Friday, February 2, 2007
Meredith Vieira drink with me! Our Kids are busting out the Barbies!
More and more I wonder have I become an anachronism. Cocktails and dishing with my friends both mommy and non-mommy are the only things that actually get me through the endless winter whining days of my precariously unbalanced life.
This method of coping with mommy madness has been passed down within the mothering genes of my family. Both of my grandmothers* mothered all of their children with a dark colored liquor in hand. These women were smart well-educated and living in a time when you had to face girdles and white gloves everyday prior to passing through the front door of your home. Hell, I would have to have at least two good shots of Jaeger and maybe a valium (from my dead dog’s stash which I have saved specifically for uterine induced mental breakdowns) prior to squeezing my fat baby producing ass into an elastic vice grip. At that time society knew the value of the cocktail hour and quite frankly so many of today’s “right wing, anti-alcohol” mommies and daddies proudly tout that our society needs to get back to those “Leave it to Beaver Family Values.” Hey, I’m all for having a couple highballs with June and Walt, especially if I can flirt with that young good-looking Wally,
My own Mother, who raised all of us to be good contributing citizens, was often photographed in a bikini with a baby on one hip and a big bottle of vino in the other hand. There have been many times that I have wished to be half the mother she was to all of us. She was the Mommy who would load up her 1979 Navy Blue Land yacht Buick with a dozen kids (who needs seatbelts when you’re surrounded with luxurious plush velour seating!?!) and set-out for educational field trips most every weekend. On many of these excursions the mommies would monitor our learning adventure with bloody mary in hand. (by the way a Bloody Mary is only 1 point on Weight Watchers and really helped me get that last 20 pounds off)
Now me, I had a baby late in life, struggle with marriage, work full-time, volunteer in the community, and my husband wants me to look like a friggin’ Skipper Doll (he likes the petite perfect toys) so I really really need some time to unwind with a glass of wine. If the non-drinking mommies frown on this, well I would like a chance to visit their medicine cabinets to find their secret little helpers. My stepmother, who is a Southern Baptist (drinkin’ and dancin’ pave the highway to hell) never, drank in front of her two sons – fast forward 18 years to 2005 when they each receive personalized
Don’t we have enough to worry about these days from global warming to school shootings – I mean REALLY, is the 1-2 glasses of wine at a cocktail play date newsworthy enough that Meredith needs to segment it on the Today Show. I’ve taped it (another anachronism) so that I can invite my friends over to watch it while we listen to the sounds of our children pummeling each other with Barbies and Legos upstairs and we sip our
Sidenote: *My maternal grandmother is former flapper, college student in 1929 and manager of Auto Parts and Tools business was the mother of three: oldest is a lesbian and dance costume designer, middle son petroleum engineer with the Peter Pan complex, and the youngest is a psychometrist who I am proud to call Mama. Paternal grandmother a deep south socialite who also had three children: oldest ass-kicking fun aunt who is paid to throw parties at country clubs, middle son (my dad) former member of the LA State Senate who was impeached for sexual misconduct in 2004 and the youngest, very beautiful but always slightly stoned on who knows what drug well-heeled dilettante.
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