taking the passive out of passive-aggressive

Sunday, June 26, 2005

So, I hit the Rock n Romp yesterday, towing the Bee, the Panda, and the Panda's BFF from school. The Panda and her friend wanted nothing to do with me, being as it was a ROCK SHOW and clearly I do not ROCK at all. On the way over, Amanda kept telling me that Nick Drake SO does not ROCK and neither does that one Shins song, and that its lack of rockin'ness was bothering the baby, who does, according to the Panda, rock.

Needless to say, the two of them played it very cool, staying away from toddlers, hanging out by the swings looking aloof. And Bee dug the whole thing, clapping her hands and stomping her big legs and eating ice out of the keg bucket. (Which I let her do without guilt until some dad came up and admonished his son for doing the same thing. Suddenly I felt quite remiss and lamely said "Um, well, I'm just letting her do that so she can build up her immunities." He was cool about it but I suspect behind my back he's like "Did you see that SINGLE MOM with that I HEART NERDS t-shirt? Yeah, what a bad mom!" Or maybe guys don't actually do that kind of thing.)

Anyway. It was my first foray into the world as a Single Mom and it felt weird, all these people who are married and talk about their spouses/sig others in this way that I know I talked about mine not too long ago--a comfortable way, as though their spouses were old couches they still liked, despite their sprung cushions.

Afterwards I brought the Bee back home (Panda was having a sleepover) and I thought What have I done? This is so strange. My whole life, my whole supposed purpose, gone. And yet my house when I came home was so very much mine, my time was mine, my choices mine alone. No one to stress me out, because the children never really do. It was never motherhood that bugged me, as it turns out. And what a strange thing to realize--that I lived for over ten years under a delusion, a facade of a building we'd built together but never really lived in. We lived out back, in separate little shacks we made from twigs and bark.

He came over tonight for dinner to see the kids and you know, he's like a friend I'm fond of but never really knew that well. And that explains so much. It explains everything. I wonder how many other people live lives like mine and don't even know it?

3 Comments:

At 9:42 AM, Blogger XLT said...

That dude was sent on a mission; no guy *really* worries that much about keg ice.

 
At 12:43 PM, Blogger sweetney said...

dude, you are officially hereby allowed to let your kids eat keg ice in my backyard ANY TIME. and if in the future anyone tries to give you a hard time about anything at MY HOME i'm gonna pull some karate-type shizzle on em'.

oh, and that shirt ROCKED. and the elder claire-spawn needs to learn a little something about the radness of the shins... feel free to bring her by for indoctrination anytime...we're always here for your brainwashing-related needs...

 
At 4:36 PM, Blogger Prom said...

You wonder how many....

I think lots and lots. Take a look at the couples you know. How many still touch each other when they talk to each other. How many smile and catch the other's eye?

 

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