Sir Rantsalot

Been a while, eh?

Just call me Sir Rantsalot because I need to vent.

Mother is looking for another apartment…again. We go through this every few months. This time she has definitely decided not to renew her lease. They have raised the rent too high. So, searching for a new place to live basically consists of me finding the various places, making the calls and (Jason or I) taking her around town to look at them. It’s tiring. She goes along for the ride while all the legwork is done for her. Why do I do this you may ask? Because I feel a responsibility to her. Who else is going to do this? Yes, she could absolutely do the bulk of the work and yes I could be setting those boundaries and demanding that she do the calling and the searching parts. But, really? How many of you could do that? Be honest. I suck at it, I know that. When it comes to my mother I am caught between taking care of her and protecting myself. It’s quite juggling act. Would we be in this position if she had taken my advice years ago? But, I am her daughter and I haven’t lived long enough to possibly know jack squat about life.

Mother, do not date this man, he is stalking you and stealing your house keys.
Mother, do not marry Sonny, he’s a loser.
Mother, he’s dangerous. Do not go back to him after your first divorce.
Mother don’t give up your new house that you had built just for you because the neighbors found out he’s a sex offender.
Mother if you insist on marrying him for the second time at least get a prenuptial agreement to protect yourself.

Mother, he's threatened your children.
Mother, don’t buy him all of those expensive things when he isn’t even working. You are going to give away all of your money to him.
Mother, he is a leech.  Two new SUVs, a new wardrobe and music equipment? And still no job.
Mother, you have to leave this guy. He’s a criminal who chooses not to be rehabilitated, he’s cheating on you, he's taken you on the run with him, etc. etc. etc.
Mother, don’t buy that expensive condo on the beach and then sink all of your money into it to upgrade everything.

Mother, he's threatened your granchildren.

Mother, you found out he's cheating on you and you want us to move you out here?  Okay, we will rescue you.
Mother, when you move out here, stay with us for at least six months. Save up your monthly social security checks so you can put a down payment on someplace or at least have a nice chunk saved up.

(sigh) Well, all of my advice was tossed out the window until it was too late to do much about it. She did not follow any of it. And here we are. All of the money my dad worked years for is gone. She is broke, living check to check and can’t afford her rent. Sonny took her for quite the ride. And she jumped on willingly.   Now I am the responsible one, once more.  I must help her clean up the mess and move forward.  Seems I am always trailing behind her with a bucket and mop.

But, what do I know? I’m just the girl who can’t seem to measure up to what her mother wants her to be. I’m the one who knows nothing about the world. I’m the one who is spoiled and has mental problems.  Right, Mommy?

Yet, here I am again being the mother to my mother.