It's not as though I don't have any words to say to or about my mother. I have many, many, many things to say. But, they are not very nice things. They are things that when other people say them, you kind of recoil inside, but nod along like they didn't just completely blow your mind.
This is what I can say: We have come to a mutual understanding that Colorado is not a good place for her to live. Not just my city but the whole damn state. We also agree that she does not like my parenting style, my personality or my cat. Or Jeopardy. I decline to acquiesce that she can treat my children like second-class citizens, point out their flaws to them, her friends, distant cousins and complete strangers, or completely ignore them when they nearly kill themselves right in front of her. So, you see. We are not arguing. We are just politely disagreeing and pretending everything is hunky-dory just as we always have.
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