Where to begin? What to even share? As you know by now, I’m not one to get too heavy. It’s not that I don’t like to bear my soul and share my moments of deep reflection or sorrow with you. I am not afraid to be vulnerable or to expose myself to you. (Steady!) I have no shame. I’m not even afraid to walk down the street with my butt-floss knickers hiked well above the waist band of my jeans. But, I choose not to share stuff that brings me down. For however long it takes me to pen an entry, I’m a writer. An entertainer. A humorist. This girl just wants to have fu-un, and she wants you to have fu-un with her.
Alas, I was just in Chicago for Bubby’s funeral, and my fun-tank is low. The flight alone was enough to send me into a mega-funk. Newark. No additional words are necessary if you’ve ever had to travel in and out of Newark...to and from Chicago...in the middle of winter. Even though the flight was delayed for 3 hours after I checked in and even though we sat for an additional hour on the tarmac once we boarded, I tried to convince myself that every minute spent travelling without my children was a gift.
There was one unfortunate trip we took with Asher when he was 3 (and 3 is the new 2, you know). He was so out of his mind tired after hours of delays on a cross-country trip that half-way through the flight he began to shriek. A lot. And wouldn’t stop. And wouldn’t stop. And wouldn’t stop. Until. Until David Banner got a little too angry and The Incredible Hulk exploded out of his Gymboree blue, green and white train-themed ensemble, roared a mighty roar and grabbed the portable DVD player that was no longer amusing him and chucked it in to the aisle of the plane with the force of a thousand pre-schoolers-in super slow-mo, of course. He killed it.
After 4 hours of travel time out of Newark, I’m ready to grab the person’s laptop next to me and chuck it into the aisle, too. I would never sacrifice my own laptop. First of all, I didn’t bring my laptop. Secondly, the difference between small children and grown-ups is that millisecond of assessment before destruction of personal property. I wouldn’t have thrown mine...unless of course I was unable to repress the MacBook envy that metastasizes inside of me every day until my PC somehow found its way to the floor. Does the word “MacBook” register as misspelled on a Mac as it does on Microsoft Word?
I was alone with my book, and that should have been a pleasure. It was the man seated next to me that ruined my flight. After hours stuck on a plane, most passengers get around to exchanging pleasantries with the person sharing that inhumane feed-lot of a space. He volunteered that he was originally from Ann Arbor, but his job transferred him and his wife and 2 kids to Naperville. He works with a consultancy firm that guides companies through the procurement and implementation of software systems...or something. “What do you do?” he asked. I told him I was at home with the children. “That’s the most important job there is.” When a guy under 60 feeds you that line, you have to factor context and tone before deciding whether the statement is coming from a sincere person who loves his mother or an absolute tit. This guy was an absolute tit.
AT (ABSOLUTE TIT): What does your husband do?
D: My partner -SHE- is in technology.
AT: Oh! Wait, didn’t you say you had kids?
D: Yes.
AT: So, did you adopt?
D: No. That’s awfully personal, don’t you think?
AT: What? In this day and age? It’s not a secret is it? Do you know the father?
D: The donor? No, but I think that this is really personal. How about you? Don’t you think you should share something equally personal about your life? Have you ever cheated on your wife?
AT: No.
I opened my book and vowed not to look at this guy again. Obviously, Absolute Tit didn’t feel that Pride and Prejudice was worth my time and he interrupted me with, “Sperm bank, huh? Did it take you a long time to get pregnant?”
D: Really? I’m not answering that question.
At that point, I realized that I had to commit to Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy for the duration so as not to give Absolute Tit even a hint of a window. Don’t think me high-brow in my choice of literature. It’s a book club selection. True to his name, Absolute Tit interrupted once again minutes later. “Do you have the time?” He was looking for a way back in. I showed him my watch without making eye contact, and finally Absolute Tit got the message and addressed me no more. I’ve become too comfortable in my little village where the population consists of civilized people of various backgrounds who comprehend boundaries. I need to collect some comebacks for the simpletons in the world who think that it's ok to ask a lesbian how she makes babies. Suggestions welcome.
The funeral story is material for the memoir-not the blog. Suffice it to say that my brother, sister and I were happy to see the other side of it given that our parents refuse to acknowledge any of us as their children. We did manage to make each other laugh and we did hold each other close when we let our guards down long enough to be comforted. I am grateful to my siblings, their spouses and the extended family that nurtured us throughout our visit and is a source of great strength and love.
The plane to Newark landed at 12AM--3 hours late. I had a middle seat in the back of the plane, and I made sure not to make eye contact with either passenger beside me. I’m so happy to be home with Gabriella and the boys. Tired emotionally and physically. Need to find my happy place. Hoping that a good night sleep will get me there. I know my little family will help get me there, too.
9 comments:
Love your writing style. DOn't get too upset with people who are stupid. It is our job to help inform them so maybe they will be a bit less stupid!!
Sorry for your loss. It just sucks.
So if it happens again (and it will), ask the unevolved person how they make babies.
So sorry to hear about Bubby! And, that sounds awful being trapped on a plane next to that idiot!!
To be fair....it's patently obvious how heterosexuals make babies, but homosexual couples have hurdles that make it reasonable someone would have the question, "Hmm, I wonder how they did it." I have this question all the time. For lesbian couples, is the father a friend or an unknown donor? If a friend, is he part of the kids' lives? For gay couples (who have a much harder hurdle), did they adopt? Partner with a lesbian couple (genetically) (I read an article about two couples who went this route)? These questions aren't insensitivity, they're curiosity. And I'll ask them of semi-strangers on a plane if our conversation has gotten personal enough to do so.
I have these same kinds questions about people who are missing an arm, or people who are blind, or people who used to live in communist Romania. It's different, and I wonder how they do / epxerience / see /value things the rest of us take for granted.
That said, it sounds like AT was a jackass, and your conversation clearly wasn't that personal when he asked. And you made it clear you didn't want it to be that personal, and he kept going. So I completely get your annoyance.
I take your point, Kisa. I do try to consider the source when questions are posed. You'll have to take my word that this guy was not at all respectful or pleasant in his delivery and, therefore, I took offense. More often than not, I am happy to field such questions when the inquiry is coming from a respectful place.
That being said, I must also point out that heterosexulas may experience hurdles, too. Adoption, infertility, surrogacy, still births-all issues which can make the subject of baby-making a sensitive one.
We have much to learn from each other, it's true. I hope I didn't imply that I am unwilling to share. I'm sure if any of you had been next to me, we would have had enjoyed sharing all sorts of experiences. And I NEVER would have finished "Pride and Prejudice"!
Because I was curious, while still reading your blog I opened up Pages on my MacBook to see if it realised that 'MacBook' was indeed a word that is spelled correctly.
It does :)
I once had a guy ask me, "So where did you get Miguel?" Miguel is my eldest. I was like, "Well, my partner is Portuguese and we wanted a name that worked in both languages so..." He interrupted to say, "No, where did you get HIM?" Really. My life is an open book but, dang, why do stupid people want to read it.
Indeed, Deborah, if I'd been sitting next to you, you'd know more about my life than you probably want to ;-). I certainly didn't think you were unwilling to share; I just wanted to inject a little "other side" POV to .... deflate? defuse? de...? ... in case this was headed toward "all heteros are rude and insensitive oglers" kind of thing. Not that you seem to be prone to that kind of pigeonholing....but "all X are Y" stereotypes or hints thereof generally push my button, forcing me to spew counterexamples left and right. ;-)
You're right, of course, about hetero couples and babymaking hurdles. Our close-friends group runs the gamut on that one. Fortunately we can all talk about it all with each other, even joke about it. (One friend jokes about pulling her chair closer to mine so some of my "I get pregnant if my husband even looks at me" juju will rub off on her ;-). And I tell you, she can totally have it. At 42 I will EXPLODE if we have another unplanned pregnancy.)
Our new neighbors have clearly adopted their three children (different skin tones), and I was euphoric today when she stopped by and was totally open about it all, even making jokes. Whew! Because I'm a seriously open-about-personal-things kind of person, and I'd have had to really work on it not to offend her if she was touchy about the adoptions.
I'm tired, I'm rambling....hope your thumb is better very soon, and the Vicodin keeps you happy until then. :-)
Kisa, I love reading your POVs, and I hope I push your buttons more often-in a friendly, platonic way, of course. Respect and humor - the perfect formula for discussing just about anything. Agreed!
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