my little Pooka, let's face it. Thomas the Train does not compare to a big fat Adrien-sized tractor with trailer. It just doesn't. Neither do any of the other gifts Santa's going to be dropping through the chimney. So I politely called my Mom and requested she hold off on gifting the tractor until later that day. I'd prepared myself for my Mom to take it as badly as possible, and of course she would because you know, everything is about her. But to my surprise, she understood. Or at least she said she did. That is, until she called me this morning asking if Adrien would like one of those VTech video game systems.

It doesn't have to be from Meemaw or the parents, she explained, It can just be from Santa.

I guess her understanding is out the window.