Category: Motherhood

Mommy Moment: The Bread

When Y-Chromo came home for the summer after his first year at college, there were many adjustments that needed to be made. We had to learn that he’d been on his own for 9-10 months and needed more leeway than he’d been given in high school. He needed to adjust to being in a family situation again.

While he was away at school, I didn’t have to buy as much bread for sandwiches as  I did in previous years. His first weekend home, we were nearly out. He informed me he would eat only Supermarket brand bread, if I couldn’t get Supermarket brand peanut butter, he would eat only a certain national brand. He missed Supermarket brand bread while at college.

I was very busy that weekend and did not have time to go to the Supermarket he specified. There is another grocery chain with a store closer to home. In the interest of time, that’s where I went to pick up a few crucial items. Including bread. When I got home, I transferred the loaf of bread into the Supermarket brand bag and stuck it in the freezer. Y never knew the difference.

I think X-Chromo recently told him the story. (She thought it was hysterical when I confessed it to her years later.) He laughs about it now.

Sometimes a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.

 

 

Movie: Frozen River

I never would have seen Frozen River had it not been nominated for an Academy Award in 2008. I’ve seen it only once (TV Stevie sees every nominated film he can, and I happened to catch this one with him), but the images and messages have stayed with me. The film was nominated for Best Actress and Best Original Screenplay. It won several other awards, mostly for Best Actress.

I never realized the underlying story until I overheard a TV program my husband was watching about female directors. Frozen River  was mentioned as being a film about motherhood. When I heard that, all the images came crystal clear.

Mexico isn’t the only point of entry for undocumented immigrants. When the St. Lawrence River freezes, it becomes a smuggler’s route between New York State and Ontario/Quebec–especially since the Akwesasne nation (St. Regis Mohawk tribal land) straddles the river between the two other countries.

Two single mothers–one white, one Native American–both desperately poor, want better lives for their children.  They live on the New York side of the Frozen River. This unlikely pair team up  with disastrous consequences. There is a happy ending, just not in the traditional sense.  The film ends on a note of hope. Yes, their partnership brought dire consequences, but in the end, the same partnership will help them create the better lives they want for their children.

The movie is dark. Grim. Yet as a mother, I identify with their anguish.  We will do anything for our children.

 

 

Mommy Files: Learning the Language

One of the best things about being the mom of very young children was observing them learning the language. Figuring out how to use words when they didn’t have the vocabulary immediately at hand to communicate their meaning.

X-Chromo was a genius at this.

Two occasions come immediately to mind. She was about the same age for both.

One morning I was getting her dressed and gave her two choices of an outfit to wear. “This one or this one,” I said as I held up two dresses. “The housekeeping,” little X replied.  I was confused. She pointed to the one she wanted. “The housekeeping,” she repeated. Duh! She attended a center-based daycare /pre-school and the dress she wanted had an apron on it. Aprons were part of the housekeeping center.  She couldn’t think of the word, but she knew where it belonged.

Another morning, we were standing in the kitchen, preparing to leave for the day. “Squirrel!” she started yelling out the window. “Get off my summertime!” Again, it took me a moment. “Summertime” was the swimming pool we had in the back yard while the children were growing up. She couldn’t think of the word, but understood it was something we used only in the summer.

 

 

 

Motherhood Memory: Child Imagery

When my children were young, we periodically took overnight family vacations. One of the first ones was to Niagara Falls. Y-Chromo was about five. This may have been the first time we were away from home for something that wasn’t family-related. Yes, we’d stayed in hotels for Thanksgiving visits, but there was always the distraction of seldom-seen relatives on those occasions.

Y told everyone we met where we were staying: “Family-friendly” name of the chain.  He always seemed to speak in advertising slogans.

The first morning, we were waiting to go to breakfast–my husband was probably in the shower or watching the news or something. Y turned to me. “Mommy, look at how the sunshine is spreading like butter on the wall.”

Whoa.

“Where did you hear that?” I asked him.

“Oh, I just saw the yellow sun on the wall and that’s what I thought of.”

Y inherited his mathiness from his dad’s side of the family, but that imagery came straight from his maternal genes.

 

 

 

Mommy Files: Food by the Color

When Y-Chromo was a baby, I would serve him only apple juice or Juicy Juice. There were two flavors of JJ that he loved, both colored red. At the time, it was easier to ask him if he wanted apple juice or “red” juice than to remember if we had raspberry or cherry juice open. One of my husband’s friends overhead me asking Y if he wanted red juice and commented, “Juice by the color? Like orange juice?”

I also used to make spinach fettucine with pesto sauce. Y-Chromo loved it. One time, I happened to be on the phone with my father when Y finished his serving and wanted more. He started pounding on the tray of his high chair and yelling, “New news.” Or would that be spelled Noo-noos? My dad asked, “What’s he yelling about?” I replied, “He wants more noodles.” (Noodles being easier to say than fettucine.) “Then give the boy more noodles!” Y’s favorite color has always been green, so spinach fettucine with pesto sauce became known as Green Noo-noos and eventually Green Noodles. By the time both children could say “noodles”, I had started to add tri-color cheese tortellini to the mix (the family was growing), but always and forever, in our family, pasta with pesto is known as green noodles.