Saturday, April 11, 2009

Eggs, Ice and Tears

Suicide...

Suicide...by Francisquini



I can remember sitting on a brown chicken egg. I know that sounds a little too strange but I was four years old. My teacher in preschool had an incubator with chicken eggs so that we could what them hatch. That was one of that was the coolest thing I'd ever seen. I've always been an animal lover; so to be able to take the place of a hen and birth a baby chicken would be a the best.


See I'm not an ice queen! Ice Queen one of several nicknames that my mother gave me that made me smile: Mickey Mouse, peanut , etc… I blame the nick name on the movie Brian’s Song, the highly esteemed 70s tear jerker. My mom bawled at the end of it and I did not share a tear and I guess she noticed. I was born and raised on home grown tomatoes and soap operas. I absolutely love high drama but never seemed to have the same reaction that my mother did. I thought it was cool that my mother cried at the end of Ice Castles, Imitation of Life and Terms of Endearment because I felt the emotion of those heart wrenching movies , but crying wasn’t a natural reaction for me. When I considered the fact that maybe my response was not heart felt enough my mind quickly chimed in, telling me that these were actors that were still alive and that I could enjoy the movie just as much as my mother without Kleenex.


I don’t remember crying that much as a child. There are only a couple of incidents I can remember, but my mom loves to recount this particular incident. Again I was about four and my mother was downstairs in the kitchen cooking dinner and I was upstairs watching TV in my parents’ room. All of a sudden she heard me scream and cry at the top of my lungs; she ran upstairs at top speed. When she burst in the room she found me sitting upright in front of the TV. Confused as to what could cause this outburst she asked me what was wrong? Struggling to catch my breath and slow down my tears I heaved until I could yell out, “Boomer doesn’t have a home!”, and I continued to cry.


Just a little background Boomer, much like Benji, was a movie about a dog that some how got separated from his family and was combing the streets alone without anyone to love him. The concern and compassion that drove my mother up a flight of stairs in a heart beat to save her daughter from a life and death situation immediately evaporated and was replaced with temporary disdain. She’d probably never seen me emote that much before in my entire life. She couldn’t help but to remember us sitting side by side watching Brain’s Song without one single expression of sorrow, but without effort or restraint I cried as if I'd been run over by a truck when watching a movie about a dog; he was still alive and had a guaranteed happy ending.

boomer__welsh_corgi_by_joshshot

One day I opened the fridge and found a brown chicken egg. Since I thought all eggs were white I concluded that this egg had a baby chicken in it. I informed my mother of this fact; although she did not seem to agree she allowed me to take it upstairs to hatch it. So with two friends in tow I went out on the porch were it was warm a squatted down like a good chicken mom. I was pretty strong kid and had nice thigh muscles so I did not foresee any problem; I can’t remember how long I lasted but the story ended with a cracked shell and yolk spread out on the porch floor. Although I took the responsibility for not saving the chick I had matured since the Boomer incident. My mother’s reaction taught me that all lives are important, whether it’s as a fictional person or dog, or an unborn egg. So with grace and discernment I did not cry over spilled yolk but I rejoiced at my Christmas present that year (a puppy).



Thanks mommy for understanding me!


Please share some special stories about your childhood.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Peer Pressure from Grandma



Peer pressure is a part of childhood. Kids want so badly to impress their friends that they will participate in activities that scare or make them uncomfortable. Can you remember those days, going to a party and being surprised by a circle of your friends passing around a joint? Going to a boy's house and being pressured to engage in sexual activity before your ready. Well I can, in fact I can remember the first time I felt peer pressure.

My family was a having a get together/party over my aunt's house. There are a few people in my family that have the title aunt or uncle or cousin attached to their name. So with such a huge family I'm not sure exactly I'm related to everyone but I kind of like it that way. I loved our family get together, they were so much fun. The kids would run around saying the darnedest things and the adults would sit around saying the darnedest things. I feel in the middle. In my family, due to my parents having me when they were young, there was no one that was in my age group. Most of the kids I could babysit and most of the adult conversation were monitored until they just felt the need to kick me out.

My grandma was the coolest; she always included me in the adult conversations. My grandmother always did whatever it took to make me laugh. She is funny, sweet natured and down to earth. I could talk to her about boys, the frustrations my parents caused me and about any hope and dream I had. She was the person that let me know that it okay to think for myself and to comfortably talk about mature subjects instead of pretending I was too young to know what people were talking about. At the party I was alone with grandma in the den; I stood and talked to her as she sat in a recliner, sipping an alcoholic drink. I could tell she was a little more smiley than usual but I would not go so far as to say she was buzzed, she defiantly was not drunk. So I was shocked when she motioned for me to come closer and then to take a sip of her drink.

Confused and flustered I furrowed my brow and said "No grandma". She said come on just a little sip, no one will no. I couldn't believe my ears. I think I was 15 at the time. I had a few friends that started drinking, even a couple of friends in middle school that brought liquor to school, but they never offered me any. As a kid I thought that you should do what your elders tell you to do, but I also believed at 15 I should not drink. And why was she offering this to me anyway. Was this just a trick to see if I would give into pressure? I was a little curious about how it would taste and how it would make me feel. Adults always seemed to have more fun when they started drinking. Still I knew that it did not make since for me to drink, even a sip. I felt uncomfortably rebellious but still persistently I told my grandmother no, kissed her cheek and walked away.

I have to tell you that I felt so proud of myself for that. When I was 16, I went to a party and the kids were drinking. Instead of drinking I danced and enjoyed myself. I also look at the way everyone's behavior changed when they started drinking. One image engrained in my mind was of a girl in a tight dress. She was dancing with a boy that was standing behind her, grabbing her ample bosoms and lifting them up and down to the beat. I was no angel but thought that was a bit much for me. Still no one pressured me to drink. The first time I felt pressured wasn't until I was 18; I was hanging out with some friends and every there was drinking and smoking weed, everyone except for me. My friends tried to talk me into drinking but I did not feel any desire to impress anyone. I was having just as good of at time as everyone else; in fact some people thought I was drunk because I was so silly. Because I abstained I was able to be there for my friend, holding her hair back when she got sick to her stomach. I was also able to say no to sex with my ex. I t felt great to able to go home that night guilt free and tell my mom that I had a good time without feeling like I was lying to her.

Again I'm no angel. I did not make it to the legal drinking age, but I did wait until I was 20 years and 7 months old. When I found out that I could drink without losing all self control all bets were off and I drank more than I should have, but I'm proud that I waited so long. I truly believe that because my grandma pressured me first I was able to deal with peer pressure. I've never asked her what her motivates were that day but regardless of her intentions I give her the credit for helping me think under pressure and avoid addiction that griped a few of my friends that stared indulging too soon. You may not agree with my grandma's actions but you'll have to take my word for it, that her love is intense and that she always has my best interest at heart. Besides, cookie cutter grandma's are over rated, I'll take my peer pressure grandma any day.




How did you deal with pressure when you were a kid?