She won't let you fly, but she mightlet you sing

I debated whether or not I would blog on Mother's Day. As many of you know I tend to rant and ramble and my blogs are generally filled with tangents. But I think its important to put this out here and be done with it.

I love my mother. There I said it...I didn't die. I'm not bursting into flames, and I'm pretty sure that hell didn't just freeze over.

My mom and I have a difficult realtionship. We always have. She was extrememly over-protective and kept me very sheltered. I had a really nasty attitude between the ages of about 12 and 19. I was a smart-ass and I never hesitated to act like an ungrateful child.

At almost 26 years old, I can see where I was a difficult child. I'm also aware if my mom's shortcomings.

Constantly needing to be in control of your grown child is her biggest.

We both have many more, but the fact of the matter is we don't get along.

She thinks that I'm a problem child...that everything I do is wrong or somehow 'evil'.

I think she's still being over-protective and wants to control my life.

I have always hoped that we would meet each other in some middle ground, but as the years progress I doubt it will ever happen.

In January of 2009 I miscarried...I was devastated. I fully understood how my mother must have felt before she had me.

Having a baby is next to impossible for me, and having it ripped away broke me in two. I wanted my mommy to be there for me. But I also needed to be alone with my thoughts and Chuck and I needed to deal with it together.

My biggest issue with my mom is that I feel like she doesn't know when enough is enough. Calling and texting me constantly doesn't actually make me want to talk to you more.

I know that I'm bad with returning phone calls, but are you kidding?

My mother took me to church when I was 4 and we attended until I was at least 19. I grew up in the church, she gave her testimony. I was baptized there. My parents renewed their vows there. I bring all this up because she's turned her back against God. She doesn't believe any more.

If I had told my mother at any age, that I didn't believe I'm pretty sure I would have gotten a lecture about it.

She says she's living her life for herself now, and if she truly feels like she didn't get to that as part of our family before it broke up, then good for her.

I just don't want her to forget who let her sleep in her work clothes for a couple hours on the couch every day after work. Who cooked and cleaned and did her laundry when we lived together after my parents divorced.

Who at 19 was getting in trouble for not calling (which I will admit was wrong) but enjoying some time with friends...when Iworked full time and went to school full time!

I didn't really get to enjoy those early years between high school and being an adult.

Maybe I'm bitter because I feel like she stole that from me. Maybe she's bitter because I don't call.

Maybe we'll be able to make this work one day, and maybe we won't.

I just know that I don't say things aobut her or call her names; because that childish and ridiculous for a 53 year old woman to do that. Or to call my father names...especially when all she wanted was for us to be able to have a relationship again.

I love my mom. She's getting married this July. I wish her all the best.