Family

So anyone who has read my blog more than once knows that I don't like my mother and refer to her as egg-donor, El loco or albatross. Don't get all judgemental, she has earned every nickname and a few more that couldn't be repeated on national TV (and sometimes cable). She gives relatives epileptic seizures, migranes and nausea. She creates stress and frustration in her wake. She thrives off of chaos and drama and is only happy when she is as miserable as she makes everyone else.
Last night she came to visit Gryffin. I tried to ignore her as much as possible without leaving her alone in the room with my son. In her sugar coated shit way she bad mouthed people I love and swore that no one cares about her. She's kind of right. I don't really care about her even though I stocked her up on homemade frozen food (as per her request) and am going to have to get up at 5am Monday to drive her ass all over hell's green acre so she can get surgery. I don't care about her but I'm spending the day at a hospital waiting on her sorry butt instead of being at home with my son and husband. Why am I doing this when I don't care about her? Because I care about my family, the family that would have to go through more hell on her part if I didn't. They go through enough as a result of her so this is the least I can do to show them that I love them (not her).