Who’s your Momma?
If you haven’t done it already, please go click on the ‘Momlogic Vote For Me’ button located on the right side of the screen and vote for CoupleDumb. Lee is a finalist as the Mother of all Bloggers. If she doesn’t win, she will be insufferable but such is life living with a mother.
Lee says: I remember the day we met Jeannie. I saw her there all grey and limp. Paul reacted immediately with tears and claims that she was his baby and I became ultra-clinical and started doing simple development testing on her. In retrospect, we were both in shock.
I realize now that I was being a mother. It became my job early on to fight for my daughter; whether it was for her very survival or for services. Jeannie has special needs and we were told at the age of 7 months she would be blind, deaf, retarded and dead by the age of 2. Jeannie is now 16, attending a magnet school, finishing her sophomore year, taking honors courses and preparing for her junior year and 3 AP courses. Yes, her vision is compromised and so is her hearing but the rest of the prognosis was up to us.
As a mother, I see my job as the planner. I spend some time every week managing our calendar, making sure the kids have what they need and planning for the future. I am a manager without the commission. In most cases, the family just shows up and enjoys or participates in the activity whether it is a doctor’s visit, vacation, pleasant outing or meeting. It’s never a dull moment.
As a child, I remember my mother doing the same but in a more seamless manner. My mother owned and operated a factory while I was growing up. My mother was at work before I even started school in the morning. She would come home to supervise dinner and then would either watch TV or talk on the phone while smoking long into the night. She was a drill sergeant and her word was law. My sister and I would monitor her moods and warn each other if we sensed she was ‘on the rampage’. She was not affectionate but extremely efficient. No wire hangers but very disciplined.
When we were sick, she would be there making us soup and giving us our clear liquids. I remember often feeling her hand on my forehead very late at night. She was great company when my insomnia kicked in which was most nights. She was a fierce lioness when she felt her kids were in danger but would serve us up on toast if we were the culprits. She taught us to be quick in the kitchen and to be the center of attention at a party. She gave us rhythm and lunacy. She was the mystery I needed to solve as a child and now as an adult I see the answers very simply.
She was the product of her world like I am. She married young, watched the magic of her country crumble under the toxic grip of communism. She had to flee her world, with a little child, to the unknown. She came to this country without knowledge of the language and custom and was treated with the same regard we treat all outsiders. Her constant fear turned to anger and she made this country her bitch and my parents became successful. Did it affect her ability to parent? Definitely.
My mother is older now and she has mellowed with age. She discovered she could be affectionate and vulnerable in her late 40s so she showers our kids with that love. I often wonder if the mean streets of the South Bay of L.A. County left there mark on me like Cuba did on her. I guess I’ll have to wait until my kids start their blogs to find out.
Paul says: What do you mean ‘manager without a commission’? These rug rats better being buying daddy a house with an authentic Star Trek command chair.