My mother.

I’ve debated doing this post for weeks, as it is deeply personal. But here it is. I’ve gone back and forth on how to approach it without coming off as a bitter little girl, but the truth is, I don’t know how to put all of this into words… but I’m going to try.

I have a less than ideal relationship with my mother. Or lack of relationship entirely. We were never super close. She has never been my go-to person when something exciting happens, or when I need help with something. We just never had THAT type of relationship. But all that aside, this post is about the last 3 years specifically.

December 2008: My parents were over the moon to find out they were getting their first grandchild. So much so, that within minutes of my husband and I dropping the news on them, they were on their cell phones calling the rest of the family. They were very supportive throughout my pregnancy and showered their unborn grandson with gifts.

August 2009: Cameron was born and my parents were thrilled. I was so excited to see them as grandparents and embraced the new closeness I felt with them. Unfortunately, it was short lived.

When Cameron’s “new-ness” wore off, they were less and less inclined to come around. Despite their slight absence, I felt comfortable leaving Cameron in my mother’s care and asked her to babysit one night while Jay and I went on a date (due to some physical challenges, my father was not someone who could care for a newborn, so from this point on, this post will focus on the deterioration of my relationship with my mother). From the moment she walked in the door, it was like she was ready to leave.

“Hurry back.” “Don’t be out too long.”

Sure, these sort of comments are harmless, but I was a little taken aback that she wasn’t at all excited for some one-on-one time with her only grandchild. But I just wrote it off as her being nervous to care for a baby after so many years. This is where it all started.

From about the time my son was 3 months old she RARELY called or came by the house. I invited her over, occasionally asked if she would be available to watch him, and things of the sort. She always had some sort of an excuse. She had plans. She was planning on stopping at her office. She would be out of town. And my all-time favorite (when called on a Tuesday to see if she would be available on Saturday), “Can you call me back the morning of? I’m not sure what I’ll have going on. I might be busy.”

That was the first real dig. I’m sure it wasn’t meant to be, but that’s how it came off. At this point, you don’t have plans, and I’m asking you if you want to see your grandson. You can’t commit? Why? Because something “better” to do might come along? That conversation occurred in late 2011. I haven't asked her for help, whether it be with my kids or in regards to anything, since.

She hadn’t seen him in weeks and I was hurt that she didn’t appear to be bothered by that. This back and forth “What are you doing this weekend?” “I have plans.” game continued for months. After some explosive conversations, I stopped calling her all together. I was tired of forcing (at least that’s how it felt) a relationship with my children (by now Eva was here) on her. There was a clear difference in how I defined being a grandparent and how she defined being a grandparent.

I know it’s not her job to care for my children, and that wasn’t what I was asking of her. I simply wanted her to be a part of their lives. I wanted them to have a relationship with her. We live in the same town for crying out loud. It is less than two miles from her front door to mine. Despite my best efforts, there was still little to no interaction between her and my kids.

Life went on, and the distance between her and I, and her and my children, only grew.

I am haunted by a run-in we had with her at a local grocery store. She saw us, came over to say hi, and my children had no idea who she was. They both clammed up and couldn’t even make eye contact with her. She may as well have been a complete stranger. This only fueled my anger towards her.

I was sad, hurt, and angry. Why didn’t she want to be a part of their lives? Why didn’t she want to spend time with them? Did she in no way feel any love towards my kids? Did we do something wrong? Are they not good enough to deserve a couple hours of her time?

I’ve cried, screamed, and practically begged her to be proactive, but I’ve gotten nowhere. She even went as far as telling me once that she raised her kids and didn’t owe me anything. I agree, she doesn’t owe me anything. But that doesn’t make up for putting no effort into building a relationship with her grand kids. She even went as far as saying once that she didn't spend time with them because she didn't want to change diapers. Seriously? I couldn’t, and still can’t, believe her logic.

I was broken and determined to never let me children feel any sort of void in their lives because one set of grandparents was completely absent. I gave up trying. I told my parents they were always welcome to see them, but I gave up. I stopped inviting them over. I stopped asking them to babysit. I was done. I felt like I had done more then my part, and it was her turn to put in some effort. I put the ball in her court, and walked away.

We saw my parents for Christmas this past December. I come from a big family, and our family Christmas party seems to bring people out in the masses. Cameron and Eva didn't even notice my parents. Not once did either of them talk to their grandparents. They have NO IDEA who they are. And it breaks my heart. Prior to Christmas, I can't even recall when my Mom had last seen my kids. I know my Dad saw them briefly on Halloween, but my Mom wasn't home when we stopped by for trick or treating.

And here we are. March 12th, and my parents haven't seen my children since Christmas. I've only had ONE conversation with my Mom since then too.

I know there are plenty of little kids who don't see their grandparents frequently, but like I said, we live less then two miles away. There's no excuse.

All of the emotions that surround this situation are only multiplied by how amazing a relationship my babies have with my husband's parents. I truly have the best in-laws.

My in-laws know about what's been going on with my parents, and they have done everything they can to be mine and Jay's biggest supporters. If we need help, they're there for us. My in-laws would move heaven and earth for my kids, no questions asked.

The second we pull in the driveway, car seats cannot contain Cam and Eva. As soon as they're out of the car, they're running for the door. JP LOVES his Grandpa. He could hang out with Grandpa all day. They love my husband's parents and know that they're loved in return.

At the end of the day, I know my children don't feel a void in their lives.

I'm still upset with my parents, but to be totally honest, I've come to a point of acceptance with all of this. My parents are not here. They are not involved in the lives of my children. They're not involved with my family at all. I can't make them do anything, and that's been made very clear. I have a support system, and as much as I want them in my life, I don't need them. Maybe that's a bit harsh to say, but I had to stop wishing and hoping things would change. I can sleep easy knowing I did everything I could.

I'm over it.