Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Good Mood, Good Cop, Good Deal
Mom's bedtime was 2300 tonight, so it'll be 1100 tomorrow, if she doesn't awaken on her own before then.
I couldn't help it, I was curious to see if she was going to stand by her Bad Mood statements this morning. This evening, sometime after exercising, during one of the commercials on Dr. Phil (not one of her constant favorites but she'd caught a commercial last night that tonight's show was going to be about desperate husbands and she asked me to remind her to watch it tonight) I gently advanced.
"Mom," I asked, "do you remember your bad mood this morning?"
She gave me one of her tight lipped, no curls at the edges, "fuck you" grins. I wasn't sure if that meant, "Yeah, I remember...ya wanna make somethin' of it?" or "Bad Mood?!? Me?!?" but it didn't matter. I pressed on.
"You mentioned two things and I wondered if they reflect your true desires (I hammed it up on "true desires" to lighten the mood)."
"Well, if I said them, I'm sure I meant them."
"Well, let me run them by you, just in case. First, you said that you didn't like the home baked bread as much as store bought bread."
Her eyebrows shot up as though she was accusing me of lying.
I continued. "So, I was wondering, should I stop making bread in the bread machine?" She was munching on a piece of fresh 100% whole wheat bread, which turned out mighty fine, thank you, spread with home made raspberry honey butter, while I was asking her this.
"Heavens no, child!"
"You like it, then?"
"This is delicious!" I'd insisted that we both try a piece without anything followed by a piece with the spread.
"Okay. I'll probably make the potato bread this weekend."
"Mmmmm! Wonderful! [Her deceased sister] made awfully good potato bread, you know."
"I know. One of the very few regrets of my life was that I never asked her to teach me how to make it before she, you know, wasn't able to teach me, anymore."
"I know. I've made bread by hand but I've never been very good at it."
"I know."
She shot me another "fuck you" grin.
"Well, you know, I remember on Guam, sometimes it turned out and sometimes it didn't."
"Could have been the humidity, you know."
"Yeah, and it could have been that the flour was usually alive and the yeast usually wasn't."
We both laughed at the shared memories.
"What else?" she prompted.
I was surprised she prompted me. Exercise becomes her, even though she doesn't think so. "Well, you know, the Deadwood DVDs of the first season are due to arrive tomorrow. You said this morning that you didn't want to watch it anymore..."
Another sharp glance of shock. "I what?!? You must have misunderstood."
"No, I told you, you were in a bad mood."
"Well, I guess I really must have been. Of course I want to see the first season."
"And you want to keep the DVDs?"
"Of course!"
"The violence and the language really doesn't bother you?"
A last long, sly glance. "I've heard those words once before."
I posed innocence. "Really! I can't imagine where..."
"Why was I in a bad mood?"
"Oh, because you didn't want to walker around New Frontiers with me and I was insisting."
She looked back at the TV. "Oh. Well, that's a good reason to be in a bad mood."
"Yeah, I learned my lesson."
It was after this that our discussion of walkering, the whys and wherefores, took place, which I covered in today's exercise session post over at =>Moving =>Mom.
So, everything turned out okay. When I was thinking about it I realized that good psychological tactics between peers in a relationship (and, for all practical purposes, my mother and I are peers in living together) doesn't imply manipulation, successful or otherwise. If one of the relators is manipulating the other, then the manipulator doesn't consider the manipulated a peer. Sometimes, as in the case of a parent-to-child relationship, manipulation works, but, of course, once the child becomes an adult it does nothing but strain the relationship. As well, if the relators in any relationship have been acknowledging each other as peers, when manipulation begins relating stops, whether or not the one on whom the manipulation is being attempted is aware of this. Although I'd never consciously lingualized this to myself, I try to practice non-manipulative psychology, which involves truth telling and revisiting difficult and easy moments, all the time with my mother. It takes a greater amount of effort to practice this with someone who has short and long term memory blips but it's worth the effort. If I didn't do this I know our relationship wouldn't remain dynamic. It would stagnate in the Caregiver/Care Recipient Zone and both of us would be the poorer for it.
Other things are on my mind, observations I noticed tonight, other things I thought about, but, well, I've got my mind on tomorrow and I need to arise early, so...
...later.
I couldn't help it, I was curious to see if she was going to stand by her Bad Mood statements this morning. This evening, sometime after exercising, during one of the commercials on Dr. Phil (not one of her constant favorites but she'd caught a commercial last night that tonight's show was going to be about desperate husbands and she asked me to remind her to watch it tonight) I gently advanced.
"Mom," I asked, "do you remember your bad mood this morning?"
She gave me one of her tight lipped, no curls at the edges, "fuck you" grins. I wasn't sure if that meant, "Yeah, I remember...ya wanna make somethin' of it?" or "Bad Mood?!? Me?!?" but it didn't matter. I pressed on.
"You mentioned two things and I wondered if they reflect your true desires (I hammed it up on "true desires" to lighten the mood)."
"Well, if I said them, I'm sure I meant them."
"Well, let me run them by you, just in case. First, you said that you didn't like the home baked bread as much as store bought bread."
Her eyebrows shot up as though she was accusing me of lying.
I continued. "So, I was wondering, should I stop making bread in the bread machine?" She was munching on a piece of fresh 100% whole wheat bread, which turned out mighty fine, thank you, spread with home made raspberry honey butter, while I was asking her this.
"Heavens no, child!"
"You like it, then?"
"This is delicious!" I'd insisted that we both try a piece without anything followed by a piece with the spread.
"Okay. I'll probably make the potato bread this weekend."
"Mmmmm! Wonderful! [Her deceased sister] made awfully good potato bread, you know."
"I know. One of the very few regrets of my life was that I never asked her to teach me how to make it before she, you know, wasn't able to teach me, anymore."
"I know. I've made bread by hand but I've never been very good at it."
"I know."
She shot me another "fuck you" grin.
"Well, you know, I remember on Guam, sometimes it turned out and sometimes it didn't."
"Could have been the humidity, you know."
"Yeah, and it could have been that the flour was usually alive and the yeast usually wasn't."
We both laughed at the shared memories.
"What else?" she prompted.
I was surprised she prompted me. Exercise becomes her, even though she doesn't think so. "Well, you know, the Deadwood DVDs of the first season are due to arrive tomorrow. You said this morning that you didn't want to watch it anymore..."
Another sharp glance of shock. "I what?!? You must have misunderstood."
"No, I told you, you were in a bad mood."
"Well, I guess I really must have been. Of course I want to see the first season."
"And you want to keep the DVDs?"
"Of course!"
"The violence and the language really doesn't bother you?"
A last long, sly glance. "I've heard those words once before."
I posed innocence. "Really! I can't imagine where..."
"Why was I in a bad mood?"
"Oh, because you didn't want to walker around New Frontiers with me and I was insisting."
She looked back at the TV. "Oh. Well, that's a good reason to be in a bad mood."
"Yeah, I learned my lesson."
It was after this that our discussion of walkering, the whys and wherefores, took place, which I covered in today's exercise session post over at =>Moving =>Mom.
So, everything turned out okay. When I was thinking about it I realized that good psychological tactics between peers in a relationship (and, for all practical purposes, my mother and I are peers in living together) doesn't imply manipulation, successful or otherwise. If one of the relators is manipulating the other, then the manipulator doesn't consider the manipulated a peer. Sometimes, as in the case of a parent-to-child relationship, manipulation works, but, of course, once the child becomes an adult it does nothing but strain the relationship. As well, if the relators in any relationship have been acknowledging each other as peers, when manipulation begins relating stops, whether or not the one on whom the manipulation is being attempted is aware of this. Although I'd never consciously lingualized this to myself, I try to practice non-manipulative psychology, which involves truth telling and revisiting difficult and easy moments, all the time with my mother. It takes a greater amount of effort to practice this with someone who has short and long term memory blips but it's worth the effort. If I didn't do this I know our relationship wouldn't remain dynamic. It would stagnate in the Caregiver/Care Recipient Zone and both of us would be the poorer for it.
Other things are on my mind, observations I noticed tonight, other things I thought about, but, well, I've got my mind on tomorrow and I need to arise early, so...
...later.
