Saturday, August 30, 2008

Can you spell e-r-e-c-t-i-o-n?

Last night, my nine year old daughter and I had a girls' night. It was blissful because she's damn good company. I've been waiting a lifetime to spend time with her in this way. Out together, symbiotically. She is finally at that point: genuinely contributing to our time together, helping me to see things differently, teaching me all kinds of cool stuff. This as opposed to just asking lots of questions and needing me. I love her company, she has a fascinating brain, she has a unique perspective on things, and she teaches me as much, if not more, than I teach her.

So anyway, we went to dinner and a musical. My husband hates musicals and I love their cheesy cheese factor. So does my daughter. So we get a little gussied up (read: brushed our hair and decided against the crocs), said goodbye to the boys in the family, and we were on our way.

My heart was swelling like the Grinch's at the end of that story. I love this kid.

During the musical, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, there was this funny scene where one of the boy contestants gets distracted by a girl in the audience who he thinks is...well...hot. So of course it's his turn to stand up in front of the crowd and spell some word, but he's got full wood, what with this girl and all, so he doesn't want to. He misspells the word and breaks in to a five minute song about how his erection killed his chances of winning the spelling bee. Very funny scene, but also slightly confusing to my nine year old.

Hmmmn...

Buttons: (During song) Mom? Mom! What happened? Did he pee his pants? What's an erection? Why is everyone laughing? Can you explain it to me? I don't get it.

Me: Umm. Nope. He didn't pee. I'll explain it in a bit, okay? Now isn't really the right time.

Turning back to the show with great hopes of her dropping it. Fat chance.

Buttons: (getting louder) Mom. Can you just explain it now real quick so I can understand what's going on? Geeze. Just tell me what an erection is pleeeease!

Older ladies sitting in front of us turning around and looking at us. Glad they're not in my shoes? Appalled that I brought her to a musical like this? Annoyed by the racket?

Me: Um. No honey. You'll have to wait on this one. Okay sweetie? And, umm, ssshhhh, okay honey?

Buttons: Increased volume and full on begging me. MOM! C'mon! Just tell me! I'm missing something and it's really BOTHERING me! What is an erection?!?

Me: Matching her volume to try to show who's the boss around here. Listen! You'll wait on this. Do you hear me?!? Now do as I say and stop asking me what an erection is so loudly! Your father and I will explain it to you. Later!

Overall, great night at the theater. Poor kid got what she asked for the next morning.

Buttons: Eewww.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Lost Sister

So my sister, somewhere along the line, was stripped naked of all of her power. When did this happen to my beautiful, strong, supercool, sometimes angry big sister? The one who kicked ass on the soccer field, broke boys' hearts, flung her gorgeous curly blond hair around while she laughed (yes, sometimes at me), told my dad to fuck off, sang out loud, and wasn't afraid of a thing. The one who went to Social Work school, made it almost all the way through, changed her mind and went to Medical School, finished, and became a pediatrician. The creative, independent one with the perfect teeth who taught me how to make tomato sauce from scratch. The one who sent me care packages, even though my own mother never did, when she was in graduate school and I was in college. The one who was so very very powerful. What happened to her?
She did all of that schooly school stuff for so many years that I think she looked up one day and realized that she better take care of some bidniz and find a man to marry - quick. She never was one to fall short of reaching her goal, so she did that too. Only problem was she wasn't very specific when she SET the goal. And she married a tool. A tool named ROLAND.
So she and RoRo play house for a while and have themselves a couple of kids. And these kids and Roland are slowly but surely beating my biggerthanlife supercool sister with the beautiful eyes and hair and laugh into the ground.
For whatever reason, she's decided that everyone's needs are way more important than her own. She is miserable, overlooking herself at every turn. Her kids are horrid to her: screeching and tantruming, and wailing and flailing. She sighs, rolls her eyes, and meets their needs. But never her own. That supercool sister I looked up to so much? She doesn't exist anymore.
And I miss her.