11.26.2004

me and the old man

it is early thanksgiving morning, and although i am hosting thanksgiving dinner at my house, my father has insisted that he be the one to prepare the bird. we aren't eating until 2, so dad is over at 9 am to get things going. i greet him at the door in my pajama's, looking like i have been on a bender. "you wanted to do this, remember?" is his way of saying hello. i quickly turn him over to my husband in the kitchen. dan will be responsible for informing dad where he can find a decent knife because he forgot to bring his own. he does bring his own carrots, onion and celery because i can't be trusted to have these things available. dan will also be there to open various cabinets and drawers, since i haven't choosen my kitchen knobs yet. "well, i would like to throw out this turkey bag without spilling the blood all over the floor, but i can't find the garbage" is dad's way of asking dan where we keep our garbage can. turkey blood is all over my floor anyway, but dan is there with the bleach to clean up behind my dad. i am hiding in the basement with the children pretending to be cleaning. when i do climb up from my safe spot i meet my father in the kitchen about to pour coffee into a measuring cup because he can't find any coffee mugs, if we even have such a thing. i quickly produce a cup for him without saying a word. i keep telling myself, let it go. this is my first holiday without zoloft in 3 years. let it go.

my dad is an extremely intelligent man. dan says, "wicked smart." that's no lie. dad tells me about a movie he and my mom saw recently. i understood this movie to be one of those, "man redeems himself before death" stories. not so. according to dad, this was an attack on modern society and that all the world's problems can be solved with a solid dose of capitalism. corruption rules! my dad said that this movie should be on rush limbau's must see list. his commentary on this movie runs for about 10 minutes. i have nothing to add to the discussion. not only have i not seen the movie, but i don't understand what my dad is even talking about. i continue to nod and drink my tea, my head swimming with possible comments. anything that won't make me sound like a complete fool. after all these years, i am still incredibly intimidated by my father. i so desperately want him to think i am smart. in the past, when my dad and i have attempted conversations like this, i end up making some stupid insepid little comment to which my father responds with a shaking of his head and a deep resigned sigh as if saying, "how is this my child?" i pray that he won't ask me any questions and my wish is granted. he is deep in thought, probably about the inadaquacy of my oven size or lack of proper tin foil.

"no parade today?" this innocent question holds so many hidden meanings you would need a complete labotomy if i attempted to give you the entire family history. no, we did not take the kids to the parade. i am too lazy. and yes, EVERY SINGLE YEAR my father took me to the parade. he was more reliable than a mailman. thru rain, snow, or sleet -- dad took me to the parade. i knew what was coming. the story about the year that he nearly caught pnemonia taking me to the parade in the freezing rain. the temperature was about 4, the roads were covered with ice from the freezing rain that continued to pour down during the entire parade. dad wore his down coat which became the cloak of death. luckily, he had found a spot for us right in front of a bar. halfway during the parade he tapped my leg and said, "stay here. i will be right back." where was i going to go? dad had put me on top of his homemade scaffolding. he went into the bar and asked the bartender for a cup of coffee. the bartender took pity on my father and also provided a shot of bourbon free of charge. on the ride home i asked my dad if he thought the parade was as good as i did. "sure" was his reply. it wasn't until i was an adult that i understood that adults, parents in particular, don't always have a good time at things like parks, parades or the circus. there is so much that children don't understand about being the grown up: the person who drives, has to find the parking spot, carries the ladders and the large sheet of plywood, finds a decent spot, creates the viewing area, puts the child on the scaffolding, and then proceeds to wait thru the parade in the cold and freezing rain. not once did he try and convince me to go home early, or even discourage me from going at all. not once did he complain about being cold or bored. the resentment was there, but it was quiet and restrained. it was the kind of tension that kept me from bothering him. it was understood that i was to simply enjoy myself, by myself.

my old man. now i am an adult, married with a family of my own. yet, i am still that little 7 year old girl. i understand my job is to be quiet around him. to find a decent bowl to hold the potatos, supply coffee, have extra cans of chicken broth available -- this is my role this thanksgiving. all of a sudden my dad turns to me and says, "you know that bar we were in from of that one parade...the one where i nearly died?" he proceeds to share a story with me about he and his friend sitting in that bar looking out on jefferson avenue. all of a sudden a man passed the front window. my father turned to his friend and said, "did you see who that was?" his friend nodded and answered, "that was dick williams." dick had been my father's best friend and had died suddenly 5 years earlier. it was an extremely difficult death for my dad, one from which he has never recovered. dick is remembered fondly by my dad, but ony rarely and not for very long. it remains too painful for him. my dad says to me, "can you believe it. dick williams right there on jefferson avenue. dead for 5 years. didn't even stop in for a drink." he turns away from me, but i can see the tears.

all i can do is smile. to reach out and touch him would make him feel awkward and uncomfortable. that is something that we don't do in our family. sudden bursts of emotion are not met with comfort and hugs. instead we prefer conversations involving food or driving directions. "dad, do you think i have enough chicken broth?" this was his reponse:

"jesus, why do you buy these big cans. just buy the little cans. if you buy these big cans, then you have to use the whole can at once. don't tell me you can save it. it loses all the flavor if left in the fridge. where is your funnel? what do you mean you don't have a funnel. well, i will make do, but if this dinner doesn't turn out right i will just have to tell everyone that you didn't have the funnel."

ok dad. by the way, the dinner was delicious. and i made sure he took all the credit.

11.22.2004

yo mama no love you no mo

it is official. my mother does not love me anymore. i knew this would happen. in fact, i have just been waiting for it to happen. and now it has....

i was at my breaking point on sunday morning. it had been a loooooong week riddled with extra "harvest feast" stress with a deadly combo of drama thrown in. by friday evening i was in tears, ready to put on my p.j.'s and stay in them for the next 2 weeks. on sunday dan expected me to attend a reunion luncheon with a friend of his that he hadn't spoken to in 13 years. now we were to have lunch with he and his wonderful wife. why did i have to go? i didn't know this person. i didn't go to the wedding. why the fuck should i have to shower, shave (like they would be checking my armpits, no i didn't shave my legs--my own personal protest), wear make-up, attempt a "do" with my hair, AND FIND DECENT CLOTHES THAT WOULD BOTH COVER MY ASS AND BE CLEAN.

come on, i love my dan, but he was asking for trouble by making me do this. my mother calls to check in with me, "well, everything ok, hon?" NO! i am not fine for fuck's sake. i am angry. i am just so done with doing things for other people. look, i know how awful i sound, but fuck that. i am sick of getting shit together to put in my car and drive it somewhere else. fucking harvest feasts. i am done driving in rush hour traffic to my parents house with 2 high-strung nutcases to pick up a turkey, only to be told when i arrive that my kids are acting "kind of wild" and that i didn't need to pick up the bird after all. FUCK THAT GIMME THE TURKEY FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

are you getting the impression i am just a little fed up with all of humanity? well, i am. so now i have got to dress-up and showcase myself as "dan's wife." oh, fuck me. just what i want to do. smile, make small talk with strangers and hope my fancy face isn't melting. i am explaining to my mother --- this is the woman who gave birth to me --- that i want to stay home in my sweatpants. the stress of this event is too much, i am not up to being charming with strangers. my mom --- keep in mind this is my mother, the woman who is supposed to love me --- then says the following.

picture yourself on the other end of the phone, mouth open in schock, too stunned to reply which makes her fire-off these little nibbles of advice with such force that i am left completely speechless.....

"YOU ARE IN A FAT PHASE NOW"
"JOIN THE Y AND GET SOME EXERCISE"
"I KNOW YOU DON'T EAT WELL"
"DID YOU THROW OUT ALL THAT HALLOWEEN CANDY, YET"
"IF YOU ARE NEGATIVE, YOU WILL LOOK NEGATIVE TO PEOPLE AROUND YOU"
"I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU ARE SO HARD ON YOURSELF"
"TAKE A HOT SHOWER AND PUT ON SOME LIPSTICK"
"DO YOU EVEN HAVE LIPSTICK ANYMORE"
"MAYBE YOU NEED TO BUY CLOTHES THAT WILL FIT YOU"
"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE SO MUCH LAUNDRY"
"YOU WEAR THE SAME THING ALL THE TIME, WHY DON'T YOU HAVE ANY CLEAN CLOTHES"
"IF YOU DIDN'T SPEND SO MUCH TIME AT THE SCHOOL, THEN YOU COULD GET YOUR CHORES DONE AROUND THE HOUSE"
"YOU SHOULD GET OUT AND MEET SOME PEOPLE"
"DON'T BE SO SHY"
"TRY TO SMILE, IT WILL LIGHTEN YOUR FACE" (note: i don't know what this means)
"YOU DON'T HAVE ANY REAL PROBLEMS"
"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU"
"DANIEL DOESN'T ASK MUCH OF YOU, DO THIS FOR HIM"
"YOU ARE SO LUCKY TO BE MARRIED TO A MAN LIKE DAN"
"WHY CAN'T YOU HELP HIM OUT, REMEMBER HE IS UNDER TREMENDOUS PRESSURE RIGHT NOW"
"DAN IS SO WONDERFUL, THINK OF HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO BE MARRIED TO HIM"
"I AM SURE DAN WOULD DO THIS FOR YOU"
"GET SOME EXERCISE, YOU WILL FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOURSELF"
"WHY ARE YOU SO DOWN ON YOURSELF"

why indeed? i knew that when dan's parent's completely rejected him that my parents would step right in and become his parents. in fact, they refer to dan as their son, not a son-in-law, but as their son. i have always considered myself lucky that my parents love dan. i just didn't think that their love of me would be the price i pay.

fine....deep breath. i can do this. i will not let this get me down. i am going to be ok. i have parent teacher conferences tonight. it will be fine. nik is a beautiful, charming, intelligent boy (true story: my mother after describing how wonderful nik is actually said, "JUST LIKE HIS WONDERFUL FATHER"). deep breath. calm calm calm. i so want to climb into bed and wrap my fat around me like a little love cocoon. just me and my cellulite. a match made in heaven.

that's ok, cooper thinks i rock. and he could care less how full my saddle bags are. and, his attitude is much better than my mother's. why shower, shave and put on lipstick. let's just climb onto the couch, eat an entire bag of mini carrots and fall asleep while watching british parliment on c-span.

11.14.2004

don't eat the paint, baby

all art projects in my house involve someone attempting (sometimes successfully) to consume paint, glue, or playdough. it is very common to hear me say, "hey, that paint looks better on your picture than on your teeth." or, "don't eat the glue, your stomach will close up and you won't be able to eat candy ever again." these empty threats are met with a smirk.

emma survived her birthday party, although i feel as if i am now harboring a tapeworm. she seemed really surprised that people brought her gifts, "why did my friends give me all these pretty things? did you see all the pretty hair things?" yes, i did see all the pretty hair things. after saturday i believe the total amount of hairclips emma has now reaches into the thousands. my feet hurt just looking at them. i can hardly wait to pry these little weapons of mass destruction out from the heels of my feet. the party has made emma love her friends even more, and has brought out a generous side of her. "i am going to make kate this pretty picture because she gave me the dora doll at my party." is this my child? her good mood has lasted all day and has even extended itself to her brother. "nik, come play with my new dolls, do you want to play in my new tent, why don't we get you a new tent, too." dan and i stood frozen in the hallway. did she just ask her brother to play? is that emma?

aren't we awful. instead of celebrating this step of maturity in our daughter, we doubt. we are suspicious. if you knew evita the way we do, you too would be skeptical.

i have made a decision....thanksgiving is my new favorite holiday, replacing halloween. i just like the name. and any holiday that the main focus is food is perfect for me and my big fat ass. the candy of halloween is always nice, but there is just something so warm and fuzzy about a holiday that carries over to the next day and involves me eating cold stuffing in my p.j.'s. and what other holiday allows you to eat green bean cassarole for 3 days (p.j.'s now replaced with sweatpants.)?

thanksgiving also has a peanuts special. thanksgiving, you are the shit!

11.10.2004

anybody seen my anxiety?

dan says that he can tell when i am in a very deep state of denial because i engage in "unusual behavior involving our pets." let me explain, emma will be turning 4 this saturday and will be having her first real birthday party. i know some mothers would consider me unfit for not having thrown her both a disney princess birthday and an american girl birthday party already. call protective services! so now we are having 5 of her loudest, cutest, wildest girlfriends over for 2 hours of "scream-a-palooza" fueled by an intense sugar-buzz. and of course, like a fool, i have also included siblings. so really i am looking at having about 15 kids, aged 3 - 13 in my house on saturday afternoon.

i am fully aware that there are things i need to be doing to prepare for this epic event, but somehow i haven't given it much thought. i can see all the piles of laundry to be put away, the vaccuming that needs to be done, the filth in the bathroom screaming at me, and yet....i do nothing. or rather, i do other things......

dan found me in the bathroom giving cooper, our beloved dog a haircut and a bath. his response was, "oh god, you are really depressed."

what? i am not depressed. i feebly attempted to defend myself until he reminded me about the time that i was throwing a world cup party (that would be starting in the wee hours of the morning) and he found me giving our cats a bath. (may they rest in peace, and no it was not because of the bath. i did not pull a silkwood on them, despite what dan says.) needless to say, the world cup party was a huge success, so much so that i took a nap in the middle of the event.

for those of you unaware of the world cup, what can i tell you? you are really missing something.

i am sure emma's party will not be as stressful as predicted and i will survive, and not take a nap during the party. i am not stressed. i feel no tension. i am dreading this event. really......i am not.....it will be fine.....don't worry about me. now, if you will excuse me, cooper needs a blow out.

11.06.2004

into this life a little rain must fall

being let down is a way of life. the love of my life is honestly surprised when he is faced with disappointment. he convinces himself something is always going to be as good as expected. and then he is heartsick when things aren't as good as he had hoped. this can be anything from the election to trying a taco pizza. he is so stunned when things don't turn out the way he had hoped.

i on the other hand am quite accustomed to being let down and disappointed. it starts every morning when i wake up. i think, ok--new beginning. a fresh start. a new day. things will be different today. then i realize we are out of bread and milk and this will be the day that i go to the supermarket. things don't really change. upon returning home from the grocery store i run for the bathroom, bladder about to explode, only to realize we are also out of toilet paper. funny how i didn't know this before i went to the store. things remain the same.

i make plans, try to be hopeful, but always am confronted with the ugly side of humanity. it amazes me how with one word, one inference a person can reduce me to tears. have i not learned by lesson? beware those who claim to be your friends...these people often do the most damage.

why is it that i am not surprised that this daily grind is my life, but i am truly shocked when someone hurts my feelings. do i expect more from people? these are the things i think about when cleaning my toilets, doing the laundry, cooking dinner (that no one but my husband will eat). what is it about some people who always fail you? i try to be positive and give people the benefit of the doubt, i make excuses for people, rationalize their bad behavior...and for what? to be left feeling angry? fuck that.

someone once told me: "people are stupid and it is always something." this shoe sure does fit. i will continue to try and be positive, but come on, let's get real here. misery loves company. i just don't want to be that companion anymore.

11.02.2004

THE RETURN OF THE HERMIT CRABS

ahh yes, election day. this is the day that we wake up our children so that they can be part of the election process. and let me tell you there is nothing that puts a 3 year old in a bad mood quicker than waking her up at 6:30, getting her dressed, skipping her breakfast and making her wait in line (in the rain). what fun!

to kill time (and yes, we had plenty of it, since it took almost an hour to vote) i talked and talked to my babies about how important this day is, this is not a right, but an obligation to vote. i reminded them that this is the proudest moment you can have as an american by taking a small part in the giant political machine. one man, one vote. when the children would get restless (weren't we all restless--what is it about waiting in line that triggers my bladder) i would remind them that men and women faught wars and died so that we could exercise our duty by voting. there i am, caught up in the moment, reminding them that there was a time that not everyone could vote. i made serious eye contact with emma, as if to use mental telepathy, so that she (as a woman) would understand that voting is a relatively new thing for us chicks.

nik, being nik asked: "hey mom..did the FOUR FATHERS have to wait in line back then to vote?"

not about to be stumped, i replied (in a high-pitched ranting voice): "YES! it is a long tradition that we wait in a long and confusing line only to be yelled at by the hermit crabs and then finally get our ballot and cast our vote. my parents always brought me and now i intend to inflict this cruel tradition on to you and your sister!"

nik: "mom, (long pause) i am not sure if i want to ask you, but are you ok?"

me: "yes, i am just so proud to be an american."

with that, emma threw her bag of cheez-its into the air. as the cheez-its rained down on me one of the hermit crabs said, "maybe next time you will leave your children at home." i want you to know that i did not say the following in reply:

NEXT TIME, YOU'LL BE DEAD

hey, i did not say it, but i could of. i swear to god, if kerry doesn't win this election i am personally going to go to boston and knock his teeth out. nik is also hoping that kerry wins. i asked him why he likes kerry.

nik: "i like the hair."

hey, people have used lesser reasoning when picking a president. it is still a free country....