Of kids and mothers

Today, the child I babysit made a phone call. Here’s why that is, in any way, notable:

He made it on a cell phone.

He made it on his cell phone.

He made it to his friend who was literally 10 feet away.

His friend did not answer his cell phone because he was too busy texting.

In my day… Well, as I told my charge, texting didn’t even exist. I feel so disconnected. Do 4th graders everywhere have cell phones? Or is this a New York thing?

I mean, don’t get me wrong–this kid is amazingly intelligent and precocious and hilarious and awesome–not to mention better at soccer than I ever was/will be. But he’s also 9. His school curriculum still involves decorating flower pots for Mother’s Day. (I then carried around said flower pot for two hours while the kid was at soccer, waiting to run into someone I knew so that I could explain that I was babysitting a plant for the kid I babysit. And yes, I did get to have that moment.–twice.)

Speaking of Mother’s Day, let me talk about how I think I got a bum deal. I mean, I guess I got an awesome deal in that I have a mom and a step-mom, both of whom I love and who raised me pretty equally from age 9 on. So I have two mommies, but without the issues coming with my mother coming out of the closet. Don’t worry, I have plenty of other issues. But: here’s where the bum deal comes in. The two of them share a birthday. So on March 16, I send two heartfelt cards, make two heartfelt phone calls–totally fine, no biggie, cosmic coincidence that I can laugh about. (Fact: my quasi-step-father and my step-mom’s ex-husband also share a birthday. Whoaaa.) But then: just six weeks later, it’s Mother’s Day (make that “Mothers’ Day”). And once more, I try to send two heartfelt cards, two heartfelt phone calls. Here’s where it’s tough, though:

Cards for step-mothers are awful.

At Duane Reade, Rite Aid, even Cardomat, they have one million cards for Mother’s Day. Cards from the cat, from the dog, in English, in Spanish, for sisters, for daughters, for wives, for godmothers, for new mothers, from the both of us (in case you and your siblings are too damn lazy to get multiple cards). And then all of those categories but “funny.” I put “funny” in quotes because in most cases, to actually call them funny would be a disservice to humor.  And they do have cards for step-mothers, too. But the step-mother cards’ preprinted messages fall into two general categories:

1. Thanks for marrying my dad, yo

2. You’re okay, I guess.

In either case, they’re weird and ungenuine and a little passive aggressive, and pretty heavy on the sense of “My dad made me give you this.” So not what I want to convey to my step-mom, who long ago became more to me than “my dad’s wife.” And I can’t just give her a regular Mother’s Day card (as if that even exists, anyway, within all those subcategories–I always give my mom a card from the little kid category, in a total cop-out from having to choose between all the stupid grown-up cards) because those all say MOM or MAMA or MAMI or MOMMY or MA. None say ANNE. None say, STEP-MOM, ONLY HALFWAY IGNORE THAT STEP PART.

What I’m saying is, my family seems to have adjusted to this divorced-but-happy thing. And now, it’s just a matter of waiting for the cardmakers to catch up.

Explore posts in the same categories: Uncategorized