Living with my mother the teenage years - (hers not mine)

In the interests of full disclosure and so that my mother doesn't attempt to sue me al la Baby Reindeer style - the facts and events based in this blog post might be true and might be fictional - in that I will happily ridicule my mother for fun.. but I will edit the bits that I know that NO one else ever needs to hear... (trust me this a public service and you are welcome)

It all started just 4 days ago, I was living my best life work wise in terms of low stress, incoming date night with my hubby and you know just general peaceful life vibes for the first time in forever (ooooh there is a Disney song there....) and then my mother decides to go swimming.... this is in part my husbands fault - everything I dislike in this house is always his fault whether it actually is or not... he signed up the small person for swimming lessons - and as my chief care giver mum takes her for said swimming lessons hence inspiring her to in fact go swimming herself....

Anyhow, I'm quietly working from home (its what I do now and I haven't left the house in over a month) when my mother comes barreling in from swimming, face split like a Cheshire cat and a whole bundle of nervous energy that we only see when its time to see the dentist - as a professional daughter and social worker I decide the best course of action is to carry on about my day to day work and ignore her.... which would have been fine except that the level of banging around in the kitchen was a clear sign for attention...

Apparently one should check in on the older generation to appease them and so that your living conditions at home remain stable (you know so the dishwasher gets loaded and the washing gets done) so I admittedly opened the conversation with what I deemed to be a safe topic "how was swimming?" Note to self  I will never ask this question again... She giggles (she never giggles) and says very casually as if testing the waters she just swam in - oh I met a man and I'm going on a date.....

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD.... I am not prepared for this information or the questions one should ask their mother in response to this answer - it's okay we got through it - although she doesn't know his name, where he lives or where said date is going to occur other than 6pm the same day - which in some weird twist of fate is my own fault because despite myself and hubby literally never going out we have been planning a date night for the following day which means she has to babysit so therefore must go out IMMEDIATELY

Now I will confess as a teenager I wasn't into dating (because no one asked) and because according to the to local lads I had thunder thighs (oh god I would pay money to have those thighs right now) so me and mum never went through the teenage angst of dating and dating etiquette because I was quite happy with a book, more magazine and eating my body weight in potato salad, so I am not going to lie it was quite the experience to be dragged upstairs to my mothers bedroom, witness her throw all of her clothes around her bedroom and listen to her tell me she has nothing to wear, no shoes and that regardless of the fact I am working that we MUST go shopping right this instant.  

Now despite what she may portray I do try to be supportive (despite writing this account) so I agree to take her shopping - I will not bore you with the experience - the main factors you need to know is we went to every shop in town (and admittedly there are not many)  she rejected every single thing she tried on and we walked away with a pair of tights, some sunglasses and a pair of shoes she wasn't entirely sure about... typical date night outfit sorted.... boy from the swimming pool (this is how she has named him in her phone) calls on the drive back - before the agreed time of 6pm and she has a meltdown about the fact she cannot answer the phone in the car even though I was the one driving not her....

We get home she disappears like a teenager to call him back in privacy and I spend the time messaging everyone I know that my mum has an actual date.... when she returns she wants to know if I have her phone on tracking (yes I do because you know she might get lost on the 5 minute school run) and what should she do in an emergency - I spend the rest of the afternoon explaining ask Angela to her which results in lots of variations of ask Angelo, ask Karen, ask anyone.... which given she still doesn't know his name, or what he drives or where they are going isn't really going to help anyway... 

We discuss kissing - don't worry I will save you the torture of that entire conversation but lets just agree that as much as I declare myself to be open minded this is a topic I have no desire to revisit ever again...

(yes my house is this messy I don't care) Finally date ready off she trots - now despite telling me she was going to take a photo of his number plate and text me - she doesn't and I suspect at this point she has forgotten anything we discussed about Angela...

Me, my sister and my son spend the next hour tracking her phone - no I am not prepared to discuss comfy springs...

So after an hour I lose my cool and message her.... you can see the mood we have reached ... WHO IS SHE? WHERE DID MY MOTHER GO?

So after many hours of stalking (baby reindeer) and muttering to husband about her being near canals and falling in rivers and making up all the scenarios that my mum should have been making about me when I was a teenager she pitches up at 1am in the morning - I'll let you decide from the photo which one of us had a drink...

There is a debrief - I cannot provide you with it because there was another discussion that I was not ready for about kissing and a ridiculous amount of giggling that I was not prepared for - interestingly Dann decided to disengage from the whole process (if only I had been that wise) 

The next morning, (day 2) the washing isn't done, the dishwasher isn't loaded and there is no sign of my mum, when she finally does the walk of shame, head hanging mumbling like a teenager somewhere around midday - when I finally get some sense out of her apparently she's been up all night thinking about her date and eating toast hence why she is up late - not because she has a hangover or some weird date post nerves...

We get through the rest of the day without any overly weird conversations and hubby and I go dating - you know like we planned before my mothers teenage regression....

Day 3 arrives and the gems keep dropping apparently we have moved to a second date for Monday which involves coffee and planning date 3 which is now a weekend away - yes this came with more throwing clothes around the bedroom, sulking and asking permission to go away in the first place - I had a real who is the mummy here moment and then agreed she could do what the hell she liked so long as I am not subjected to weekend away shopping - it was at this point and trust me all day there were secret phone calls in her bedroom, not paying attention to conversations because she had her face in her phone that I realized our roles had truly reversed. There was truly difficult conversation about swimming pool boy's commentary on my mothers kissing ability that I will carry with me to the grave of things I never want to be subjected to again...

Day 4 (today) off she pops to her coffee date - I stalk her to make sure she is where she says she is .... WHO AM I?? she returns full of oh I don't know where we are going but is it okay if we go away for two days, more giggling and more face in the phone - this time I don't make the mistake of asking how it went but I do establish that we might finally know his name - which also ensues in fits of giggles... she also says something particularly rude during dinner in which I am forced to ask her if she kisses her boyfriend with that mouth that has her howling for 15 minutes while I ponder my entire existence

And then I walk in on this...

Yes that is my mother just chilling on the sofa waiting for a text from her boyfriend.... Hubby tells her that if she cannot behave he is going to revoke her internet privileges in which she resorts to her best Kevin and Perry impression of "its not fair" and grunting at us a lot. 

I have no idea how this is going to pan out but if nothing else I have new insight into what regression is and a whole new knowledge of "adult" dating and that life begins at 60 something even if you didn't actually tell swimming pool boy your real name or your actual age....