I bring this up because somehow I’ve never had this point come up with my parents: regarding when I’d want to have kids, how many, or what I think it would be like. It occurred to me after this weekend that they’d never asked, either.
That’s where I think the weekend with mom really went awry in a sense. We didn’t really talk about anything in the hours when she was here, unless it was related to cleaning, my new house, or yard work. Anything about what we were up to or any changes that’ve gone on in our lives were just not talked about.
I figured there was time, that they’d hang another day or so and we could relax and hang out. And I was dreading it in some way, too. Maybe because I don’t want to talk to mom about politics, it means she can’t think of anything else to talk about.
Other than seeing the place and a few basic questions, there was nothing.
Nothing personal, really, unless I gave a lengthy answer somewhere and incorporated it in. It felt strange, and somehow I felt more alone after the visit than I did before. No wonder dishes are piling up in the sink–I am rebelling against my days spent frantically cleaning this place to merit her approval.
It got me thinking how interested in my life she really is, or in me as her daughter and as a person. There were no questions about men in my life, no questions as far as my job or anything.
I’d been led to believe–thank you shitty TV–that parents always want to know what’s going on, perhaps so they can “improve” things.
And I’ve always heard about the dreaded talk from parents, asking when you’re going to start a family or what you’ll do next (or who you’re dating when NOT married).
It makes me wonder if that’s just a product of Hollywood imagination, because I don’t think I’ve ever had the question asked of me.
How many of you have had to endure the talk about your future (as in marriage and babies) with your parents? How did you handle it? Did you have it with your own kids?
Or is this just a case of things going way wrong in la-la land and no parents really ask those questions anymore (or ever)?
Floor’s yours… I’m gonna lose sleep contemplating it if I’m not careful. Time to turn in and think of something else for a while.