My mother still doesn't want to accept the fact that I've grown up and am now an independent person.
To be honest, I always felt like my mother just didn't believe in me. In her eyes, I was always a bit of a failure.
At one point in my life, I almost believed it, but I was lucky to have the right people in my life. I recently got married, moved out of my parents' house, and my husband and I even have a dog. Even though it's a small pinscher, it's a responsible thing for me to do.
I've never been responsible for someone's life before because my mother wouldn't let me have pets. In her opinion, any animal I got my hands on should die almost immediately. After I moved out, my mother got into the habit of visiting me.
She usually does this when my husband is at work. He has a flexible schedule, so his weekends rarely overlap with mine. My mother comes over in the evening and starts acting like she's home. She demands that I almost wait on her. If it weren't for my mother, I would never have experienced this kind of attitude.
She can simply lie down on our sofa or in the kitchen at the dining table with her legs raised on the chair opposite. It seems like a small thing, but I think a person should never forget that they are a guest, so they should behave accordingly.
My mother also often looks through my things. She can simply walk up to any door and open it, saying, “What do we have here?,” walk in and start looking through my things. When I recently caught her opening the kitchen cabinets and asked what she was doing there, she simply turned around and said that she was just looking at how we arranged things.
For almost a year I endured my mother's audits and I couldn't object to anything. But finally I came to the conclusion that I had to change this situation. Two days ago, my mother came to visit me as usual. Our meetings usually last about two hours. During this time, my mother manages to explain to me that I don't do everything the way she thinks it should be done.
While I was in the bathroom, our dog managed to make a puddle in the hallway. He is only six months old. The dog was immediately hurled insults and curses. The dog whined and fell silent. I ran out of the bathroom, pulling my pants up over my butt. My mother was sticking my dog's nose in the puddle on the floor and cursing. “That's my dog!” I shouted to my mother. “You come here like a teenager and start making your own rules.” Long story short, I snapped at my mother because of the dog.
I realize that it wasn't really because of the dog, but because everything had built up over the year. I got tired of listening to this sermonizing, I started yelling at my mother and grabbed the puppy out of her hands, which was disoriented. My mother shouted at me that the dog had to be trained or it would get on our heads and tried to take the dog away.
Mentos had enough, turned around and bit me. My mother screamed like a wounded seagull, quickly got up and ran home. Now she's texting me and telling me to apologize for yelling at my mother! And for the dog too. It seems easy to apologize, but I understand that my mother has not learned anything from this situation and if I apologize to her, she will not change her behavior. So I wonder how to get out of this situation.
Take a look: Drink the coffee and add the leftovers to the pot with the clod. This will make the plant shower with flowers