Baby Sitting

When my father had been in the nursing home for quite a while it seemed she had began to miss his company. I was calling in a couple of times a week so she could see her Grand Son and at times she actually appeared glad to have a visitor. She mentioned several times she would like to look after him for a little while if there was anything I needed to get done or somewhere I needed to go. I was unsure if she was lonely, competing for the award for best Grand Ma with her neighbour Ruby or, to give her the benefit of the doubt in her old age, she actually genuinely was taken with my little lad and wanted to spend some time with him. I doubted it was out of concern for me being a busy Mom in need of a break.

I watched her closely as they interacted. She liked to chop some fruit for him, she talked to him and watched TV with him, coloured and drew with him and particularly liked to read to him so we usually took a selection of books and she bought him a few herself too. He was a very gentle, easy little soul, not a tear away and happy to do sitting down activities and loved puzzles and building toys. I discussed it with my Husband and said maybe we should give her a chance. I was still forever waiting for the thing that would trigger her to be normal and harboured a hope that having a Grandchild maybe it. So one Saturday visit, when she had surprisingly stopped her regular afternoon bingo trip of late, we needed to go to the DIY store and she was eager to take my lad while we went. So we left him with her for about 1 1/2 hours. I called to check all was well and she had strict instructions to call us if there was any problem. We arrived back to find her quite excited about what a lovely time they had had, my lad chatting happily to her and the room with an array of books and toys and puzzles scattered about. So all was well then. In a call the next day she expressed how she had enjoyed having him and she had a lovely nap afterwards.

She wanted him again next Saturday too. The next week she was all smiles as we dropped him off, he was excited too. We went home for a while and did a few jobs and when I picked him up she was cheerful but commented she was going to have a rest now as she was not as young as she was. Fair enough. I never asked her to take him, I always left her to offer, that way I could not be accused of taking advantage of her for baby sitting. The following week she eyed me up and down to see if I was dressed to go somewhere nice, we were going grocery shopping I told her. She seemed pleasant but the level of interest had definitely dipped. We were not much more than an hour and arrived to find a few books out and my lad watching TV with a selection of snacks, she also had her knitting and a library book out by her chair. She prompted us to go soon after as she hadn`t slept well the night before and was very tired. On asking, my Son told me they had read books for a while and then he had watched telly while Grand Ma did her knitting and read her own books. The novelty of baby sitting seemed to be wearing off. Next call I was asked was I bringing him on Saturday, not would I. I asked did she want me to and I got a cool "Yes OK". So we dropped him off and she was noticeably less thrilled to have him, saying she had already put the TV on the channel he liked. Alarm bells ringing I was away barely 45 mins and she opened the door looking agitated, he apparently wasn`t bothered about watching TV and she told me he was bored with the toys I had packed for him.

Next phone call I was immediately informed how worn out she was after having him and children were hard work for someone of her age. I did not mention her having him again however the following week she called to say she was ill and not to bring him. Shall I pop over to see you I suggested, a little mischievously as I was convinced she was lying. That would not be necessary I was informed as she was taking to her bed to rest. She`ll be off to Bingo... my Husband surmised... the novelty has worn off, surely you knew it wouldn`t last long. I nodded my agreement but to satisfy myself I called her, several times in fact, during the time I knew she was usually out at Bingo. No answer. Not until later that evening when she answered very cheerily and said she felt so much better now she was `well rested`. Neither of us ever mentioned Saturday afternoon babysitting again. Though for a few weeks, just to satisfy my suspicions, I called her every Saturday afternoon, there was never any answer. 

On Parade

My Mother had a neighbour who she was fr-enemies with, as the saying goes. They were either thick as thieves and gossiping and not speaking and giving each other daggers.  It was the same neighbour who she enlisted to help her announce to my father he was to go into a home.

When they first moved there she had a go at telling her my Fathers faults, at the same time spinning it as if she was the long suffering, down trodden wife, the neighbour who we will call Ruby swallowed it at first. She collared me more than once expressing concern for my Mothers treatment both by my Father and me myself. I diplomatically suggested there was far more to it than anything my Mother had fed her. A year or so later, after many a falling out and my Mother blowing hot and cold on her a few times, she quietly told me she now understood the problem was my Mother. I wasn`t her biggest fan, she was a busybody, pushy and loud but when you got past that she had a good heart and helped Mother out despite her often having cut her dead for a month or two previously. 
 Ruby had a Grand Son who she doted on and she cooked and cared for him regularly, as I say, she had a good heart. Ruby also boasted about all she did for him and his family to my Mother, perhaps enjoying that it rubbed her up the wrong way as she could not trump her on that score. When my lad arrived she would often call Ruby to see him, glowing with pride as any Grand Mother would be, save the fact that her beaming smile dimmed somewhat when she had done boasting. She announced to me, when he was now a toddler, that she wanted to take him for a stroll up and down the road. Now I asked...."oh No, not now, I ain`t ad me air done". She decided my pushchair was too bulky for her to manoeuvre so we bought a smaller, more light weight one, which was handy to leave in the car as a spare. She was quite put out one visit when I told her it wasn`t in the boot that day as we had been taking some things to the tip. She was sullen all visit and I noticed she was dressed up with a full face of makeup and her hair done. 

So next time I called the front door swung open before I could ring the bell. Without even saying Hello or glancing at my lad she barked "Av ya remembered the pushchair". She is smartly dressed and looks like she is going out to dinner rather than a stroll with a little one in a buggy. I ask where she intends going and she says just up and down the road, she won`t be too long. She wants to go by herself so I stay with Father. Its not a long road and I`m expecting them back in 10 or 15 mins but after 45 mins there is still no sign of them. I`m worried now and am just about to go and look for them when she rings the bell. My lad has fallen asleep, not that she has noticed. She`s giddy with all the attention shes garnered. Rather than a stroll enjoying time with her Grand Son she has actually been knocking on all the neighbours doors to show them my lad and show her new outfit and hair do and play the doting Grand Mother and milk the charade for all it was worth. Anything Ruby can do she can do better !! No wonder she was so long, so long in fact the little lad fell asleep while she was chewing somebody`s ear off.

It wasn`t long before she wanted to take him for a stroll again except things did not quite go to plan second time around. She was back quite quickly with my lad wide awake, clearly not in the mood to conventionally take a nap this time. She is straight faced and tells me he`s been restless and before long she is suggesting I take him home as he`s tired. Naturally as he wouldn`t accommodate Grand ma`s plans he is to be dismissed.

The novelty of taking her Grand Son for a stroll wore off soon after.

Say Cheese

I don`t have a great many photos of myself from childhood. I was born in the mid 60`s so taking and having photos developed took a little bit of effort and cost money, unlike today`s instant pics and digital storage. And anything that required a little effort and wasn`t about my Mother was usually not on the cards. The ones I do have are what I have heard referred to as trophy photos. When challenged about the way they treated me one time they defended themselves by saying they had a tin of photos proving they had always cared for me !

Narcissistic Mothers love a good selection of trophy photos. Photos were taken on holiday or if we were dressed up for some reason, there were a handful of studio taken ones and maybe 4 or 5 school ones and I think just one from Christmas at home where I was ordered to pretend to carve the turkey because that would just look so Christmassy right ? 
The camera was never picked up to savour those `of the moment` memories. They were always posed and never natural, we were always on parade as it were and the picture was then kept as a kind of proof that we were a happy family who lived a wonderful life, well dressed, well cared for, laughing and joking and having fun. Nothing could be further from the truth. Usually tense and wary I tended to smile with my mouth closed rather than a very wide toothy grin ready to break into laughter. Mother didn`t like that, Show ya teeth Amanda she would bark. 
I never liked having my photo taken as many people don`t. Not only was I self-conscious but I always found fault with myself and feeling not good enough I naturally felt I never looked good enough either. 
 Looking through the very sparse selection to see what I can post I noticed in the ones of me took by my Mother I had just about made it into the corner of the shot. That`s just where she liked me to be, almost out of the picture, on the sidelines. 

Taken in the garden of my Aunt`s cottage

Western Super Mare~1960`s

Our car, Mother`s chair, carefully positioned by the windbreaker and Dear Little Amanda, well half of her I suppose ! I was proudly showing the sandcastle I had made, not that you would know !

I was allowed a rare treat of a pony ride on one holiday. I had a passion for horses and begged for a photo to be taken. When they were developed there were two, one with half a pony and one with me decapitated. Oh how she laughed.

At my Aunt`s Cottage

`Sit up properly Amanda.....oh, you weren`t showin ya teeth` I never knew why showing my teeth was so important other than proof they hadn`t been punched down my throat.

 I had the most gorgeous photo taken of my daughter at her toddler group. I was thrilled with it and told my Mother how beautiful she looked. When I delightedly showed her the photo the broad smile fell of her face as she exclaimed with bitter disappointment..."oh..er ain`t showin er teeth". I could of bloody throttled her. My own fault really, running to Mother with something to show her you were thrilled about only ever ended one way....she produced a nice sharp pin to burst your bubble with.

She would have her photo taken with the children if she was dolled up but otherwise she would protest and say she didn`t look very good. As a narcissist it never registered the photo was about a happy snapshot with the Grand children not about her perfect image.

Any photos of the children I had developed would be rifled through, the perfectly posed ones she would help herself to and I often noticed them stuffed behind something when the novelty and bragging was over, often creased or marked in someway. I got wise to this and began only showing her the ones I was happy for her loose or damage.

My wedding photo went up and down off the wall like a yoyo depending on if I was in favour or not. When she died I found it at the bottom of a draw.

This one which has been cut around was from my dear Uncles house after he died. He had cut it so it would slip into the edge of a frame holding a photo of his other niece and nephew, I thought that was so nice. What she had tried to do to my hair I have no idea.

I`ll leave you all my Money

When my Husband was still my boyfriend and we were renting a flat before we bought our house, my Father was taken into hospital after a particularly nasty chest infection. This left my Mother alone at home for probably the first time ever at the age of 63.

Early in our relationship and quite happy at this time as well as enjoying our first home together and all the fun that brings, my Mother had been quiet and watchful of late. Looking on as her daughter had a decent home for once and seemed happy and settled was not something that would gladden the heart of a Narcissistic Mother. We both worked at the same place and were happily doing overtime to buy things for our flat and naturally I was thrilled to be `nest feathering` and took a pride making it as comfortable as possible.
 Realising my Father was quite poorly she immediately began to play on her nerves, being agitated and fretful and worrying my Father with her endless `what if this happens`. She was never ever one to try and cope come what may to avoid burdening others. And so Father went into hospital. We went to visit him, took him what he needed and also visited her, making sure she had all she needed too. She did not visit him as she `wasn`t up to it`. She withdrew into herself and I struggled to get any sense out of her when I called, she was increasingly in her night clothes, did no household chores and was eating snack meals. I cleaned and cooked her something and became increasingly worried about her. I called her several times each day as well as calling in each evening after work, my boyfriend visiting my Father on occasion to help spread meeting our obligations as well as both working long days. 

Its hard to say how much of my Mothers mental health issues were real. I do believe the thought of being without my Father and having to be at home alone, other than my frequent visits, was a shock and she was maybe thinking ahead with dread that he would no longer be up to butler duties. But its a certainty she also would make out she was far worse to ensure my ready attendance in dancing to her every whim and added to that she got to keep me away from playing house in my lovely home which she was clearly jealous of. I was genuinely concerned though my other half was less convinced as she became more and more shut down. She began calling us at work, 4 or 5 times one day. When I assured her I would be over as soon as I could she threw a tantrum and said she needed us now, both of us for some reason I cannot remember now. Her parting shot was to say sharply "I`ll leave you all my money"....as if this wild bribe would make it fine for us both to abandon our jobs to be enslaved to her until my father was well again. Work was sympathetic and allowed us both to take a few of our holiday days to be at her beck and call. Not an ideal use of precious days off but at least we would still get paid though we would miss out on valuable overtime. My biggest fear was she may cut her wrists again. When I asked her some basic questions, like who was Queen, what month was it and the name of a soap character she loved, she was either unable to answer or chose not to so I decided to ask her Dr`s advice.

He told me she was on max medication and I got the impression he had a `here we go again` view of the situation. He did seem quite sympathetic to my concerns about her being on her own whilst I was at work though. He then said quite an odd but insightful thing. He said he would visit her and if she acted like she was detached and distressed he would most likely have her admitted to the local hospital psych ward and commented and I quote "When she gets in there and sees what it`s like and the condition of the other patients she will most likely realise shes not as bad as she thinks she is and I`m betting we will see a marked improvement pretty quickly". I rang off and thought long and hard about his statement. It seemed he was saying `let`s give her what she wants and see how she likes it`. Looking back I think he had the measure of my Mother.
 I then had the job of visiting my Father and telling him all this, at the same time trying not to distress and worry him too much. My main fear was that he would think I had shipped her out asap as I didn`t want to care for her, after all everything was usually my fault and I was bound to be accused of not doing enough, the other side of that being if I had left her at home and something dreadful had happened I would then be accused of not realising how in need of help she was. As ever I simply could not win. I explained the situation as gently as I could to him and he seemed to understand and agreed it was probably the best thing to do. 

I took her in and she brightened up considerably on getting attention from the staff, she seemed more then happy as I left her. I visited both of them regularly, telling my Father how my Mother was doing and my Mother telling me all about the excellent care and attention she was getting, for a while at least. There was then some issue over her indigestion meds and she was back to her old venomous self when I next visited, telling me how nasty a nurse was to her and had made her wait until the drugs trolley came around like everyone else had to. The novelty of being admitted had worn off and she was anxious to know when Father was going home as she wanted to see him and if she was there she could make sure he was alright !!!..... She really did beggar belief at times. This sudden change in her only served as evidence to my other half that it really was put on all along and there were a few heated words between us about wasted holidays and lost overtime money.
 Somehow she convinced the medical team that she was greatly improved and as my Father was coming home she just wanted them both to be together.....what a charming tale of mutual devotion she spun...and how far from the truth.  
 With them both back at home together I continued to visit and attend to their wants and needs for a week or so until I was quite abruptly told they could now manage quite well by themselves thank you. Not long after that I received a nasty call from my Father informing me that I could not wait to get my Mother in hospital and off my hands and how she had hated it there and had been longing for the day when he could go home and she would then be allowed to be discharged. It sounded as if she had spun him a tale of having to go in as no one would look after her {meaning me} . I tried to reason with him and defend myself but he knew he was on a mission and seeing my side of the story as not part of the brief. 
 I remember feeling such a fool and as if all my care, concern and worrying counted for nothing, not to mention the tension in my relationship it had caused. I was then quite ill myself with a horrible cold followed by a chest infection, which I went to work with and battled through as I dare not lose any more time or money.