Mothers & Daughters & Carbs

"You are not listening to what I'm saying!" I'm raising my voice, struggling to be heard, tears pouring down my face walking home from the subway.

"I am, Laura!" my mother insists, "Would you just shut up and let me finish?"

"No because you aren't even on my SIDE! I don't want you to fix it!"

"I'm not trying to fix it!"

"YES, YOU ARE. YOU ARE TRYING TO FIX IT AND I DON'T WANT YOU TO FIX IT."

"I AM NOT! I AM TRYING TO UNDERSTAND!"

I called home as soon as I stepped off the subway, reeling from a really hard day. I had a disappointing audition and then had worked on my show a bit, only to come under some unexpectedly harsh criticism. The good thing is that I get over obstacles and frustrations very quickly. The bad thing is that when they occur, I take them very personally, sometimes feeling enraged and depressed and hysterical over a very small detail.

Alayna went away for the summer and doesn't have any cell service. I have not heard her voice since last Friday and okay, fine, maybe I'm admitting I have a girl crush here, but it's harder than I thought it would be. I left a message for Tom, who was in acting class. And then, I hit the entry on my phone which is titled ICE, for "In Case of Emergency".

"I had a bad day," I announced to my mother, as soon as she said hello. She listened for a bit and then pried me for more information. I started crying immediately, having bottled up the urge for at least 25 minutes so I could appear sane on the subway. It's amazing that she could manage to understand me through the incoherent muttering. She always can.

My relationship with my mother is not perfect. I am a very sensitive, emotional person. I am anal-retentive, type A, organized. My mother is tough, edgy, always late, usually frazzled, relaxing and easy. We clash, as mothers and daughters do, but lately, those times are few and far between. 

When we fight, it is usually because she does not say what I want her to say. (Are you surprised? Someone not doing what I want and me having a fit? CAN YOU IMAGINE?) This is often talked about in regards to the female vs. male scenario: females want sympathy, men want to fix things. This is why I'm not marrying anyone who doesn't have the psychic ability to read my mind. Anyway, I encounter this same exact situation with my mother, time and time again.

When I say, I am having a bad day, I am the suckiest person in the history of suck, I want her to say, "I'm so sorry! I feel so bad for you, no one in the world has it as bad as you. I just want you to know that you are amazing and fantastic and I LOVE YOU!"

Instead, my mother first attempts to fix the issue. "Well, what did he say? What should you do? What are you going to do?" 

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO, YOU ARE STRESSING ME OUT!"

"I'm not meaning to stress you out but let's see what happened and what we can do. Now, what if you did X, Y, Z? What if you did just Y? Do you think you can do X and Z at the same time? Would that work? You should stop doing Y because that isn't working for you..."

And by this point, I am tearing out my hair in a frantic manner.

And then she starts in on what I like to call the "Pull yourself up by the bootstraps!" speech which is, like everything else, well meant but extremely sucktastic and useless when I am sobbing on the other end of the phone.

"Well, this is the tough part of life, Laura! It's the crappy part. But you have to go through it! We all do! And it always ends well! It's always worth it! You have to STOP TAKING THIS SO PERSONALLY. You just LET THINGS GET TO YOU! You really do! You have GOT TO STOP THE EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER!"

And I just let her go on and on because I know what she's trying to say but I don't want to hear it so I just hold the phone with one hand and continue to rip out hair with the other.

After about twenty minutes of I KNOW WHAT TO DO! and SUCK IT UP, WOMAN! variations, she then gets to what I wanted her to get to at the beginning. Right as I am about to hang up on her because she's just NOT LISTENING she DOES NOT UNDERSTAND ME she is the WORST MOTHER EVER, she says,"Oh, I love you, Laura! You are so fantastic and amazing! I'm so sorry you're having a bad night! YOU ARE BRAVE AND STRONG! You are such an inspiration to me and you will get through this and I will be here for you."

And then, how can I be mad at her?!? I mean, technically I could, with good reason, because at this point, I'm bald from the stress of talking to her. But seriously, how can I stay angry? She dumps the love and affection and admiration on me AFTER I want to strangle her to death. AND THIS IS SOME KIND OF SICK MOTHERLY ART, ISN'T IT!?!?!? Make me want to kill you and THEN and ONLY THEN do you say the EXACT THING I'VE BEEN WAITING TO HEAR? Because you and I and my therapist all know that at 25, I AM STILL BEGGING FOR YOUR APPROVAL?

I will tell you this: my mom is an ace at making sure you don't stay angry with her. I remember her pissing me off so much when I was younger that I vowed silently never to speak to her again. I would mope on the couch, totally ignoring her, seething. Then she would perch next to me and start poking me with her finger.

"Lawwwwwda!" she'd say.

"STOP IT, I HATE YOU." I would threaten, while silently thinking Don't smile, Don't laugh, She is not funny, she is NOT FUNNY.

But she is. She's hilarious. And she would poke and then say something witty or put on a funny voice and I would be smiling and laughing and she would hug me and then offer to make me a tuna sandwich. Alls well that ends with food.

So, tonight was a big misunderstanding. I wanted sympathy, she wanted to fix it. And what I understand now, which I didn't always, is that she comes from a good place, the best place: a fierce need to love and protect me. She doesn't want me upset, she doesn't want me unhappy, so she offers up all the ways to undo the pain. And then she tells me, which she is really telling herself, that suffering is a part of life and that I will pull through.

There was a pause in our conversation after we had both calmed down.

"So," she said, "Are you at least eating something containing chocolate?"

"No," I said as I chewed, "Just cereal."

"Cocoa Puffs?"

"Corn flakes."

"Ew."

"Sweetened with fruit juice."

"Ugh."

"With rice milk."

"WHO'S DAUGHTER ARE YOU!??!?!!?" 

And I laughed. I don't have a problem delving into chocolate when things get rough, but I'm on Day #4 of the cleanse described in "Quantum Wellness". No sugar, no gluten, no caffeine, no alcohol, no animal products. This could be the reason I was so hysterical to begin with tonight.

"Seriously," my mother said. "You did not get that crunchy natural healthfood gene from me."

"I know," I said.

We professed our love for each other and hung up the phone. I couldn't help but think that I missed out on a lot of her genes. Physical attributes, personality traits, things of hers that I don't have and maybe kind of secretly wish I did. I mean, I can do without the sugar addict gene. But where is my strength? Where is the womanly power that she so easily exudes? How come I still can't figure out how to fold a fitted sheet? Why don't I have her toes!? Mine suck.

I thought about this as I put the phone down, my head pounding from crying. My mother is a complicated woman but I felt so grateful in that moment, just to have her in my life, just to have her to fight with. In her honor, I walked to the toaster and popped in two vegan gluten-free waffles with flaxseed. When they were done, I spread them with some soy butter. As I watched the cream melt and ooze into the crispy squares of waffle, I smiled, satisfied that I had a piece of her in me after all.