"Infertile, Bitter & Proud" (Tuesday)

So, what were we talking about? Oh right. Those of us with PTMD (Post-Traumatic Mother's Day) Syndrome. We're dedicateing this week to bolstering our own senses of self-worth by tearing others who reproduce easily to shreds.

Not everyone who can conceive easily will be fodder for our wrath and amusement...just a select few.

There are a few despicable types of women who get pregnant easily, who aggravate just about everybody...not just the infertile.

From people who do terrible things to their kids down to (for me anyway) people who talk on a cell phone while walking in a crowded parking lot with their two year old, attached to nobody, toddling along somewhere behind them.

But then there are less obvious cases of people who might not make the best parents. People who may not do obvious damage to the child...They might just raise them to be a neurotic mess.   

The Mother Teresa's Among Us

I used to work with one of those. In fact, every place I've ever worked, there's been one of those. Mother Teresa's think the whole world needs their help. (And guess who the neediest person really is?)

So, they give and give and give and give and help and help and help and at first you say:

"Thank you. That's so sweet of you!"         

That's your biggest mistake. Now you've encouraged the control freak. She is addicted to the approval. She'll keep coming back for more.

Now that she's had a taste of the power to please, she gives and gives and helps and helps five times as much.

At first she just helps make your work day easier by doing tasks for you...filing, copying, cleaning your desk, watering your plant.

Then the tasks roam towards a little unsettling, but still helpful: Cleaning out your lunch bag, washing your fork, walking your dog.

The next thing you know, she barges her way into helping you put together your sister's wedding even though nobody asked her to and  helps with the party favors even though nobody asked her to. 

These things always end badly. You can never be grateful enough. You can't thank her enough. You can't tell her how wonderful she is enough. You can't send enough emails around the office to tell everyone else what a saint she is.

Next thing you know, she's pissed because your sister didn't make her a bride's maid even though your sister never met her. And the whole ugly, low self-esteem-fueled engine manic episode always ends with:

"And she wouldn't even put me in her sister's wedding party:

'After all I've done for her?!!'"

So obviously this would be an ideal woman to birth a child.  For the first forty years and then some of the child's life she'd hear:

"And from the moment I found out I was pregnant, I listened only to soothing music, and I put the ear phones on my stomach, and ate only organic foods, and never drank caffeine, and spoke only in German and Japanese so she would be fluent, and didn't swear, and wore only warm, soothing earth tones, and grew my own garden so the baby would only be getting local home-grown vegetables, and recycled everything--even jars that are impossible to clean out, and went to church three times a week, and only drank purified water, and only associated with educated people (A Masters or more).... and now she's getting divorced?!

"After All I've Done For Her?!!"

Listen, I gotta go. I need water. That whole last rant dehydrated me.

I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.