Conversation with my mother, or, why I dread it

The phone rang. At this hour I knew it has got to be from my mother.

What does she want this time? Is always my first thought. Then I feel guilty about it. More often than not, however, I get to stop feeling guilty because she is calling to add to my shopping list called “Shit to bring home to my families because that’s what you do when you are a Chinese living abroad and you welcome all ways to help assuage your guilt”.

Mom: What are you doing?

Me: Nothing. Putting the kids to bed.

Mom: I am calling to confirm the date and time when you arrive at the airport. Is it 10 pm on December 27?

Me: Yes.

Mom: Ok. … … … What are you doing?

Me: Yelling at the kids to take a bath.

Mom: Why are you always doing that when I call?

Me: Because you always call around this time?

Mom: Oh. Ha ha. Have you eaten yet?

Me: No.

Mom: What time is it now? How come you have not eaten yet? [Then why did you ask me in the first place?!] What are you going to eat?

Me: I don’t know. I am thinking of Ramen noodles.

Mom: What kind? Is it the Korean spicy kind?

This went on for a while. Then my mom repeated the same story she’d told me twice already.

Mom: So and so’s daughter is married to a foreigner too. Her grandson is so cute. Mixed kid, you know. And oh, he’s so adorable when he speaks Chinese. Oh yes, her daughter teaches the boy Chinese at home.

Me: … … …

Mom: Oh, yes, he speaks perfect Chinese.

Me: … … …

Mom: And they are back in Taiwan now.

Me: … … …

Mom: She also just went on a tour around the world [ok, probably not around the world…] with her daughter and her son-in-law. Oh. They took her everywhere.

Me: … … …

Mom: And her daughter is back in Taiwan now with her grandson.

Me: … … …

Mom: Hello? Are you still there? Why aren’t you saying anything?

Me [sighing silently]: So let me guess. Her daughter does not work. [Maybe the bitterness in my voice came through]

Mom [relenting]: Oh right. You have a job. My daughter is so smart and capable. [This was said without sarcasm. My mother does not do sarcasm. I don’t think she knows how.]

Me [wanting to die]: Ok. So why are you telling me about your friend who I do not know. You have told me this a few times.

Mom: Ha ha ha.

[I hate it so much when she says something that bothers me etc, then she tries to cover it up by saying, “I was just joking. You need to lighten up.” Well, no, mom, you were not joking. I have never heard you joke in my whole life.]

Mom: I was just telling you about my friend. You have to be very careful and not overdo it on the computers. She’s so near-sighted that she’s almost blind because she’s spent all her working years on the computer.

Me: Ok.

Mom: Not good to get too high a degree.

[You don’t need a subject when constructing a sentence in Chinese. IMO this greatly contributes to Chinese mothers’ passive aggressive ability because you never know whom they are referring to in their laments. It could be nobody. Yet it could be everybody.]

Mom: So smart. What’s the use? Get a degree and leave and not come back.

Me [bracing myself for the impact]: … … …

Mom: Just like my daughter, right?

Me [really wanting to die now]: … … …

Mom: Now just counting the days until my daughter comes home again.

Me [Must. Pretend. I. Did. Not. Hear. This. Because. There. Is. Nothing. I. Can. Do.] … … …

Mom: Alrighty then. You must be tired. Have you eaten yet?

Me: No.

Mom: Why not?

[I thought to myself, “We are waiting for Godot”, and became more depressed because this would be a joke that my folks would never ever get…]

Me: Because I have been talking to you on the phone?

Mom: Oh. Ha ha. Remember to add an egg when you cook your Ramen noodles.

Me [Still wanting to die]: Ok. Bye mom.

 

 

So far in my luggages, there are FOUR Coach bags, 1 pair of Coach shoes, expensive eye cream, face lotion, anti-wrinkle lotion, unicorn magical hair to eliminate wrinkle from someone who’s almost 80, etc etc etc.

Why do I still feel guilty?

Why do I feel guilty that I did not goof off at school, drop out, work at some seedy places, meet rich older men, become their mistresses, bear boy children for them, become a lady of leisure so I can hang out all the time, and buy houses and cars for my parents?

Fuck. this. shit.

 

 

39 thoughts on “Conversation with my mother, or, why I dread it

  1. Ameena

    Oh my. How I can relate. I think it’s a cultural thing you know? It’s like no matter what you do it’s never, ever good enough. Ever. And sometimes I give up trying! And then other days I realize I’m 35 years old and I need to live my life for me. And sometimes I’m successful. And sometimes, not so much.

    I hope the trip is better than you think it’ll be. (I won’t say good because I’m way too realistic for that.)

    Thinking of you! Relating to you! Happy Holidays my friend.
    Ameena recently posted…mickey d’sMy Profile

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  2. Jack

    It could be nobody. Yet it could be everybody.
    I really liked that line. Sorry, it is the writer in me. Anyway, if you move away from home you can’t win. There is always some kind of guilt involved.

    I don’t know if that makes it any better or easier, but…
    Jack recently posted…I Hate Toys That Make NoiseMy Profile

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  3. Naptimewriting

    Read “You’re Wearing THAT?” subtitled something about women and their mothers. They mean well, mostly. But not entirely. We hear judgement where there is none. Mostly.

    It’s a linguistic study of American mothers and their adult daughters but a lot will sound familiar.

    But still, kill me if I have to hear another story about a friend’s daughter who is WAY better than me in something. Is there nothing of my mother’s day she’s like to share? Why always with the stories of other people’s grown daughters who are so successful?
    Naptimewriting recently posted…‘Twas the day before the night before ChristmasMy Profile

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    1. Absence Alternatives Post author

      With my mother it’s this frustration that sometimes she makes me feel that she’d rather I became some rich man’s mistress so I had the means to buy her shit. I know I am most likely being irrational and behaving like a spoiled brat, but… otherwise why would she be telling me so and so bought her mom this and that all the time? (Yes, there is a whole entire post on the peculiar social circles my family keeps…)

      Reply
  4. Tom G.

    If it’s any consolation, which it’s not, this is the same conversation that every child who has ever left home & their socio-economic place in the family ancestry behind for a life elswhere, has with their Mom. American, German, Chinese, Lebanese, Indian, passive aggressive Mother’s, like laughter, are the same in all languages.

    However, this statement “You don’t need a subject when constructing a sentence in Chinese. IMO this greatly contributes to Chinese mothers’ passive aggressive ability because you never know whom they are referring to in their laments. It could be nobody. Yet it could be everybody.” makes me sooooooo happy my Mom does not speak Chinese.
    Tom G. recently posted…EntropyMy Profile

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  5. writerwoman61

    I lived thousands of miles away from my mom for my whole adult life…I’m glad she never tried to make me feel guilty about it (even though I did – she was chronically ill, and I left it up to my brother to make sure she was okay).

    I bet your mom brags about you all the time to her friends…you’re smart and funny and beautiful!

    Have a wonderful holiday, Lin!

    Hugs,
    Wendy
    writerwoman61 recently posted…And the Winner is…My Profile

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    1. Absence Alternatives Post author

      My theory is that it started out as a byproduct of a patriarchal society: women get their positions in life from their MALE children. They sacrifice everything for the children and therefore there is this expectation…

      Reply
  6. Life in the Boomer Lane

    I thought I couldn’t love your posts more, but now I do. This gets to the heart of so much emotion/guilt so many of us carry around. My mom is long gone, the dynamics are completely different, yet this so resonates with me, thinking about some conversations I’ve had with my daughter in London. And I’m the silent one. The best writing there is teaches us more about ourselves than about the author or any fictional characters. Bravo. Oh, and then, please let future calls go to voice mail.
    Life in the Boomer Lane recently posted…Take my knee. Please.My Profile

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  7. colleen

    OMG, it is exactly like a conversation with my German mother-in-law. I cringe and feel your pain.
    Please realize its not you, you are made of awesome. I have a theory about why they (mothers) do this, but am lazy and do not want to type it all in your comments 😉
    Remember, Made.Of.Awesome = You

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