I enjoyed writing yesterday’s post so much that I decided to dedicate this week to Mother’s Day posts. Yes, I missed Monday, but I still have excuses.

So, while meditating (which really means taking a nap) I thought about the disowning issue. I realized that disownment is nothing more than the following:

“Retroactive Abortion”.

So, from now on, I will call disownment “Retroactive Abortion”.

The other thing I realized is that the name “Mother’s Day” implies neither good nor bad. So that means that it’s actually open season on mothers everywhere. So, this week, I will pay homage to my mother.

Today, we examine the justifiable reasons for disownment, from my mother’s perspective. Remember, these are the opinions of a dangerous and crazy person; not your normal everyday human being. I have actually been retroactively aborted many, many more than four times, as I mentioned yesterday.

A story before I give you the list:

I have a running joke about my mother’s will(s). I always say that she has about six wills in rotation that she capriciously re-executes depending on who is in and who is out on a daily basis. There is michelle-good, brother-bad, michelle-bad, brother-good, michelle-bad, brother-bad, and everything-goes-to-my-dog-she-stole-from-me will. I can see it now. “Hey Joe (their lawyer), can we re-execute will 2.02? Michelle is pissing me off, but her brother is sucking up to me this week.”

Michelle’s Mother’s Reasons for Retroactive Abortion:

Never drive after 9 p.m.

It is against my mother’s beliefs that a woman should drive after 9 p.m. for safety reasons. Therefore, she decided that if I were in a serious or mortal accident after 9 p.m., she would not go to the hospital or make any effort to assist me.

Having a mixed-race child is the equivalent of animal cruelty.

There came a time when someone in my family dated a black person. My mother was “okay” with that (but very racist behind their backs), but determined that retroactive abortion would be instituted permanently if the two married and had a mixed-race child. She equivocated a mixed-race child to the same as animal cruelty, as if the child were the animal.

You must make at least six figures annually by the time you are 30 years old.

Although my mother worked very little in her life, she is extremely intelligent. I mean, weird smart. But, she learned how to take advantage of her husband to live the social life, and then married well the second time. She requires that her children climb the corporate ladder so that she has something to be proud of when talking to her friends. If we fail to meet this criteria, she instead rips us to her friends. As long as we work corporate, climb the ladder and make six figures, we are one foot in the hole to being in the will.

You may not be fat at any time.

My mother is 5′10″, olive complected, long-ass nose, frizzy hair, and very skinny naturally. I don’t even think I came out of her vajayjay. She is extremely prejudiced of overweight people (she’s a total bigot about everyone; especially race); even by 10 or 15 pounds. She will not befriend any woman who is overweight, and she excludes me from her socializing except to work as a “servant” for her parties. When my SIL gained ten pounds, my mother stopped asking her to attend her social events. When I was younger and fat, my mother used to make me chew and then spit out my food to try to lose weight. I was like, eight years old.

You may not, at any time, adopt another person’s child.

My brother has a totally awesome wife. I love her with all my heart. Her daughter (I call her my “real” niece) is the most awesome kid in the whole world. Unfortunately, she has no real father to speak of, even though he exists. Should an adoption occur with my niece, my brother will immediately be written out of the will permanently because my mother does not want her money going eventually to a person that is not of blood.

Loyalty is absolute. There are no alternatives.

My mother has a saying: “I do not expect love. I demand loyalty.” She runs the family like a mafioso family. The most important thing to her is to make everything about her, no matter what she does in her life. No other individuals are allowed to take any sun away from her. She will make every situation you are in about her. I was told that my responsibility at her death was to be there holding her hand, and that my brother’s responsibility was finances. If I failed to comply, she would never forgive me. My statement back to her was, “I will never do anything for you out of loyalty; only love.”

Suffering

My mother told me on several occasions that the role of a mother is to “make her children suffer so that she knows her children will do anything that they need to do to make it in this world under any circumstance.” Therefore, my mother has spent a lifetime (well, her children’s lifetimes) creating situations of great suffering in order to “toughen us up”. She watches our responses, and if we fail the grade, we are removed from the will. She continues to create suffering, hoping to “grow us into people that can handle any circumstance.” No, I am seriously not kidding on this one. Any situation that her children get into where we need help, we are completely rebuffed and told that we made our bed and we need to lay in it. Even if that means sleeping on the street; which, by the way, I have done many time because she was unwilling to help me.

In Conclusion

There are so many more, but that’s a good start. So the next time you think about your mom, make the comparison. Did she beat you as a child daily? Did she abuse you verbally and emotionally? Did she beat your head into a car over and over? Did she try to kill you with a shotgun? Did she put you out on the street multiple times between the ages of 14 and 16 where you had to sleep on the streets? Has she ever left you far away from home, kicked out of the car, too young to find your way home? Did she drink every night, play the piano at 2 a.m. and vacuum at the same time, and then come into your room, wake you up, puke all over you and beat you?

If not, please, please honor your mother this weekend. I would give anything in this world, every possession I own, change the affluent community in which I grew up just to have my mother hug me and tell me she loved me, hold me when I hurt, and be there for me when I need to talk. And never say to me, “Well, at least you have a mother; mine is no longer alive. Or, I never had a mother.” Trust me; I would be much more well adjusted had I no mother than endure what my mother did to me growing up and continues to do to me this day.

Thank god she told me that her life is too busy to have me in it right now. It’s been relatively quiet, and that’s been really nice!