Well, well...

If there's anyone who has been wondering why they haven't heard from me, I've been in bed sick for four days. Well, three. I should have gone home to bed the first day I felt horrible, but I had a whole progressive dinner celebrating Valentine's planned and couldn't bear to give it up.

I mean, of course, if you've wondered why you haven't heard from me in real life. Of course I rarely keep solid tabs on this blog.

While ill, I've had my first substantial talks with my mother since the series of meltdowns recently. Naturally, by substantial I mean "lengthy", as I have not had the mental capacity to try to discuss issues that upset me. And being sick, I was hard pressed to care. You have to believe some change will come of the dicussion in order to put much into it.

She keeps making the most confusing comments, placatory (is that a word? it should be), as if to make up to me. As if, seriously, someone had gotten ahold of her and read her the riot act. Which is possible - my dad's done it before, and not just on my behalf. He wades in to protect my brother and sister-in-law, too.

The sickness has made it worse, too, because she's fussing over me. Or does that make it better? That's the impression I have, without having any hard facts. I suppose it could just be that, having gotten mostly her way, she can afford to jolly me along? That's the cynic's view.

By the way, when I say "gotten her way" I mean that I'm getting response cards from people who were NOT ON the invitation list we put together. If I knew THAT was allowed, there are quite a few of you reading who would have gotten an invitation.

So now my mom, who hates paying more than $12 for a haircut (which is what she paid back in 1988 and why should it get more expensive?) is talking about going to the swanky salon where I'm getting my hair done for some wedding photos. It does seem like a spy tactic. Why on earth doesn't she just ask if she can come with? I mean, right now I sigh a little sigh, because there's nothing quite like my Mom's disapproval to take the joy out of spending money she thinks I'm wasting, but I can at least appreciate that she might want to join in, even find it a lovely gesture.

Or better yet, her opening salley (sally? hmmm) this weekend was something like, "We've cleared our calendars and we're all set to adore you." I didn't even touch this one, I wasn't sure what kind of firecracker that was. She's talking about me going to SC this coming weekend. Firstly, the weekend is a) about my brother's birthday and b) the weekend of the church retreat for my parents, so it is a weekend anything but clear. Secondly, I don't really need adoring. Respecting, as I detailed in an earlier post, but adoring, ehn, no.

Her whole demeanor has me deeply puzzled, and really just a whisker shy of suspicous. I'm not sure what I'm being buttered up for, or more importantly, why on earth this is the brand of buttering up?

In other news, although coughing up a lung while deathly ill turns out to be a fairly consistent way of losing that last pesky five pounds, I really, really can't recommend it. From now on, my advice to others will be in favor of altering the dress and retouching the photos.