Mother. This is MY Millie.

**Uses Language And Female References. Might Be Slightly Awkward For Men Reading This**

My Mother was evil. She was one of the worst mothers.

No compassion. Bending my life to fit in hers. When I knew I could control my life, she bent it in different ways, like I was a doll, and she was the kid playing with me. Creating what I said, what I did, and when I did things. I wanted to be a mother who gives instructions, and my child being a pottery artist, who would create his life how he wanted it, with guidelines.

But now, I am a mother. My little baby. My little Millie. "Gentle Strength" her name means. So small now. Growing so slowly that no one notices that she is slightly bigger until she can't fit into a certain size of clothing.

Her ear against my bosom. Feeling my heartbeat.

Her little hands, her fingers around my finger. So strong, yet so tiny.

My Husband standing right next to my bed, his eyes filling with glee and he looks at his tiny daughter.

His whole body shakes with joy as I hand my baby to him. He cradles her like a big brother. He cries too, as the baby cries.

He sings her a little hymn, and she eventually calms down.

He places her back on my breast, and she starts to sleep.

The surrounding doctors try to get me not so focused on her, but my focus does not waver, as I look at my little one. Happy tears fall down my face and onto her little head. She sleeps so calmly.

Her little face. Her little feet and hands curled up. Her whole body swaddled up in a blanket. Just asleep. Happy life. Happy dreams. Until she starts crying. But still. Happy times for a growing baby.

I wish my mother could've done that for me. Just been there, staying with me. Not talking, but sitting there can be the best therapy.

That moment was instant.

But the one with mine felt like forever.

But her, up against my chest. Sleeping peacefully, calmly, tranquil.

We finally take her home and our son has his first conversation with his little sister.

"James."

"Yes, mama?"

"Meet your newborn sister, Grace."

His eyes sparkle with joy.

"Hi." He waves at her.

She gurgles, as he places his hand on hers. Her little mouth curls into a smile.

He giggles.

"Now. Can you promise us, while she still sleeps in a crib, to treat her nicely?"

"Sure. I'll try, mama."

My husband hears what James said and replies in an old man's voice, "Only Do, and Do Not. There is no try"

James laughs.

"WhErE iS mY lItTlE gRaNdDaUgHtEr?!" We hear from outside our house.

I and my husband immediately know what to do. She did the same thing with James when we brought him home.

He brought James upstairs to the TV room, I dragged the baby carriage into the living room, with toys, and a nursing blanket. I heard the theme song to a TV show that James likes to play.

The boys were occupied, so I just had to deal with my parents. Specifically my mother.

I hear the door creek open.

My eyes open wide as I grab my baby from the carriage, and place her under a nursing blanket, shushing her as she gurgles.

My mother runs in and finds me in the living room.

"Hello, darling. How are you? How was the drive back? Good? I hope. Now. Where is my granddaughter?" She places her hands on her hips.

Millie starts to nurse, and I relax slightly.

She looks straight upstairs. "Why are you alone down here?! And Why is your husband upstairs watching cartoons?!" She shrieks.

I say, "Because he is with his son. We do not leave him alone, watching TV."

"Watching TV" she mocks me.

"Wow. That's a first."

"What?! What's a first?!"

"You mocking me in spite of."

"Well. I want my grandbabies to be safe."

"Mom. They are My kids. And you have no right to be in my house. So. I am going to call the police in about five minutes in you do not leave."

"No. You and she are MY daughters. And I am not letting you do that-"

"MOM. Shut up!! You are going to wake MY baby!"

"Good! I want to know where she is!"

She starts frantically looking around. My father tries to talk her out of it, but she is lazer-eyed, trying to look for my daughter.

"We know you want to see the baby, but we have an appointment in an hour. So we have to go!"

"But I want to see my baby!!!" She shrieks.

I cover my daughter's little ears under the blanket.

"Mom," I say, sternly.

"Darling. Do you know where your baby is?"

"Absolutely Yes. But why would I tell you, bitch?"

My mother looks aghast at my words.

"Well. I deserve to know that my baby is safe!"

"She is safe. And it's MY baby, mom. It's not yours." I say, unwavering.

She murmurs again, I start to sing a hymn softly as she shrieks,

"Is she more important to you than me?!"

I start to fume as I concentrate on my daughter. After her breathing calms down, I cover her ears and say,

"Actually yes! Dad, could you help me a little here, would ya?"

My dad runs upstairs. I hear the TV pause and hear my father settle in with my son and my husband rushing down the stairs.

"Get out now. Mother-in-law" My husband says.

My mother looks so offended and tries to get out of it. The Karen that she is...

"Well, She wasn't letting me see the baby." She complains.

"Yeah, because the laws are very clear," I say.

"Yep." My husband says.

"I am not leaving until I know that this woman is out of my daughter's house, and she is left in privacy." My dad yells from upstairs.

"Mom."

"Yes, Darling? Are you going to tell me where the baby is?"

"No. But The reason why I am not letting you see her is one, you think that no rules account to you."

She stands there, arms folded, scoffing.

"Two, because you think that you deserve everything; three, you think that everything belongs to you."

She interrupts, laughs, and says, "You really think I do that?"

Everyone looks away and cringes.

"Four, I do not trust your lying ass."

"Wha? You don't trust me? Wasn't I one of your handmaidens, and picked you out a wedding dress?"

"No. Mom. And wasn't I the one to pick out your dress to wear? And I picked out MY wedding dress. You just got me looking in that aisle. Yours was awful on me. Yours looked better on yourself. Oh, wait- that is because it was the same style as your wedding dress!" I say.

"You're just overreacting, honey."

"No, I am not, woman. You just want to control everyone's life like it is yours. Like everyone is a son or a daughter to you that has to bend at your every will. But no. I am a woman now. You are just my mother, who loves my children and does not control my life, but helps me. But you just want to control everyone's life, making it all about you."

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry. Would you like me to check on your baby?"

"Heck no! Also, I forgot to add something to my list! And Five, your chubby, lying, control freak, psychopathic words, and demeanor are making my baby cry." I say, looking at her.

My baby, comically, starts to cry.

I don't take her out from underneath the nursing blanket, but start to sing a hymn and cradle her in her arms.

My husband, without looking back at my mother and with no hesitation, walks over to me and starts singing the hymn too.

My dad walks down and immediately takes my mom by the wrist and pulls her along. When she pulls away, he slaps her and says, "Come on. She is more important than you. Ya bitch."

She sulks as they walk out. I hear her wailing outside.

As my dad yelled at the confused neighbors saying "She is a Karen. Let her sulk in peace."

Once we wait awhile, My husband and I

We hear, muffled,

"LET ME SEE MY GRANDDAUGHTER!!!"

We look over to see my dad standing outside of the car waving at us, and my mom sitting in the backseat wailing to my dad to let her out of the vehicle.

Me and my husband snicker.

"When do you think that she is going to get over it?" He says.

"Never," I reply, scoffing.

I sigh with relief as the day comes to an end. My mother is a menace, my husband is as supportive as he should be, and my dad is the same old man trying to care for his daughter.