Townie Girl's daughter (and only biological child--she has a stepdaughter about D's age with whom she is very close) turns nine today. This nine year old is getting $130 Ugg boots, half of which are being paid for by her grandmother. Far be it for me to criticize a love of expensive shoes being instilled early, but I tend to think $130 boots belong on feet which have, y'know, stopped growing. And then I think of the $120 (in 1998 dollars, yet) Nikes my kid wore when he was 12 or so and I tell my brain to shut the fuck up. But, anyway, these expensive boots are not to be Townie Girl Jr's biggest and best birthday present. No. Townie Girl Jr is, like every other nine year old girl in America--or so I hear--enamored of one Justin Bieber. Guess who is playing at the Fleet/Banknorth/TD/Boston/Center/wtf/Garden tonight?!?
Townie Girl, in an absolute masterpiece of stealth, planning, and discretion, bought the tickets to this "concert" back around July and has successfully kept it a secret from her kiddo from now till then. I do not know at what point Townie Girl Jr is going to be informed of how she will be spending her birthday evening--hopefully before boarding the commuter rail, I'd think--but as of yesterday she didn't yet know. If it is possible for a tweenager to die of joy, you'll be reading about this in tomorrow's paper I'm sure.
Yesterday Townie Girl asked for the assistance of my awesome google-fu to help her find whether there was going to be an opening act, so as to plan what time they actually would arrive. (While we were dicking around unsuccessfully trying to find this info on the interwebs, Led Zep Girl called the venue and got the answer. God, that's so last millennium.) But, anyway, this led me to telling Townie Girl that she's a good mom. I know this is coming from a place of absolute love and generosity and a desire to make her kid the happiest child on the planet. But I dunno. Where do you go from there? Is this the kind of thing that makes someone look back with complete happiness and fondness and think "my parents really loved me" or is it the kind of thing that sets up an (unobtainable) expectation of some kind of unbelievably awesome surprise for every birthday or every occasion? I mean I'd still go with the former, because it *is* the best surprise a little girl could have, but nine is kind of young to have any perspective.
Meanwhile, I think this is the sort of thing that makes unenlightened people grouse about only children being overindulged and thus selfish. I have always called bullshit on that. As you know, I am an only child who was smothered with love and attention and I am less selfish than a lot of people. (We won't go into what neuroses it did engender, but selfishness wasn't one of them, thanks.) My son, another spoiled only child, has grown up into a very generous and, within the limits of his gender***, thoughtful person. So, yeah, bullshit. You can't make a kid feel *too* loved in their formative years.
And, finally, in a totally unrelated note, and at the risk of breaking my promise to be all done with the baseball talk till spring, did you see who the two Rookies of the Year were? Mr Buster Posey and Mr Neftali Feliz. I will point out that our Mr Barma had both of these gentlemen on his fantasy roster. Which begs the question of why the fuck *he* doesn't have Theo's job. Because I'm becoming totally convinced someone other than Theo should.
Ok! Philosophy and baseball talk ovah, bitches! Happy Bieber Day!
xoxo
I forgot the goddamned footnote again. Oh, perimenopause, I lurve you.
Footnote is supposed to say:
***So, remember how I told y'all that my dad insisted on doing dishes even though he couldn't see any more and thus I'd end up with unwashed plates in the cupboard and how it was a battle to wash them before he could and how it made him sulk and feel sad? Yeah. Well, since his passing, I have become aware that even the horrible job he did, the times he managed to do it despite me, was some sort of help, 'cause I've been feeling like there are always dirty dishes and I'm constantly doing them. A few weeks ago, I asked D if he would put away the clean dishes during his nocturnal waking hours. He did, and it felt like a big help to not have to put away clean dishes in order to do the dirty ones.
Okay, so I got in the habit of asking him to do this, and he would do it readily. But if I didn't ask, he wouldn't. So one day I pointed this out, laughing. I was like, "What? You put the dishes away for your mother if she asks but you don't if she doesn't, huh? It doesn't occur to you that, 'oh, my poor mom, she works so hard, I should put those dishes away so she doesn't have to do it!'" And ever since then, I've woken up every morning and it is done. And we are both happy. There's some kind of thoughtfulness block about this kind of thing on the Y chromosome, I'm positive. No offense, guys.
4 comments:
Regarding "thoughtfulness blocks", my experience has been that "appreciation blocks" can also contribute. For one relevant example, my ex would always likewise feel frustrated (overworked, exhausted, etc.) to find the dishwasher not loaded and/or emptied, and so she never hesitated to express such in terms of her frustration. Years of (ultimately failed) therapy and marital counseling later, it was pointed out to me that there's a coincident feeling of being loved that done-dishes can impart to those coincidentally experiencing and expressing the frustration emotion. But who knew??? I only got the "undone chore" version of things, delivered in what my broken chromosomal shortcomings could only parse in terms of a nag, not a nurture.
The irony is/was that the moment I understood the "feeling love" part of the transaction, I LOVED loading and emptying the dishwasher, and never missed another opportunity to curry favor with whom I loved. The problem is/was that she could only interpret such as a naked ploy to curry favor and influence the judge, and we were right back to square zero.
I'm glad that you and D are getting it figured out while it's all still positive. We really do enjoy to please, even while we're enjoying getting it all our own way, too.
Yeah, that's what I mean. Those of you male-type people who really *are* thoughtful and *do* want to make the wimmins in your life happy *still* might need just a bit of gentle direction as to how, 'cause while it might seem obvious to *us* what we need help with, it may not be obvious to you. Through no fault of your own! There's no reason for it to devolve into conflict when there are good intentions on everyone's part.
OTOH, there are plenty of people, male and female, who aren't thoughtful in any way and have no desire to make anyone else's life easier or more pleasant, which is a whole nother thing altogether.
But how about that Justin Bieber?!? hahaha
Since the gender roles around here are usually kind of screwed up, I'll skip to the Bieber present, only children etc.
We did spring for a few really special occasion kid concert-y things when my kid was young. She's mostly forgotten them. But the year she graduated from college, she gave me a hand-made Fathers Day card that listed all the small things that we'd done together that were her treasured memories from childhood. If Townie Girl doesn't forget to lay up the small treasures, the concert won't do any harm.
My only child has grown up to be exceptionally unselfish and kind. I'd credited day care (a surrogate big family) with some of this. You remind me to give her own nature a lot of the credit.
Dude. *You're* a very kind individual. Don't be discounting your own contribution. :-)
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