MJE feels oddly at peace today, probably much like someone in hospice who gets the the last big morphine hit and is ready to descend to the depths of hell where he/she belongs, and frankly, where all the fun people go. I guess it’s just a relief from the pre-election tension as well as gratitude that I will no longer receive 50 requests for money in my daily emails for candidates I have never heard of in states I couldn’t point to on a map. Whatever the cause I am grateful for this calm before Jan 26 when the caca hits el ventilador.
Enough politics already, my new great grandchild, henri-henri, is growing more adorable by the day, which is saying something, as everyone knows MJE really doesn’t like babies, at least not my own. His favorite activities at six weeks old are staring at potted plants and lying down. Obviously a genius botanist in the making. Philodendron seems to lead the pack for now but I suspect that the asparagus fern might be a dark horse in the race. I remember when alhambra, our former daughter in law (cannot imagine how she survived 17 years married to our son knut, but I am leaving her $ for each year as justly deserved hazard pay), had me babysit apricot, her two year old first born. If social services had gotten wind of that, alhambra would have been hauled off to the clink for child abuse or neglect pronto. Anywho, I decided I would be a good mudder in law and spruce up their garden as a bonus. So I strapped apricot into her astronaut car seat and off we went to home depot for some flowers. All went well until I was loading the car and turned around to see apricot happily munching on a salvia plant. Yikes!!! I pried her mouth open and extracted whatever greenery I could see and hoped to god she didn’t croak before I hit the road outta town. Fortunately it wasn’t the hallucinogenic variety cause I would have had real hard time explaining to her parents why she was tripping like timothy leary.
Henri-henri is the first child of our grand daughter bandoleira-saturnalia, child of our daughter albatross. Albatross was an unhappy creature from the get go as is evident in every snapshot we have of her as a child. She was like wednesday addams but more deadpan. She literally never smiled, ever. I remember introducing an acquaintance to her and she looked at him like she was gauging how much weight she would need to drown him. He literally stepped back and commented that she certainly was a “somber” looking child and backed out of the room.
It wasn’t for lack of trying to be a good mother. My maternal model was auntie mame, she loved children once they were old enough to make her a dry martini. Fortunately those were the days, in the south, when most families who could afford paying a maid 50c an hour, had someone in the house to pick up the slack. And we had nez, saint of saints, who taught me how to wash my hair and wipe my bottom, came to every mayday extravaganza at my little school and stood outside the fence with all of the other maids to watch. Saw dust on the playground, mist provided by dry ice, I think it was always variations on the theme of fairies, wearing gold spray painted ballet shoes and goofy streaming costumes, we whirled around for awhile and then went home.
So I decided I would be uber mother, into every activity, classroom mother (why were there never classroom fathers?), girl scout leader, yada yada. And for what, all albatross wanted was to shove me off the nearest cliff. She stopped going to school, but because we were “enlightened” (give us a break, it was the seventies) parents, we signed a contract (as opposed to giving her the keys to a bmw as is done now) with her that if she chose not to go to school she could come to my office and file stuff. Well that lasted about 2 days, I guess we could have sued her for breach of contract, but frankly we wanted to deal with her about as much as she wanted to deal with us. The kicker was when she stole my credit card, bought a complete set of samsonite and went to the airport with her partner in crime, meanie, to buy two one way tickets to LA (we lived in Seattle then). Fortunately the airline agent suspected something just might be amiss when two fifteen year old girls dressed like madonna showed up with a credit card in someone else’s name. So we got a phone call and schelped off to the airport to haul in the miscreants. It was downhill from there.
We tried “family therapy.” The first thing the therapist asked was, who do you think has all the power in this family. Holy mother of pearl, obviously the sulking teen in the corner with her arms crossed giving us all the stink eye. Was that really supposed to be a serious question? WE KNOW WHO HAS ALL THE GODDAM POWER YOU CRETIN, THE QUESTION IS HOW DO WE GET IT BACK. After numerous sessions which only reinforced albatross’s control but also made the rest of us feel like shit, including the therapist, we gave up.
We moved away from seattle, but of course, albatross had no intention of remaining part of the family unit. She never got a high school diploma but we coached her through the ged exam which she passed by a very slim margin, got her an apartment, enrolled her in the community college cosmetology program, not to be confused with the cosmology program. bought her all of the course requirements: styrofoam heads, curlers, wigs, combs, brushes, etc. and hit the road for new orleans. She didn’t last a week, she withdrew, pocketed our tuition payment, returned her professional equipment to sally’s beauty supply, and abandoned her dreams of being a stylist to the stars.
You can’t say we didn’t give it the old school try. But albatross wanted to find her own meaning in life. Her destiny! So, how’d that work out you might wonder…all will be revealed. This is ample material to make you run to find your prilosec and perhaps count your lucky stars.
my jaundiced eye 