See you in Toledo

I have seven brothers and sisters. And yes, I am the youngest -- I'm sure that explains a lot to those who believe in the birth order thing. Out of the eight of us, seven of us all get along. The lone wolf, black sheep or as I like to refer to her, my mother's other daughter, gets along with one of my brothers.

And it's not like we're mean to her. We invite her to things, she doesn't come. When we do see her, everything is very civil. But, being the youngest perhaps, I take things more personally, I take things more literally and am not so quick to forgive. Some of the things that I'm still pissed at: she didn't come to my niece's wedding shower, wedding or baby shower; she didn't send my other niece (her god-daughter, by the way) a get well card when she was in a serious car accident; and don't even get my started on what a bitch she's been about my parents' anniversary party and not wanting to be a team player.

My mother has these grand illusions -- along the lines of me marrying Dave or Ed (who you might remember are already married, but whose pictures she cropped to make a picture not of the three of us, but rather me and one of them as a couple) -- that one day, all eight of us will get along like the freakin' Waltons. She tries, she manipulates, she cries and prays -- it ain't going to happen.

When they were here on Sunday, they asked how my elderly great-aunt and uncle were getting to the party. I told them I had it under control -- after pictures at 6, my brother Bob was going to get them.

Knowing my mother the way I do, she held on to that tidbit of information -- that we were doing family pictures at 6 even though the party doesn't start until 7. And this morning I got the following e-mail from her, under the guise of thanking me again for dinner and wanting to know if I wanted my container back.

"Also does Sue know the time for family pictures? remember they need to pick up Marge. so they can plan accordingly."

First of all Marge, my sister's mother-in-law, lives 20 minutes from them and only 5 minutes from the hotel where the party is. So I'm not exactly sure what kind of grand travel plans they need to make -- maybe a trip tick from AAA? Secondly, the party is two freaking months away. The invitations haven't even gone out yet -- so presumably, she doesn't even know when the party exactly is, let alone that I need her there an hour early.

My response to Fran:

"I know you mean well in asking about Sue -- and I know I don't like her, but that doesn't mean that I'm not communicating with her. I'll let everyone know as things gets closer what time they need to be there. I've only mentioned it to some when I've asked them to do something specific."

I knew what I would be in for -- I just knew it. And Fran did not disappoint:

"sorry I know you have everything under control. I know your feelings and I'm sorry that very hurt feelings exist I know Sue can be difficult at times but everyone has their times. I pray that things will get better, I know they will never be as they were, but I just have to believe in time they may. I love all of you very much and am proud of all that has been accomplished in your lives. All are different love MOM"

And yes, these are exact copy and pastes. I figure why should I be the only one frustrated with her non-sentences and lack of punctuation and grammar. I couldn't let her get the last word (again, I think this has to do with me being the youngest), so I responded again:

"You just need to be happy with the fact that you have a relationship with all of your kids and stop trying to make the rest of us like each other."

End of discussion -- it has been a Fran-free day since this all took place in under 20 minutes this morning. My sister has made her decision about living her life the way she wants, without her family. She seems perfectly happy and content with her asshole husband and their friends. But it is something that my mother will never accept.

And unfortunately, until or unless she accepts this, she will be the only one unhappy about this situation.