Moms and Wine and Laughter
Which leaves my mother. In the car ride on the way home, Yogamom and I got to chit-chatting about life, about our families, about anything and everything, as we do. Earlier in the evening I had mentioned that Coffeeguy had decided I should tell my mother about his cross-dressing, especially so that if the kids needed to talk about it they wouldn't be giving something away that they would have to feel bad about. My mother took it in stride, and my friends were not only full of praise for her, but they were devoid of surprise. "Good for her!" said Bookgirl. "I think your Mom would support anyone in her family, though," Yogamom had added thoughtfully. In the car on the ride home, she clarified this. "She supports you in every way. I think that when Coffeeguy married you, he became an extension of you. So she becomes as protective of him as of you."
When I was three my brothers left the gate open and I got hit by a car, shattering my femur. From that moment on, my relationship with my mother changed. She had become my protector, and the closest person to me. I didn't fight with my Mom as most teens do, and I actually enjoyed hanging out with her--we had moved a few times, and to make up for my lack of friends she had filled my life with trips to the movies, shopping, card games, etc. I lived a pretty sheltered life, and compared to a lot of kids my age I was "over-protected." I didn't go to the crazy parties, or hang out with the smoking kids, or even steal the occasional alcoholic drink. I did learn how to wash the dishes, and use the washing machine, and how to have an incredible work ethic--God, my mother worked hard. I also learned something that has made me who I am today. I am the mother in the Rainbow Family because of my mother. She has always, always, always championed her loved ones. She might complain to my brother that I didn't come over that week or that my brother is messy or my oldest brother hasn't called. But Heaven help you if you say one word against her children or grandchildren. She holds us tightly--sometimes I used to think too tightly--but as the years go by and my view of her changes from the vigorous matriarch of the family to the 68 year old with a bad heart and high blood pressure, so too does my understanding of her need to hold on. (I even find myself envying the secret candy stash she has for Punkgirl, of that little memory they're making together.) Most importantly, she sees the wonderful in us. She sees the potential. And when you tell her your husband and son are crossdressers, and your daughter is a lesbian, she joins Glaad, PFLAG, and Glsen.
I am not sure whether to hope or dread that my children are as influenced by their mother as the three women who had dinner, wine, and laughs last Saturday night. I guess I should hope instead that they are influenced in the right direction--that my failures will make them strive for better and that my successes will stick with them forever. Above all, I hope they find the friends who are like them, who have taken the good and the bad and made a life with lots of dinner, and wine, and laughter.
www.suckathomemom.blogspot.com I'm a 40 something year old with two tweens and a new baby. This is my effort to keep my sanity after leaving the workforce, taking up breastfeeding, and managing the kids. I'm mostly failing at it.