Birthdays

My mother has a habit of ruining special days. This is abundantly clear when you look at my birthdays.

On my 14th birthday she and my father got into a fight. Over what, I have no idea. All I can remember is her pulling out a 8 inch kitchen knife at him right by the doorway of their bedroom.

On my 18th birthday she pitched a fit because she wasn't sent a formal invitation like my friends were. This was a party I paid for and organized. She, my father, and my grandmother, were clearly invited, but I just didn't hand them formal invitations. She screamed at me, made my father feel like he couldn't go, and made my grandmother feel so uncomfortable that she drove all the way from the valley to the westside and stayed about 5 minutes. But it didn't stop there. My mother then called me at the restaurant, DURING the party, to yell at me and berate me more. My friend Jen's mother felt so bad for me that she threw me a small after-party at their house.

I think this was my 25th or 26th birthday. I found out about an event called "Yappy Hour." it was a fundriaser for the Amanda Foundation which benefits animals. It was a happy hour with food for animals, dog pet-i-cures (pedicures), dog massage, and of course, a dog fashion show hosted by a pre-sex tape Paris Hilton. This was not my idea of fun. This was not how I wanted to spend my birthday. But, my mom wanted to go, she said she'd pay for me and a friend to go (I think it was $35 apiece) and it was for charity. Since my mom NEVER leaves the house, I acquiesced. Well, first of all, my mother ends up acting totally weird because her friend's dog had died that day. I think she was pissed that I wasn't more upset about it, even though I barely knew the person and never met her dog. And my mom of course, "forgets" her checkbook, and so I have to pay for my friend and I. I still, have not been paid back. Then she acts weird the whole time and makes my birthday into a big pile of poo.

My 30th birthday was awesome. All my friends did nice things for me, got me special, meaningful gifts. My dad planned a whole huge thing for me and got me an amazing, personal, special gift. My mother did not ask me what I wanted, did not ask me what I wanted to do, nor did she plan anything. She came to dinner with my friend and my grandmother and I. She sat down and began reading the menu, then remarked, "Wow! This place is expensive." dampening the mood and making everyone at the table feel uncomfortable. Then, my grandmother reached into her purse and withdrew a card from her neighbors, family friends. My mother says, "Oh, I forgot." and snatches the card from my grandmother, takes out her wallet, writes a check for $400 and jams it into the gift from my grandmother's friends. They had picked out a $100 gift card to my favorite store and written me a lovely card. Card from my mom? Nope, not so much.