u/papapazuzu

A B2B SaaS company I have had my eye on for years wants to interview me for a role that is perfect. Truly perfect. My background matches it to a tee. Nothing is a sure thing, obviously, but I’d be a real contender for this role.

But I am pregnant. Due in November. I’m going to have to ask them to either delay my start until February or provide immediate maternal leave.

I know this is just unlucky timing, and so I’m not looking for bad experiences here.

Please, if you or someone you know has travelled these murky maternity leave waters while getting a new position and succeeded, share your story.

Every surgery, which have all been minor and my mother’s choice, my mother forced me to read her “last words”. My mom has a thing with being “sick” until doctors give her surgery for various ailments, so this probably happened six or seven times. By the time I was ten, I finally faked reading them because they were kind of awful (maybe even traumatic). Lots of grandstanding as a great, martyr mother when that wasn’t the reality at all. Not mine, anyway.

She frequently bragged to her friends that whatever most recent letter made me cry, and i have a clear memory of internally scoffing and thinking “lol okay” as I had not cried.

Anyone else? Why do they do that?

Daytime is for naps
Nighttime is for warm sleep
Whiskers gently sway

I want to buy some Kaufman Stadium seats when they tear down the current stadium. Where would I go to do that? Are they just going to set them out by dumpsters? When I Google it, the search results are largely for buying tickets. Any guidance is appreciated.

Like at all.

And I’m an only child.

She’s older, but she doesn’t have any memory issues. She just wasn’t there. When I turned about ten, she decided he didn’t like me (she told me that explicitly) and stopped engaging with me. And therefore doesn’t remember anything about who I am from that point onward.

It’s surreal. She’ll tell me things that she believes wholeheartedly are true about myself. That I had “moved out when this big neighborhood scandal happened” and that I “tried out for this role in marching band and didn’t make it.”

None of it’s right. She paid so little attention to me from age 10 to 18 that she forgot me. It’d be funny if it weren’t true. This has been happening for years. She. Doesn’t. Remember. Me.

I was a nice preteen and teen, too. Volunteered. Had friends. Part time jobs. Great grades. Gifted, for whatever that’s worth. I wasn’t hard to parent or be around.

Fuck her, dude. Fuck her.

Context: waif/witch mom w/ uBPD

Every single aspect of her life, or at least the life she pretends is true, is a lie. She tells me about conversations we never had. Experiences that didn’t happen. Heck, food we didn’t eat. She even makes up historical “facts” and clings to them like they’re real. Like there isn’t a fact-checking machine in my pocket!

It drives me insane. Correcting her, of course, does not help. But I am so angry - and poorly represented in her narratives - that I almost can’t stop myself. I just let her rage bait me with this nonsense. How do I stop?

Here kitty kitty kitty
Come inside where you are safe
And I’ll hold you tight