The Unspoken Goal was a Fairytale

 She couldn't figure it out.  She had read all the stories. She watched all the TV shows that tidied up the conflict, 30 minutes for the Brady Bunch or Bewitched, or within an hour on Love Boat or Fantasy Island.  On the here and there weekends with her dad and his girlfriend, she constantly had her nose in her copies of Grimm's Fairy Tales or Hans Christian Anderson's Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty and Peter Pan ALL had happy endings.  

During her formative years her preschool, day care, and babysitters added tragic tales to the stories that interrupted  her fairy tale day to day.  You know,  before the prince finds her and whisks her off to the perfect and fanciful rest of her life.  Day to day was mediocre.  There was loneliness and drama and no one to trust.  Evil witches and fiery dragons were in the corners of all the pages.  And as in the fairy tales, mother or father was always far away, dead, or somehow burdened with other cares.  In her day to day, mom worked full time at a desk job and concentrated on the boyfriend, and dad flew airplanes and concentrated on girlfriends.  It is still a wonder how she viewed any marriage as a positive thing.  She didn't really KNOW anybody who was married, or whose parents were married, until she was almost through elementary school.  Even as she finished high school she could count the marriages she was aware of on one hand...

There were boys.  She did really liked the boys. But she was awkward and lacked any shred of self esteem.  Some of that mediocre day to day in those day care and babysitter situations...things happened.  Things that shouldn't have happened to a lonely, awkward little girl.  One family was loving, but clearly their own children came first.  Another family had a 19 year old son with a large Playboy and Penthouse collection, and offered to play with her one on one ALOT.  (As an adult she would remember and wonder why didn't anyone question the close "friendship" of a 19 year old and first grader?)  One home day care had over 25 children from the hours of 3 to 6pm, and employed the older kids to feed and change the younger ones.  Other day care kids were mean.  

One time, a group of boys cornered her at the day care playground and lifted up the skirt of her favorite denim "circle" skirt dress with the 70's multi color trim on all the edges, to see her panties.  She ran to tell the teacher, the boys were collected and they all had to sit out for recess on the black top.  There was some satisfaction for her in that.  But, then one of the boy's older sister challenged that her brother was involved.  Then the teacher accused her of making the skirt lifting story up all together!  Intimidated and flustered she couldn't articulate or remember exactly which boys were involved.  She ended up sitting out recess for punishment while the boys all ran free.  She NEVER forgot that.  She was 4 years old.  From that day on, she lived in terror of the "they will wash your mouth out with soap in the kitchen" stories (punishment for swearing).  She also never slept during naptime.  Who knew what would happen if she let down her guard?

By 10 or 11 years old, she was begging her overworked mom to allow her to just stay home alone.  They struck a deal and that is how she joined the latch key kid generation.  Walk home, call mom to let her know you made it alive.  Hang out until she got home at 5:30.  She used this time to finish homework, lay around, watch a ton of sitcom tv, and get into just about everything in the house.  She had a penchant for eating sugar by the spoonful right out of the Tupperware container.  She also loved to try and bake things; often mixing up the baking powder for the baking soda and ending up with something inedible.  She made messes, lots of them and she couldn't be bothered to clean them up.  She'd play dress up in mom's dress with the silver sparkles and the high heeled boots.  

"WHY can't you be home with a plate of cookies like the other moms?" and "How come you can't make me a brother or sister?" It was as if she lived in her own little universe, because she did.  WHY couldn't her mother make things more interesting and comfortable, huh?  They lived in a string of apartments and rental homes all over the little southern California beach town.  Instability WAS the norm.  

One day, playing with her  Barbie dolls, she audibly set a sad scenario:  "....Oh no!  The prom dance is coming up and I can't go because nobody asked me..."  Suddenly her usually benign mother burst through the door with a startling bang. Mother grabbed her by her shoulders as if to force feed a lesson. "Do NOT wait for a boy to ask YOU.  You just GO to the Prom!!!"  She was intimidated by mother's tone and intensity.

Come to think of it, all of her mom's lessons were a little...visual.  "The talk" included a detailed drawing on the wall chalkboard in the bedroom.  Fallopian tubes and wiggly sperm were described in very detailed drawings on that chalkboard.  Seemed all plumbing and mechanics and none of that fairy tale or tv sitcom fantasy love.  Later, she would ask mom why the boy meets girl and love precedes sex talk never happened.  Her mother replied, "I did tell you that you needed a license to drive that car!"  Over 40 years later and having driven the car, she still didn't get the analogy...

Yes, diving into fairy tales was the answer.  Those browbeaten beauties with inadequate parents and families always found their way.  There was always a prince to save her.  Disney movies followed the same recipe.  There was even singing, lots of cuddly animals, and magic to boot.  ....And they lived "happily ever after...."

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

She Jumps on the Rollercoaster, Part 1

She was stretched thin.  As if caring for her three, active children wasn't excuse enough; they were preparing to put their historic home on the market.  The previous few weeks had been spent painting and staging the large, family home...originally built in the 1840's.  The "COMING SOON!" for sale sign had been in the yard for 2 weeks, to generate interest in her home.  It had worked, and they had two showings first thing the next day.  Problem was, there was just no way to make the old house look....well, new.  Her husband worked long and odd hours, often traveling.  Her 3 kids were all under the age of 8, and not exactly "helpful" in keeping the home in order.  The youngest wasn't even sleeping through the night, still waking half way through to cry her way into momma's bed.   As dinner approached, she thought about how she hadn't planned anything for dinner.  She also thought about what a mess it would make.  She called her ...
Read more

The Electric Shock, Final part of four.

    They both fell into separate beds, allowing exhaustion to take over.   It had been a marathon day.   She herself hadn’t slept more than 4 hours in a row since she had stepped off the airplane 2 days earlier.   Grandma, in her early 80s, had endured the long road trip to see her son’s decline.   The sunlight had brought the 8:00am meeting.   They all knew what the meeting was for.   As his only child, she had won a spot on this particular committee.   Grandma was invited in as well.   He had married his longtime girlfriend, about two years earlier, was the only other invitee.   She arrived at the hospital at 7:55 with her entourage in tow.   Somehow, the wife’s sister and nephew were also ushered into the small room for support.   It was made clear as the meeting began that she as his daughter, and wifey would be the decision makers in the room.   Everyone else was just there to support.   The conversation...
Read more