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Because I can't bear to eulogize Doug - 2008-08-19
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3:19 p.m. - 2005-01-07
Countdown to arrival of Alex’s Light of Life: T-28 hours. The kitchen floor is awash with boot slop. I have no idea where the guest pillows went to. The front porch is going to be a cover story in Shantytown Monthly, crappola to the ceiling and judging from the smell at least one carefully hidden pile of cat poop. We’re out of milk, eggs, bread, and soda. The new radiator is installed in my bathroom, but the house reeks of burnt copper and ceramic epoxy. Wolf’s bedroom floor is covered in a fine layer of fish food flakes. Overflowing garbage cans in every room and the upstairs bathroom sink is clogged. But I got a spiff haircut this morning and my eyebrows are freshly waxed. I’m ready. Alex is most amused. He says LoL is upstate running in demented circles, changing outfits and hair colors, waxing her eyebrows, fretting over chipped polish and furry shins, and generally freaking out. He wants to know what the Big Deal is and why eyebrows are so important. Silly boy. The Big Deal is that the two most important women in his life are meeting for the first time. Duh. In Girl World it doesn’t get any scarier than that. Good eyebrows are essential. LoL is especially frightened. I am no mother to be gotten around as quickly as possible, a mother the son ducks out on and ridicules behind her back, Alex and I are friends. My opinion matters. Also she is working under a regional handicap, basic Upstate Inferiority Complex. Alex has not helped things, he’s told her what a fashionista I am. A classic Hick meets Chic scenario. To upstaters like LoL, anyone from the City and its near environs is bound to be hip, catty, and sophisticated. (Just between us, I’ll cop to all three.) So of course she is freaking out. I, on the other hand, am mostly concerned that I don’t scare her too much. I know I am scary. I try not be, but I am anyhow. Poor Alex should never ever be the monkey in the middle between his girl and his mom. I love my boy too much to be unpleasant to his girlfriend. Even if she dresses badly and has slut eyebrows. I kid. I kid. Of course I’ll quash their relationship if she’s a style-less dork. No, seriously. My son loves this girl. I love my son. Ergo any girl he brings home will find a friend in me. I’m just focusing on silly stuff because I want everything to go well for Alex’s sake and am taking all my nervous energy and being goofy with it. You know, this kind of hacks me off. I’m an over-thinker, but mostly I cruised through Momhood. Natural vs Drugs. Circumcision. When to start solids. Pre-school. Potty training. All the supposed momentous decisions which will make or break your kid, none of them upset me. I did what felt right and moved forward. This! This I wasn’t prepared for. I do not know how to be the mom of a grown-up. Nobody has written What To Expect When Your Kid is 20 and In Love. If only Alex had colic instead. Colic I could handle. Rats, ~LA
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