Guess who's coming to dinner...

Today I received the news that my estranged mother will be attending our annual Christmas dinner at the Chinese food place. My mom's side of the family prefers dining with the Chinese becase:

1) Nobody likes to cook

2) Even though I offer to cook, nobody wants that because eating at someone's house involves foreign concepts like "being a family" for a few hours, and "helping to clean up."


Chew and screw is the general idea, and we've become experts.


Anyway, my mother and I have had various fallings-out since I reached adulthood, the latest of which came when she said that she "shouldn't have to deal with those kids" whenever she comes to town to see ME. I went fucking ballistic and told her that my kids are better people at age 5 then she could ever hope to be and that she has a goddamned nerve talking shit about MY kids, who she doesn't even choose to know. Well, mommy dearest didn't like that little slice of reality, and decided that I don't exist. Again. What the fuck ever, lady, I've got my own shit to deal with. All has been peaceful for a year, and now she has chosen to crash dinner. Fuck fuck fuck.

I've been in serious denial over the situation. So many times I had allowed her back into my life only to take it on the chin all over again. She's manipulative and emotionally abusive, and I've finally become OK with not having a mother who is there for me, and now this. We had a heated email exchange this time last year, and I still have 3 emails sitting in my inbox that I've never opened. Sheer denial. I couldn't cope with it at the time because I KNEW that whatever she had to say would be upsetting to me, so I chose the ostrich approach.

I am again playing ostrich, because I checked my caller ID and saw her number, and I've got a little red flash nagging me from the phone stand. I told the husband that he needs to check the message because I can't. More denial. I am so ordering the scorpion bowl tomorrow.