Joel and I come from a weird amalgamation of backgrounds. His is that of favored son to a Pentecostal preacher and father of nine (eight boys, one girl) who was also a Coast Guard veteran and lower-middle class product from Pittsburgh. In other words, he loved the Lord and cussed like the sailor he used to be, and Joel's mom fit right in that dynamic. Add that to a mid-teen move from blue-collar Northeast big city to Florida Keys fading hippiedom, and you've got a recipe for an identity crisis. Or, if you're Joel, an excuse to take all those worlds and shove them into one inimitable package of self with no apology.
I, on the other hand, am the daughter of a recovering alcoholic from suburban Southern California and a woman raised in rural North Carolina who met in the mountains of East Tennessee. I've lived all over the country, above and below the Mason-Dixon line, and visited a few places outside the U.S. This has definitely affected my standards. Plus, there's the additional fact that in the culture of alcoholism recovery, keeping up appearances and limiting introspection have a serious stigma, since in our dynamic those things can lead to relapse and death. That doesn't mean we don't try, but it does mean that eventually, after pursuing mental, emotional and spiritual health for long enough, we usually give up on that whole "polite fiction" thing and just let it all hang out, and woe to the person who dares be uncomfortable about that because we'll do some pre-emptive self-disclosure strikes just to see you squirm. Also because we have rejection issues.
All that to say, Joel and I don't have the same standards for childish behavior that most people around us do. I'd like to think it's because we've realized the relative nature of expectations based on geography and culture, but really it's because we think it's fine when our kids talk to us the way we talk to each other. Also because it's darned funny to hear a 3-year-old mutter, "Crap," when her shoe falls off.
Nothing drove this home better than the other night, when Teeny woke up just enough to roll over in bed and demand a drink. "No," I told her, "go back to sleep." (Side note: she wasn't thirsty. She just automatically wants us to fetch and carry every time her eyes crack open, which is cute but annoying on nights like this when she wakes at fifteen-minute intervals.) She lay there in silence for a moment, then muttered, "D'ink." "No."
The baby blues flew open, fixed me with an accusatory glare, and the cherub face crumpled. "AWWW, C'MON!" she demanded in exasperation. "Why NOT?!"
I burst into gales of laughter and left it to Joel to explain that she could wait for a while and to go back to sleep.
It's just early days yet. I have no forecast but for worsening in the snark as days go by; after all, Bishop's heading toward the teen years full steam ahead and that age group has made an art form of snide. Wooster's sense of humor tends to take the form of pranks (something she definitely gets from her father's side of the family) but her brother is developing into Mr. Smarty-Pants in his own right.
"Oh, man," I said today at lunch. "I forgot to call Gretchen back."
"Yeah, you need to do that," Joel offered (un)helpfully.
"You probably forgot because you were too busy watching episodes of
Legend of the Seeker," Bishop muttered.
I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was actually serious, then caught the flash of the dimple in his right cheek. Then I started hooting with laughter. That's my boy. Bring on the 'tween.
Comments (2)
Hello Mrs. Jocelyn,
You made your site simple yet elegant. I see that you have a wide variety of personal observations here!
I like to write articles about Jehovah God on my site to help people to really get to know Him and His plans for us, especially in these troubled times. "The land is swollen with murder. The city is bloated with injustice. They all say, 'God has forsaken the country. He doesn't see anything we do.' Well, I do see, and I'm not feeling sorry for any of them. They're going to pay for what they've done." (Ezekiel 9:9-10) (The Message)
I love this blog Jocee!! SO entertaining...and so well-written. It is just a joy to read your stuff!