My Mother and Facebook

My friends had warned me and I did not listen.

It all started back when my mother joined the digital revolution and went online. It wasn't long before she created a Facebook account and then... yes, sent me a friend invite.
I put off responding and took this dilemma to my friends.  Their response was a resounding 'NO!'. I think they all added a variation to the effect of 'are you insane? why would you even need to ask if this is ok? Of course it isn't!' Apparently, you do not add your mother to your Facebook account, I understand this now, but couldn't help but feel really guilty! After all, this was the woman that carried me for nine months, gave birth to me, fed me, changed me and loved me.... how can I not accept a friend request from my mother??? What kind of an ungrateful son would I be?  So, I ignored the good advice of my friends and accepted my mother's 'friend request' and then things became awkward.
At first it was 'kind of' ok. When no one responded to one of my posts, my mum would support me by posting encouraging comments like 'I like everything that matthew does'.. yep, it's  just like the encouragement ribbons I used to get at Little Athletics  (cause I was shit at Little Athletics), except this time it is a public post on Facebook by my mother. Anyway, things were reasonably ok, until the phone call. Which went a little like this:

Mum-' Hi, X is sending you a Facebook invite, so just make sure you accept that when it comes through'

Me- 'What??!!, Who is this person??'

Mum- 'you know my friend X...'

Me (becoming a tad hysterical at this point and reverting to a 12 year old)-'MUM! I am NOT accepting friend requests from YOUR friends, OH MY GOD!! My friends told me NOT to accept your friend request and now look what is happening!!!!' 

Mum, a little hurt and puzzled- 'Why would your friends tell you not to be my friend on Facebook??'

Me (hearing the hurt in my mothers voice and now rightfully feeling like complete crap!)- 'Cause you're my mum and it is not cool!!  But I told them I couldn't turn down my mothers friend request...'

Mum (now with some pride in her voice) - 'come on love, just for me, for your mum!'

Me- 'mum, how did they even find me on Facebook (I have my fathers surname and mum has her maiden name'

Mum- 'well.. X doesn't have many friends so I suggested that they add you... go on , for me, for your mum. I did tell them that you would accept the request.'

Me (feeling that I have no choice in the matter, and making sure my mother knows that I am not happy! and no, I didn't stomp about this time) - 'Ok, that  is it!!! no more mum, no MORE!!!!  I will accept their friend request, but I don't want anymore of your friends sending me friend requests, ok??!!

Mum- 'Oh, X is not my friend, X is my neighbour.

I just groan at this point.

The next evening, I call mum and advise that I had accepted her neighbour's friend request... mum responded with, 'oh, I just deleted the request they sent me'.
I flip out 'ARE YOU SERIOUS???????". Mum laughs and says 'I deleted it accidentally, I asked X to resend the request'. I think I ended the call very quickly with, 'Ok mum I have to go, I can't talk to you anymore.' All the while I was asking myself, why I didn't listen to my friends in the first place and not accept my mum's Facebook friend request.


I think my mum secretly delights in driving me crazy, in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she is writing a blog called 'Things I do to drive my son crazy'.


Many thanks to V.G. for editing!

The magical power that parents have to make you feel twelve years old again.... and not in a good way.

How is it that no matter what age you are, your parents still seem to have some magical ability to regress us to age twelve?  I don't at all mean this in lovely way, you know, a way in which we are transported back to a time and state of being of innocence, where we had no worries about work, mortgages, children, the environment and life as we know it as todays responsible adult. I'm talking about being regressed back to all the crap stuff about being twelve- ie. your parents spoiling your fun and making you do things that you don't want to!

Recently I had a very adult event in my life. The opening of an art exhibition which I was part of and which my mother attended. All was well, until my mother wanted me to do something for her and I was too busy attending to my guests to fulfill mothers wants. Mum kept asking me about a friend of mine I had known for ages. Mum wanted to be reintroduced to her and kept asking me where friend 'X' was. Mind you, I was busy being a host and spruiking my art which was on sale. I did respond to mum's requests with 'she is over there mum'.. to which mum would ask me to retrieve X to present to her. I know what your question is and the answer is: Yes, my mother is the Queen of England. Anyway my mother, whom everyone comments of with phrases such as  'Oh, your mum is lovely' or, 'Oh, your mum is so nice'... etc. Yes well, wait till you really know her, because if you don't give her what she wants, she will turn into the lord of HELL at any moment! as evidenced by what happened next at the exhibition.... As I was busy working the room, I walked past where the queen of England was seated (yes, my mother) and BAM! My mother just about rips my arm off as she grabs me:

Mum- In a steely tone, 'Have you brought your friend X over to me yet? I want to see what they are like after these years that have passed..'

Me, in the middle of working the room at MY event (and wondering why people ask rhetorical questions.. I mean, seriously, If I had brought X over to you, would you have to ask me If I had??)
'No mum, she is just over there' I say as I also point out where X is standing and in fairly close proximity'

Mum- 'go and get her', with her steely tone getting steelier by the syllable.

Me- exasperatedly 'Mum, I'm in the middle of stuff! I'm busy, she's over there' (ie. Queeny, get up and walk over there....)

At this point my mother, whom everyone falsely believes is LOVELY and is always saying ' oh your mum is  so sweet etc..... well, she gave me one of those looks, that dark alley stare that says  'do it now boy or I will cut you!' Then, between clenched teeth  she demands "Bring her to me NOW!'.  At which point, I regress into a twelve year old who has been told to stop playing with his friends and go and do some painful chore. My shoulders hunch up, are then released with a huge shrug and sigh as I turn and STOMP off to collect my friend X.  I find X, grab her arm and state sulkily 'Mum wants to meet you', then I STOMP back over to the queen who is smiling broadly, with X in tow....

Yep.... Parents.... no matter how old you are, they are always your parents and can always make you feel like a child, and not in a good way either.

p.s. I do love the Queen, err I mean my mum!

Inherited craziness

 I am generally saying and thinking the craziest things.... and I think I now know where I get this from...my mum.




This is how the end of a recent phone call with my mum went;


me: 'ok mum, I need to go, I might walk down the street and get some fish and chips for dinner'


Mum: 'Oh!!! Be careful!!!!'


me: 'Mum! It's in my street, I am just literally walking down my street'.


Mum: "It was on the news that someone was almost kidnapped in Pakenham!"
(which according to google search is 72.9 km's away from me),


me: 'Mum, I am just going down the street, I'll be ok'


Mum: I'm just saying be careful, you don't know who is out there!!'

I was going to respond with how I have stacked on the weight and they would need five men from Pakenham to lift me into the back of the van, but I just couldn't continue talking about potentially being kidnapped in my own street.



Now, some people might find this kind of sweet..... but the thing is Mum will likely call me later to make sure I wasn't kidnapped on my way to the fish and chip shop! And If I don't answer the phone she will panic. Now, if I was being kidnapped on my way back home, with fish and chips in hand and mum was around to see this, you can bet your bottom dollar that mum would be telling them off  and probably saying 'At least let him eat his dinner!!!'




What effect has this had on me? I am often thinking crazy things and taking them to insane conclusions, let me share:

Recently a mate was telling me how it was too hot for him to sleep in his house and I suggested, as he lived in the country, he pitch a tent in his backyard and sleep under the stars. He loved the idea and then my mind starts to wander, well if I had a son, how excited would he be if he slept under the stars in the backyard on a hot night!  I saw his big smile and joy beaming from him as he grabbed his torch, teddy bear and child size sleeping bag. Then, I did start to panic a little about mosquitoes and bugs, but calmed down reminding myself about mosquito netting in tents, so my son, wouldn't have to spray carcinogenic bug repellent all over himself...Then as I settle into this calm and lovely thought of my son, happy to be camping in the safety of our backyard, mosquito nets up, him behind that sitting on his child size sleeping bag with torch and teddy bear in hand...all is lovely until I am snapped out of it by 'OMG! what if while my son is sleeping in the backyard on a hot night, some crazy person jumps over our backyard fence and steals him ….. or worse!!!!' I start to hyperventilate, I am really freaking out. After what is surely only a few minutes but seems so much longer,  I somehow manage to calm down as I start to realise that I could stand guard and sleep in the backyard with my son... and then all is well.... well, until I think about how I am a heavy sleeper and my son could be stolen away from right next to me while I am snoring loudly, my loud snores  probably being how the child kidnapper zeroed in, in order to steal my son!!!!!'. It was all because of me!!!!! It was settled then, that NO MATTER WHAT, my son was to sleep indoors with window locks, deadlocks, alarm system and security cameras! ah, I was finally able to heave a huge sigh of relief.


The craziest thing of all is that I have no children.
I am blaming my state of craziness on my mother.
I love you mum.