Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Mother Dearest

In the Gospel of Matthew, people are called Salt of the Earth--Light of the World. Beautiful beings with the glow of an inner light emanating the beauty of God's love.

But sprinkle salt on a snail and the same celestial angel dust becomes -- Poison.

My mother has the latter effect on me. She can make me so mad that I start to foam at the mouth.

My sister says that I exhibit signs of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) -- a very slight and minor case, but nonetheless, I believe the basic message is that I suffer some sort of psychological ailment. Apparently OCD stems from anxiety and is a response to feelings of helplessness and loss of control. So, those who are obsessive compulsive channel this anxiety and try to exert control over other areas in life. So, Yes. I do scrub the bathroom tiles in columns of three and carefully measure out Clorox and water in an exact ratio of 1:20 to create a lethally effective disinfectant solution.

I have been giving this diagnosis some thought and I strongly believe that my mother is to blame. I have been constipated since 1996 and that too is most likely her fault.

Susie...I know you're shaking your head right now and saying that I am, once again, being melodramatic. But seriously, don't be another victim. She can be very deceiving. Beneath that veneer of gentility and poise is a raging Korean woman with a river of fire running through her veins. Allusions. Deceptions. Mirages.

You know, my mother insists that David married me on account of her. Apparently, I have her to thank for being blessed with such a wonderful and handsome man. And of course, it's because of her that I have such a beautiful child because I would have never married such a beautiful man without her divine powers of prayer. Apparently, I bring nothing to the gene pool when it comes to Noah's good looks.

She is the Korean version of Rochester's mad woman in the attic. Only, the English seem to lock up their crazy women while the Korean household is run by them. Am I implicating myself of this legacy of lunacy being that I too am Korean? No, because if you recall in an earlier blog, I married a Banana. By default, David's preference for steak over kimchi chi gae qualify us as an American household.

I waited until I was 24 years old to return to college and get my undergrad. My doing.
I finally went back. Her doing.
I finished school in 18 months and graduated with honors. Again, her doing.
I returned home and got a job a Google. Yep -- that's right, all her doing.
I got married to Dave. Her doing.
I had a beautiful baby. Her doing.
Wheat and rice crops fail due to fungal infestation. My doing.

I fear Noah has poor taste in women as he has taken a strong liking to Grandma. Sometimes, in the morning while I drive him over to my mom's I tell him he may bite grandma's toe when she is not looking. He has made a poor agent to date and has yet to fulfill his mission. It will be some time before he reaches 007 status. If I don't see any progress soon I may have to decommission him and assign him to a desk job.

So, what do you do when your greatest adversary is your own flesh and blood and your precious baby's nanny?

Nothing. Scrub harder. Pick and choose your battles. Some foes are too great to overthrow. And, anyway, my sister and dad would never agree to a coup d'état. They attribute my mother's poor behavior to a minor personality flaw. Her egregious offenses are mere infractions to them.

But that is the debilitating power of oppression. My dad has been living with my mother for so long he no longer remembers the sweet taste of freedom, liberty or the pursuit of happiness. And my sister, she's running away to Southern California in a couple weeks under the facade of pursuing her PhD.

Hmmm...

Okay...so, yes. Ultimately, I do love my mother.

And, Yes, my mother is a tremendous help to me. But also at a tremendous cost to my mental sanity. It's what they call a symbiotic relationship in the animal world. Our's is a combination of mutualistic and parasitic interactions.

Sometimes, I just want to drive to Yellow Stone National Park and leave her there. I often threaten her of this fate if she continues to behave as she does. But nothing fazes this woman. She looks me over with disdain and prances away with Noah in her arms because she knows...

"The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world". ~ William Ross Wallace

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