C R A S H.

Early this morning I heard the sound of wood cracking and splitting and then the crash of branches and leaves hitting the ground. It didn't sound horribly loud or like it hit anything important, so I rolled over and fell back to sleep.

My husband is outside now with a chainsaw, cutting up a HUGE branch which fell from our tree onto our neighbor's chain link fence. Earlier he went next door to see if they were home (Sue and Sue are the neighbors), and they weren't. He's cleaning up the mess and plans to fix the fence, as well. Fortunately it's his day off.

My mom finally texted me. She's turned into a wuss in her old age - she only lasted a week before breaking the silence.

Since my house is already clean from having a recent house guest, I invited her and my stepdad to visit before I start my new job. They'll be arriving Sunday. I'm taking my mom and daughter to the Mall of America and maybe, just maybe, she'll buy her grandkid some back-to-school things. You know, to make up for being such an ASS.

Tiny triumphs.

I definitely overreacted about the unexpected overnight guest, I know now. Papa didn't care that the house was cluttered and messy and he only stayed one night.

It's easy to entertain an eighty-two-year-old man. I just showed him my vegetable garden and then all of us spent most of the time on the deck, sitting and chatting. He was content to watch my husband play fetch with the dog or me seed jalapeños, stuff them with cream cheese and wrap them in bacon. We didn't have to take him anywhere and he fell asleep in an upright position on the sofa. A lot.

Friday I quit my job at The Questionable Company. Though I didn't give them two-weeks notice (because I need these two weeks off to get some things done), they were very nice about it and even asked that I come back if my new job doesn't work out. Best not to burn any bridges.

I also discovered that any nutritional supplements, including vitamins in the grocery store, are not FDA approved and contain the same disclaimer that The Questionable Company puts on all its products and ads. So it isn't right for me to judge their product based on the disclaimer. I still dislike the whole multi-level marketing method of distributing that they utilize, but my coworkers were nice and it was a pleasant environment, despite the possible fire code violations of the offices.

I've exchanged a few brief emails with The Spider about the critique group she's setting up and my new job. The silence is officially broken but I don't anticipate anything warmer or friendlier, which is fine with me. I'm happy now, with minimal contact.

Still haven't heard from my mom. It's been a week and one day. I try not to think about it because it irks me so. I feel she's behaving childishly and I wonder if there's only more to come of this from her?

And finally, I've written. My dry spell has come to an end. This morning I added two new pages to a novel-in-progress. It's nothing extraordinary, but it's something to work with, to build on. It's the first thing I've written since April.

The Spider Speaks. Kind of.

It just occurred to me that exactly two people have been simultaneously giving me the silent treatment. The Spider, who hasn't spoken to or emailed me since May 1, and my mother, who has ignored my emails and text messages since Sunday.

This is the price I pay for standing up for myself, for telling others how I want things to be. Evidently, people don't expect that from me and have always known me to bend to their will. They don't like it one bit.

I really feel at odds with their reactions. I've always been a people-pleaser, anxious not to hurt feelings and step on toes. As a result, my own toes have been crushed repeatedly. It's hard not to revert back to placating and apologizing!

Yesterday, The Spider broke her silence. But only because she wanted something from me. She offered no pleasantries; her email was brief and frosty. She's trying to form a critique group (since she got kicked out of ours) and wants me to give her the email address of a mutual acquaintance/writer. She also wanted to know if I'd participate in her group. I'd like to email her "There's no way in hell." Instead, I'm going to be as brief and frosty as she was, give her the email address and cite my busy schedule and new job as reasons I will not join her group.

The The Spider's silent treatment will probably resume.

As for my mom, I'm simply going to fight fire with fire. Or silence with silence. I promise, she'll break first.

I'm angry. So very angry.

Things were slow today at The Questionable Company, so I had a lot of time on my hands. Time to repeatedly check my cell phone to see if my mom had responded to a text message I'd sent TWO DAYS AGO. Then I sent her another one. Still no response. And she didn't respond to the email I sent on Sunday in which I gently explained to her how I heaped enough guilt on myself for going back to work and could she please not add to that guilt?

My email must have put a bee in her bonnet and if so, then I've got a hornet's nest in mine.

I have so many angry thoughts pinging around in my head, I can't decide where to start. First of all, this silent treatment of hers is not only childish, it's passive-aggressive. She used to pull this crap on me when I was a teen - she'd not speak to me if I'd done something that pissed her off. She'd be sweet to my brothers and totally ignore me. (For the record, she did this to any of us, not just me.) I couldn't stand to be shunned by my own mother, so she won. I ended up apologizing and begging forgiveness. And just like that, she'd be all better and start acknowledging me again.

Now I've already mentioned how absurdly unfair it is, being nagged and guilt-tripped when I've done the best I can do for my daughter, for my family and for my life. And meanwhile, she enables and rewards my brother's irresponsibility.

So she's pulling out her old trick, the big Silent Treatment. She's in for a surprise. I'm not sending her another text or email and I'm not calling her. And I guarantee, she's going to break the silence first. I have the best bargaining chip: her only grandchild. If she wants to know what's going on with her granddaughter, well, by God, she's going to f*cking stop this passive-aggressive bullsh*t and contact me.

I was on a slow simmer by the time I got home from work and the 90 degree temps didn't help. As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed numerous cars were parked in The Spider's driveway. She was having yet another pool party.

Last summer, she plied her way into my life on the hottest days, inviting me and my daughter over to her pool 3-4 times a week. You can imagine how wonderfully refreshing it is to soak in a sparkling cool swimming pool on hot days.

So, this summer, she's given an abundance of pool parties and it's almost as if she's going out of her way to flaunt it in my face. "Nyeah, nyeah, you're not invited into my pool.!" It's not the pool itself I care about. It's her whole attitude - how she used her pool as a way to lure me into a relationship to get something she wants from me. And this year, since she no longer "needs" me, she sees no need to invite me over to swim.

Not that I'd go. It's just the principle of the thing!

By the time my husband got home, I was pacing around, fuming, a thundercloud following me around. I told him that I was sick of women in my life who have attempted to emotionally manipulate me. My mom. The Spider. I asked my husband, "Have I ever tried to get what I want by being passive-aggressive or a manipulator? Am I like that?" He said no, definitely not.

Over ten years ago I briefly saw a therapist. During those visits, she seemed to be trying to make me place blame on my mother for some of my issues. I laugh now when I think how defensive I got, how I told her, "Don't you ask me about my mother - she did the best she could and I will not place any blame on her for how she raised me."

Welllll...how ridiculously naive and ignorant I was back then.

My general practitioner gave me the name of a therapist. I'm leaning towards making an appointment and you can bet the first words out of my mouth are going to be, "Let's talk about the crap my mom pulls on me."

Guilt via text.

I recently got a new cell phone with a texting plan. My parents, brother and cousins text each other all the time and I wanted in on that; it seemed like fun.

I should have known that my mom would use texting as yet another way to apply the guilt.

It doesn't matter that I'm forty-one years old, married for over 17 years and have managed to raise a child who is happy and thriving. No, she still needs to tell me what to do because, in her mind, I'm clueless and in desperate need of guidance.

And, this is the kicker: my other brother has been homeless, jobless, living in his car, arrested (more than once), sent to jail (more than once), broken various laws, accumulated numerous misdemeanors and maybe a felony or two, is a deadbeat dad, doesn't report all his income, can't pay his rent or phone bill - my mom REWARDS his behavior by sending him money any time he asks.

But me, I'm law-abiding, independent with a roof over my head, clothes on my back. I'm in a stable relationship, take care of my child and haven't asked for money from my parents in over twenty years. What do I get? All the guilt! I wish the woman could see the double-standards she sets!

My doormat tendencies? The ones that got me in deep with The Spider? Those stem from my relationship with my mother - she's always been hardest on me, even though I've rarely been the one who's given her worry.

In light of my impending status as a full-time working mom, I've been consumed by my own guilt and transition issues, mostly concerning my time with my daughter. So my mom compounds that guilt by heaping on her own concerns, her text messages implying I can't manage and I'll be screwing up my kid's life.

Maybe if I text her back to say I am leaving my husband and trading my daughter for crack, she'll send me a check.