My mom was from a poor broken family which includes her mom, whatever man was available, herself and her sister. Her mother would blow her welfare checks on cigarettes and coffee, which was caffeinated before the switch to decaf. She would tell my mother rather hurtful things like she was too fat for ballet class and by the time my mother reached menarche (the very first time a girl begins menstruating) her mother stopped giving hugs. As her birth father was the type to swindle women into lovers and marry them, only to do it all over again with another woman, she stopped speaking to him. When she was a teenager, her mother remarried a jerk who'd drink, smoke and leave pornography out in the living room. (My mother's aversion to it was seeded here. My Take on porn? Whatever gets you through the night.) My mother would fall for a guy named Jim, but he was an abusive drunk. They had my older sister, but he didn't want to pay child-support or have any to do with her. That jerk stepfather wasn't so bad because he helped moved my mother and older sister in the middle of the night. He was similar to a samurai or knight: his boorish behavior only overshadowed his chivalrous heart. He'd never let the women in his life be beaten. Then my mom worked at the bank, where through a semi-blind date she met my father. During their first date, the make-out session ran long and the porkchops were burned. But since he dealt with burnt foods, it was a match. A few years later, they married and within the first year of their marriage, I was conceived and about 9 months later, on the 4th of October, they celebrated 3 years together. October 23rd, I had to be yanked out of the womb, untangled from my cord and put under a French-fry-warmer-shaped light. Dad was the first to hold me.

I inherited stubbornness from both sides, pragmatism from mom and impulsivity from dad. I was more a daddy's girl.

I wanted to tell you why I have the mom I have. She's been abused by those willing to try.

She's always had her guard up since then.

What's worse is she never got closure from her mother when Nana died 2 years after I was born. She took her confessions and her apple pie recipe that my father remembers fondly to the grave.

I have seemed to have demonized my mother. This explanation should give you insight on her background, which, sordid and tragic as it may seem, built her character as a Jill of all trades married to a Jack of all trades with a daughter well on her way to becoming a Renaissance woman in her part of the county.

Well, have you considered that my struggle with mom stems from her own problems?

My family was almost broken up last year and I confide in you guys that if it were to happen, I would be supporting my drunken father because mom was going to not only moving out to New Jersey, she'd take my cat Socks, who I hand-raised since we received her 12 years ago. That was where the line in the sand was crossed.

My family is not picture perfect. It is, however, loving and forgiving.

I thought you had your own diary thread for stuff like this?

Somehow my diary thread got pushed downwards.

Well, if you post in it, you can bump it.

It's okay, Panda! I think most people (everyone?) complains about their parents now and then. I never took what you say about your mom as demonizing her, just that sometimes you have disagreements and don't see eye-to-eye on everything. I've definitely been there. I went through a rough patch with my mom too. Though she made my life miserable for awhile, I know she only wanted the best for me even if I didn't approve of her methods. There's always two sides to every story, so it's great that you realize that and appreciate your parents for who they are.

I get the over-sharing too. Not sure if you're like me, but I spend a crapload of time alone and just feel like talking to anyone who will listen. So many times I'll write a response that turns into a book, and 3/4 times I'll cancel reply, thinking that's just TMI and nobody cares.