I love Stoney's mom.
I have had a lifetime of relationship with men's mothers. Let's see ...
I had my very first "real" boyfriend when I was 15 ... neither of us could drive so our parents took us everywhere. His family was more affluent than mine. Not a lot ... but enough. She didn't care for me. We were Catholic ... they were Presbyterian ... and she desperately wanted her son to go out with someone from their church. She was polite to me, though.
My next boyfriend ... the one of the attic ... I can't even tell you about his mom. Did she exist? She must have. I'm sure there was a woman in the house ... but I'll be damned if I can even remember meeting her.
The first man I lived with ... sigh ... this is a part of my life I wish I could forget. His mother looked at me as the person who took away her biggest problem. When I called her the first time he hit me, she literally told me word for word, "He can't come back here. He's your problem now." She liked me. No, she worshiped me ... but only because I took him off her hands.
Then there was man I dated off and on for a couple years. I loved his mother and she loved me. I loved her dearly. In fact, the hardest part of breaking up with him that last time was losing touch with her. In retrospect, I guess that says a lot about how wonderful that relationship had been, huh?
My close relationship with that woman is what made the next encounter so difficult. My ex-mother-in-law hated me ... with the heat of a thousand suns. I couldn't do anything right. She told my ex-husband to break up with me before she ever met me. Things were always uncomfortable. We would invite them for dinner and she would criticize my cooking ... in front of me. They are an odd bunch, those two ... they both can't help biting the hand that feeds them.
But that's it's own blog post ...
I'm writing about Stoney's mom. I only brought up those examples to show why I was terrified of meeting her. I loved her son ... and I really wanted her to like me. And ... I guess she does?
Stoney invited me to spend Thanksgiving at his house. His parents were coming and I'd get to meet his brother and sister-in-law. I was nervous all over again ... and when he asked if I was going to spend the night over there or at my house ... I chose the latter. Partially because he had a tiny bed and if I stayed neither of us would get a good night's sleep ... but mostly because I desperately didn't want his Mom to think I was a tramp.
Months later ... we've bought a new (huge) bed together ... and we just bought a new headboard and matching nightstands. When Stoney told his mom about our purchase, she said, "So, when's she moving in?"
Aw, I love her. I really do!
Don't misunderstand me ... we're in no hurry to get there. We're taking our time. And while I've never specifically asked him his feelings on the subject, I never took it as a bad thing. Maybe it's because I see the insane way J acts in a relationship ... as if he's running a sprint instead of a marathon. But I've never thought we were going too slow. I think we're going just right.
So no, Mama Stoney ... for now, I'm not moving in. But I do have my own nightstand ... and I will shortly fill it with all sorts of goodies! Well ... mostly Chapstick and potassium for now. But ... I love him ... I love being at his house ... I love new bed. Really ... it is all good ...
Because you came to my rescue,
And I know that this must be heaven,
How could so much love be inside of you?
Stevie Wonder - You Are the Sunshine Of My Life