Am I asking too much?

Mom came back from her drive and pretended the hissy fit never happened.

Mom: Well, are we going?
A.: Sure.

When she'd left, I wondered whether she'd do that-- she often does-- and also wondered whether it was because deep down, she knows she's wrong. At heart, she's sane, and she has pretenses toward fairness, so when it comes down to it, i.e. when she calms down, she can't really convince herself that she was in the right. But she never opts to talk about it or apologize in any way, and she continues to partly blame the other person. Which is fair enough-- I'm not saying I'm blameless. Nonetheless, mom's lack of self-awareness is stunning.

Mom: By the way, you can get AT&T wireless for $70/month.
A.: AT&T wireless refers to cell phone service, not internet.
Mom: It was internet.
A.: Could we just drop it? Please?
Mom: Suit yourself.

Later, on our walk, after the fresh air had calmed us down, the lack of self-awareness kept coming.

Dad: You look upset.
A.: Why did I buy that house?? What was I thinking?
Mom: I thought it was a bad idea...

This, in and of itself, didn't bother me at all. Nothing I ever do strikes mom as the best idea. But she kept going.

Mom: ...I mean, you always had an attitude problem, and the house issues have just exacerbated it. You've become very 'rough.'
A.: You've been calling me 'rough' for years.
Mom: Well, it's worse.

***
She's not entirely wrong. As I've mentioned, I'm tired, I'm wounded and I'm generally overwhelmed. After a month of trying to get the house ready for habitation, there's much to be done. I'm too dumb to assemble even the easy furniture; I finished painting only to leave many a paint stain on the floors, in spite of using dropcloths and other precautions; I fumigated with foggers two days in a row, but there was still the odd roach in the house when I left; I was supposed to get the house cleaned while I was away, but left the keys in the wrong mailbox; and in my efforts to remove a broken closet door track, I overreached and fell off a step ladder-- breaking a bookshelf and impaling my thumb on one of its nails.

I wanted to become handy, I wanted to learn, but this stuff really doesn't come naturally to me. I don't speak the language of this foreign land-- I'll read directions-- for example, for the blinds I tried to install the other day-- but they don't make sense to me. Even with three seat cushions upholstered and ready to reattach, I can't figure out how to put them back on the chairs, even though I'd taken them off. As for the forth, my staple gun stopped shedding staples. It makes the noise, it doesn't appear to be jammed, but nothing comes out. Which I guess means another trip to Home Depot.

Ah, Home Depot. At least I'm doing my part to help the economy... of Home Depot; and Lowes; and Crate & Barrel Outlet. Quantities of money that I used to spend over the course of months now accrues to my credit card bill in a week or even days. I'm finally learning my way around those stores-- the first time I walked through one, I was a bewildered tourist. I had no idea where to start, I was lost. I can't quite say that I'm found. I want to go home, except it's too late, there's no turning back.

But I digress. Kind of. Given that this is my state of mind, would it be too much to ask for mom to be somewhat more *supportive*? I know it's a stretch. But rather than baiting me and stressing me out more-- deliberately or otherwise--could she maybe say something that would make me feel better or at least not make me feel worse? I think this calls for a poll.