An Awkward Conversation with My Mother

It was bound to happen sooner or later.. my mother has found out about my blog. Well, okay, I exaggerate. She KNEW about it.. I kind of told her at one point.. but I did tell her that she really shouldn’t read it. After all, she’d likely find out about stuff that she really didn’t want to know.

Like, the fact that my language is peppered with colourful phrases, of which she will definitely not approve. I cannot help that I am a somewhat expressive person who has a tendency to sometimes talk like a sailor on leave. I’m just that way. I also do not wish for my mother to be aware of my romantic situations (or more correctly, lack there of..). Not that I’m secretive or anything.. after all, I wouldn’t be blogging the crap out of my life.. But it’s one thing for friends or even complete strangers to know what you’re doing.. BUT it’s ENTIRELY DIFFERENT to discover YOUR MOTHER knows what you are up to.

When I was in high school, my mother would freak me right out. I learned at a very young age how to sign both parents signatures.. and therefore would forge “get out of jail free” cards once in a while to get out of class. However, after every afternoon of hooky, I’d come home to find that my mother already knew that I hadn’t been to class!! SOMEHOW she would find out.. not from the school.. likely from a neighbour or whomever.. who may have seen me and my friends screwing around at the mall or what have you. THAT, my friends was enough to spook me straight (not straight enough to never skip again.. just to be more careful). However, it taught me that I really don’t want her knowing any more than she absolutely has to.

It’s not because I don’t like my mother or anything. On the contrary, she is wonderful.. I love her very much. I enjoy spending time with her. I find my mother (both my parents actually..) to be very interesting, funny people with whom I can talk endlessly about various topics and enjoy every moment of the conversation. I just don’t want the conversations to be about ME.. for the most part.. (unless they are telling amusing stories about what a hilarious child I was. That is acceptable.)

Anyhow, last week my mother and I were having a phone conversation and the subject of my blog came up…

“Your sister tells me that you’ve been writing things and that they are really funny”
“Oh, my blog?”
“Yes. She says it’s funnier than the columnist in the paper here that writes about her life.”
“Well, I AM pretty funny.. hahaha”
“When are you going to send them to me?”
“Send what?”
“Your stories”

*crickets*

“Uhhhhh… I’m not sure you should be reading my blog, Mother. *Laughs*”
“But why not?”
“uhhhhh… well… I’m not sure you WANT to know… plus the language…”
“Language?”
“Well I do swear occasionally….”
“Oh, Beth. You do not need to use swear words!”

See? I’m FORTY FREAKIN’ FOUR, people. Yet, I am still about 15 around my mother. I just really don’t feel that she needs to know certain things about me.. like about how men have sent me intimate pictures of themselves through the joy known as online dating… nor does she need to know that I have referred to myself as being “easier than a five year old’s homework”…. also not necessary for her to know that random 27 year old boys in bars hit on me.. or that the closest thing I have to a romantic life is flirting with boys online.. or that one of my favourite weekend activities involves corn liquor, hillbillies and random farm animals (okay, I made up that one for effect, but I think maybe you see my point…)

My mother and I eventually reached a compromise. I would send her the text of some of the blogs I felt she might enjoy via email, and she would not read them online. Really, it’s for her own good. I am only thinking of her peace of mind and MY personal safety. So if you run into her, remember that I prefer to keep her updated on my charitable contributions and church related activities only.

NOW I just have to make sure she doesn’t sign up for Facebook……

Life: Had a great weekend. Spent time with some old friends and with my mom. She bought me things. I love her very much. But I still don’t want her reading this….
Love: I have nothing to report.
Pants: An ongoing battle. But I did have to buy a belt over the weekend for all my baggy ones…

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