Not all Mother's

One harsh reality that I experienced in my life, is that not all mothers are supportive and good role models. Yet, they unintentionally teach us valuable life lessons.

My parents got a divorce when I was around six years old. When my father remarried he did so to a young woman who was my mother's bipolar opposite. I say that because of what I learned from being around them. My step-mother was the type of woman who had a doctorate in education, worked a salaried career, owned her own business creating educational seminars, she invested in real estate that brought in residual income (A condo at a mountain resort that offers downhill and cross-country skiing.), she loved to travel around the world sailing and scuba diving, she designed her own homes and had them built, would go to auctions for furniture then reupholster or restore them, she also invested in a timeshare in Aruba. My father was able to live a luxurious life because of all my stepmother's ambition. He may have had a great career himself that allowed him to receive plane tickets and travel. He also helped and supported his wife as a team. Rather it was creating a website, taking the reservations and processing the payments for the educational seminars, or helping her with her thesis for college.

A woman like my mother would see my father's beautiful home, fancy car, and pictures of him traveling then start thinking that should be mine. However, that is not true because my Mom had two children to take care of and she worked as a keypunch operator. She was never business-oriented nor did she possess the drive my stepmother had. Also, their childhood experiences were so different. My step-mother has three sisters whom she was always competing with. My mother only has a younger brother whom she never had to compete with for anything. My mother grew up as a pampered princess. I call her that because she had not one but two seamstresses at her disposal who made clothes for her. She didn't have to worry about being in style or fitting in with her peers she wore original clothing that couldn't be found in stores. When her grandmother was not making ball gowns or beautiful dresses for her. Then her neighbor was making her everyday clothes. Her mothers' sister-in-law owned a monogram shop and would make my mother robes and bath wraps with her initials sown on them. She also sowed my mom's name in her clothes.

Having such different personalities causes different outcomes. Also, my stepmom did not have any children or the responsibilities that came with them. If my mom stayed married she may have had a three-bedroom house with two bathrooms and a Volvo. Not the six-bedroom, five bathrooms, two living rooms, three fireplaces, two kitchens, sauna, two jacuzzi tubs, on a few acres home that my stepmom had designed. She definitely would not have had the experience of being a millionaire or traveling as much.

My mom never remarried because she fell in love with a man who was racist and married. I say this because my mom was good enough to be with at night while we were sleeping, or in his patrol car at night when he was supposedly working. However, she was not white enough to be on his arm and attend any police officers' events. So for over forty years, she has been the other woman or side chic(even when he divorced one woman he married another white woman). Living such a life would eventually turn the sweetest woman into a jealous hot mess.

It got to the point where my mother spent almost every day after work going out to bars with her friends. The bars could be in a hotel or club she went where ever her friends went. I remember when I was in the eleventh grade, she came home so plastered I was surprised that she didn't have a car accident. She asked me to heat two slices of pizza for her in the microwave, when I handed the plate to her she put it on top of her head and then told me she was finished and needed me to help her get to her room to go to bed. I lost so much respect for her that day. I hate drunk drivers they ruin families, and the reality that my mom was becoming one hit me so hard. When I was growing up my mother had three female friends that she was close to. All of these ladies had daughters who my mom would leave me with when she was socializing. I learned a lot by observing people during that time. When I first met them all their mothers were single parents like mine. Two of the women were always involved in church activities the other was my mom's main drinking buddy. All of their daughters drank alcohol, slept around, and sniffed cocaine behind their mother's backs so hanging out with any of them was a nightmare. I remember when I was in High School and my mother wanted to hang out with her drinking buddy, I ended up spending the day with her daughter one I couldn't forget if I wanted to. The first stop she made was to see a friend of hers at a mental hospital, after that she drove at least an hour to an apartment complex with townhomes. We entered the townhome went up the stairs and I watched her buy some white powder, then she sat down on a couch with a mirror and a razor blade, next she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and rolled it up, after that she started making lines on the mirror with the powder using the razor to make sure they were all straight, she then put one end of the rolled-up money in her nose and the other at the beginning of one of the lines of powder and sniffed it up her nose. Then she had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to try it. I hate the way the water from a netty pot feels going up in my nose, or a swab at the doctor's office to test me for a sickness. Why would I intentionally sniff powder up my nose? To me, these people were crazy and had lost their minds. I wanted to go home so badly. I decided to go outside and wait for her. On my way out the door as I was standing at the bottom of the staircase, an addict in a mini skirt and high heels was rolling down, I hurried up and moved out of the way and she hit the door. I was surprised to see her get up unharmed and leave as if nothing had happened. On the way home, we stopped for Budweiser beers. I had never drunk beer before and I was so thirsty that I decided to just take one sip. It was awful I was at a loss for words. How can people drink something that tasted this bad one after another? It also did not help that the driver was going 100 miles per hour, after doing drugs and drinking. I was so terrified that I never hung out with her again.

My relationship with my mother got worse after that, I did not want to go anywhere with her anymore. I did not want to have anything to do with her friends for a long time. Thankfully I only went to school with one of them and she was two years younger than me so it was not hard to stay away from her. As I grew up my mother stopped going to clubs and drinking. Instead, she made new friends who were married and started spending a lot of time with them. I happened to be their maid at the time so I was at their house a few times when my mother was there. They were an incredibly nice family and treated my mother too well. It drove me crazy how she would stay so long at their house and always go out to eat with them. She was like a third wheel or a guest who never knew when to leave. Married couples need a lot of time to be alone, and go on dates. There should never be another woman tagging along all the time. She did this to my father's sister as well. Showing up at her house having my uncle cook for her and never leaving until someone is asleep. She had my brother and me at home yet she never spent quality time with us alone she always brought someone along with her. We only went to New Orleans once a year for Mardi Gras and visit her grandmother(she never made me any clothes).

My mother was very negative and always made me feel like nothing I ever did was good enough. She talked bad about my friends who were always there for me(who by the way are very happy and successful). I decided that I did not want to be anything like my mother so I got married, had children, and became a housewife. I cooked, cleaned, and took care of children. I made sure I knew where they were at all times and who their friends were. I took them everywhere with me, my life revolved around my children. I did not drink, stay out past dark, do drugs, make my children feel useless, talk bad about their friends, or become jealous of anyone. I love my mother even though I do not like the way she treated me. I took care of her for three years because I believe in treating people the way I want to be treated. During that time I learned that drinking so much and eating whatever you want at friend's houses or out at restaurants is bad for your health. Mom has had four strokes, she has cancer in her bones, diabetes, blood pressure problems and she is still getting by. However, because of how she treated her children she is alone.