God there are so many. Some of the more outrageous things from my mum:
I asked her if she wanted to come and visit my cousin, who had just had a baby. She wrinkled her nose and said "No, I find babies so boring." I laughed and said something like I was surprised I'd survived into adulthood when she was so un-maternal. She sat on that for a while, then later said "You really hurt me with that comment. If you must know, it's because I'm so sad to know I'll never be a grandmother." I said... "You ARE a grandmother!" My son, who is adopted, was 15 then. She said "Well, he doesn't really count, does he."
After yet another one of her relationships had broken up, she told me in all seriousness that she'd seen a documentary about how men's brains naturally made them aggressive, and that she thought all boy children should be tested for aggression age 7 and lobotomized if they didn't pass a test. When I said "Alright Dr Mengele" she got offended.
When I was about 2yrs old, several times she pretended to fall down the stairs and lie there faking unconsciousness while I cried and tried to wake her up. I'm not sure how long she let it go on for before she "woke" - in my memory it was hours but perhaps it was only a minute or two. Her explanation was that she was making sure I'd know what to do if there was a genuine accident.
I honestly had no idea that one wasn't normal - I think because I was SO young - that I only realised when I mentioned it in passing at work one day and everyone looked at me horrified.
In common with many on this thread, she was insanely competitive over body size. I was alternately fat-shamed, then when I lost weight I would tip over a certain line in her head to being competition, and I would be told I was "getting much too skinny".
=========== TRIGGER WARNING S/A ==========
My dad abused me for over two years. My mum knew but her only attempt at safe guarding was to tell him not to do it again. Guess how well that worked?
Unsurprisingly in my teens I was suicidal, traumatised, PTSD, some days I just couldn't speak out loud. She would shout into my face, shake me, and then ask what was I crying for, I had nothing to complain of and as long as I was a virgin then nothing had really happened.
When I eventually disclosed to a teacher what had happened, social services got involved etc and my dad was made to leave the house. He divorced my mum for unreasonable behaviour (!) This meant our nice comfortable lifestyle dissolved as he didn't pay a penny in maintenance and he paid her the bare minimum in the settlement.
After we'd moved (yeah he kept the house) one day I said something in passing about the new house - I think it was along the lines of "I keep forgetting this fridge opens the other side to our old one." My mum said "Well. Don't blame me. Because we are in this house because of YOUR SELFISHNESS. Don't you dare complain about it because YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED. Your dad is gone and now we have no money so I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY."
She once asked me "why complain to the teacher now, he hadn't touched you for a year or so, it could all have been forgotten" (tell my PTSD that, please!) I said to her that it was because I could see he had started grooming my younger sister in exactly the same way he had me. She snorted and said "Don't be so ridiculous, he doesn't even like your sister, she annoys him."
Decades later she ended up moving in with me as she couldn't afford to pay her mortgage. I started dating someone new and the first time he slept over he woke up early so wandered down to the kitchen to get a brew. She spent an hour talking to him starting off with "I think there's some things you should know about Vex..." - told him about my dad abusing me (her version, obviously, where she'd sacrificed everything to protect me and my sister.) He came back upstairs a bit shell-shocked and he later said to me "Your mum is so bitter against you." I was still so deep in the fog then that I sat there and defended her to him!
Strangely - or not - the physical and sexual abuse from my dad was easier in many ways to get over (thanks to lots of therapy) than the emotional abuse from my mum. Because the abuse was tangible. It was something I could say "yes that happened and it was obviously very wrong." But emotional abuse is so hard to see for what it is, because it's always there, it's woven into the fabric of your relationship and it just feels like reality. My mum died earlier this year and I've started therapy anew. I've only now come to realise how the abuse from my mum has shaped almost every part of my life and behaviours.