Feel bad: Well, um. A few things jump out at me.
First, sympathy. It’s so hard to find a way to be with people we love who are just pushing our buttons. You’re ready to try now, because you want something from your mother, which is opportunistic and not ideal, but in a way that’s a good thing. In other circumstances, you would probably keep her at a distance; by needing her, you have the opportunity to find a better way to communicate.
Second, it doesn’t “make” you feel anything; she is herself, and she bores you herself. It is the only transaction. And you don’t “tolerate” anything she does to you; you decide if the benefits of his involvement outweigh the disadvantages. That’s it.
While you can talk to her about some of the ways the two of you communicate, it’s mostly something you deal with within yourself. As in: Can you change the way you interpret and therefore respond to your mother’s comments?
Adding it all up, I see the mom thing works if you can, basically, get over yourself. (That is, stop seeing it as being about you.) Accept his listening as the verbal release of his. [stuff]. Maybe she’s anxious or clumsy or she needs attention or martyrdom points or whatever, and she doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to handle that better. Can you train yourself to breathe through your own reflexive objections, toward the greater good of having help (now) and (over time) strengthening its bond with your children?
If so, then try constructive responses to her tutorials: “You are a champion, mom”. “Leave me the dishes if you want.” “Yeah, I swear they’re multiplying.” Give her a few gentle options to see what releases the pressure. Choose the best and move on.
You want to scream, but on a deeper level you want to hear yourself better and even understand her. This is where deep breaths come in. Ignore the impulse to react, then breathe in the highest good, then act.
· Throughout high school, I was a babysitter/mother’s aide in a family. I received regular calls saying, “I need to take a shower” or “I need to mop the floor. Can you come?” I would go for less than an hour, usually, to “make sure no one dies”. Made some change, helped her tremendously and loved it I think his mother was just as hard to help.
· Did you ask your mother (I keep typing “disturb”, Freudian) to stop making comments? Like, explicitly? I recently asked my mom to stop commenting on my body, which she finds helpful. (“You look pregnant in that dress.”)
