April 2004--Journal Entry
My young son sits next to me. We are driving to a birthday party south of town. We are talking about things--I don't know what--at some point he apologizes for making his Dad angry. Funny that he apologizes to me; its like he did it to see if the apology was acceptable, so he would know then that he could try it out on his Dad. Or maybe he thought I could forgive him by proxy?
On any account, I'm not really listening to him until he says "Chris and Jay are so rich. So their moms hang out all the time." I answer back " It's because they feel comfortable." In that one statement I excuse the two women's flocking behavior. I forgive them their excesses of togetherness. Jay's mother, Georgia, is the wife of a doctor and constantly at our sons' private elementary school. My son calls her a "school mom." Although she is pleasant to me it has been clear since the first time Jay came to our condo that she needed to forgive ME for my modest way of living. Chris' mother's name is unknown to me, but her round angelic face is always in an arms length of Georgia. So there we were at the birthday party, forgiving each other of our economic disparity.
Georgia's house has an uncomplicated wealth about it. She knows exactly what she wants: old, new, simple, glittery, established and suburban. I don't know what to do with this kind of person. So when I drop off Adam at the party I don't stay with the other moms try to eek out a spot in the pecking order. I leave for a book store and a solitary fiesta of nail biting.
I think about how I should have had Adam's hair cut, how he could have worn nicer pants. I'm glad I didn't make him change clothes. He should know that he is fine how he is on any given day; tousled with pants too short, parents in a little house so he can go to private school. The little house part is on one hand noble, but begs the question...why does Jay get to have it all? Why does Jay's family not need to make any sacrifices to send him to an expensive school? The answers to that go back 35 years to my original family. Its a good thing Adam hasn't really asked this question, but its only a matter of time before he understands that my parents were too young when they had me and that I didn't grow up so well (because my Dad was too crushed by his own upbringing and my Mom so eager to be an Adult.) They had interlocking neurosis that fit together like the child proof cap on a bottle of Drain-O. They produced me, and then weren't really there while I grew up. Bodies resembling my parents wobble in and out of memories, but like ghosts; their hands would touch me and I would never feel a thing. My Dad would neglect me out of some possibility that he would damage me. Mom invaded my privacy and psyche with her unending emotional needs.
I have turned out terrified. Insecure, overcompensating, underachieving, manic-depressive and a worrier. Most of the time I'm not much to look at. On a positive note, I am stubborn, flexible, forgiving, reasonable, rational, tidy and affectionate. How then did this result in a small house, small bank account and my perfecting of the Economic Arts of the Home? I could not explain to anyone, much less Adam, that choices make our environment, but that sometimes there are so many things that are decided for us that choices don't matter. I would never want to take anything from Georgia. The woman is as sweet as a glass of tea in Biloxi. How her family thrives financially is the direct result of how she was raised, and her ability...her drive, to earn an MRS at Standford. Some of us don't even know that we are supposed to looking for a compatible mate to live in joy and dignity with, and instead we end up with someone by blind chance that will look us in the eye for more than ten seconds. I suppose the choice of breadwinner for my children was a sentimental one and not quite calculating enough, economically speaking. I stand by my decision. I hope the kids understand when they are older.
The birthday party was amazing I hear. There was a man that made balloon animals and told jokes, and enough cake and hamburgers to feed a small town.
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