Mrs - I get similar, from mine. She likes to keep reminding me how "bloody awful" I was when I was a child. I didn't sleep, apparently, between two and 19 months - so she "had to be put on sleeping pills from the doctors, just so that [she] could get some sleep!" When I asked her what the doctor had suggested be done about my lack of sleep, she said "oh, nothing; he just agreed with me that you were a bloody awful child and should be left in your cot, with the door shut so that I couldn't hear you screaming!"
And then there's the litany of her complaints about how quiet I was, how I kept hugging my Gran, how I didn't like the food she made for me (she used to shove spoonful, after spoonful, after spoonful into my mouth without giving me time to swallow any of them - it's a good job I inherited my Gran's jowls, because I learned at a very young age to shove the spoonfuls into them so I didn't choke!). And the one I find most heartbreaking? How she forced DB1 (who was 16 at the time) to teach me how to read, when I was 2 years old, because I "kept pestering [her] all of the time to read to [me] - book, after book, after book and [I] kept shoving them onto [her] lap when [she] was trying to watch the TV!"
My father worked away a lot of the time (military) but I understand now that, when he was home, he enabled her neglect of us. My Gran did her best to make sure we had decent meals (my mother refuses to cook, because apparently that's my father's "job"), and cuddles, and I spent pretty much all weekend, every weekend in her home, tucked up in my father's childhood bed, so that my mother could "have a break". And yes, I did prefer to cuddle my Gran, because I knew without doubt that she loved me.
Deep down, I know that my mother had a shit childhood (out of four children, only my mother still speaks to my maternal grandmother... who I refuse to have anything to do with, or allow my children anywhere near, she's that toxic!), but because of that... so did I. Yet I still manage to tell my children that I love them (even my daughter, who has spectacularly gone off the rails knows that I love her... I just don't trust her at the moment), and help them with homework, and listen to them without making it all about me. I might not be the world's greatest cook, but I manage to cook them dinners, and help with their lunches, and make sure that cereal or toast is eaten for breakfast instead of biscuits or cake... I read endless books to them both when they were tiny, and I read to them every night before bed. My DS is 11 now, and I only stopped reading to him before bed a few months ago because he wanted to read to me, instead. I attend parents evenings, and I fuss around them when they're poorly because I'm worried. I don't leave them to it like my mother did to DB1 and myself (DB2, the Golden Child, had endless attention from her). And I have never left my daughter, who is 8 years older than my son, to look after him, the way DB1 was left to mind me.
OP - thank you for starting this thread. It's very cathartic. Like you, I have spent years thinking that I was the only one who had a mother who hated them. All of my friends have fantastic relationships with their mothers, and I've wasted years thinking/believing that there was something wrong with me because I didn't. 
to you in gratitude.