The Vine: August 13, 2003
Hey Sars —
I’m writing to A Sad Mom as another mom, of not one, but two five-year-olds. My advice is to give it to the kid straight. It’s better to be honest and straightforward in plain simple language than to try and beat around the bush. Five-year-olds are like bloodhounds when it comes to this kind of thing; they simply don’t know how to let go.
My advice? Give yourself a few days, Sad Mom. When you’ve got it together a bit, sit your kid down and tell her the truth — that you and your ex had good times, that you all had good times, but in the end, that it wasn’t enough. That he was a great dad, and she’s a great kid, but that doesn’t mean that the two of you — you and the ex, that is — were equally compatible. Tell her that you really hope he keeps coming to visit her, but that it doesn’t always work out like that — that people can’t always separate their feelings of sadness for one person from another, even if the second person (i.e. the kid) had absolutely nothing to do with the breakup. Give her lots of love and hugs and reassurances, assure her that life does go on, and even though both of you will be sad and will miss the ex for awhile (because no, he wasn’t a total schmuck, and it’s important to remember that), you have her and she has you, and if you’re lucky, one day you’ll find a guy who’s good for both of you. Tell her that she’s the best, and you’re the best, and you both deserve the best.
Then introduce her to the joys of Ben and Jerry’s.
Just Another Mom
Dear Another Mom,
Good advice. If you don’t give kids specific information, they’ll fill in the gaps you leave with what they want to happen. The average kid is tough and can handle bad news; it’s ambiguity she’s not going to do well with.
At that age, I had a little brother on the way, and I could not wait — at last, a playmate on call 24/7! To their credit, my parents did tell me he wouldn’t make a suitable pillow-fort lieutenant “for a while,” but to a five-year-old, “a while” means “a week, maybe two.” To the adults, it meant “at least four years, six if you want the blanket buttresses done right,” and that’s how it turned out — and I really wish they’d just told me that up front. “Yeah…not to bum you out here, but the baby? Pretty much just crying and spitting up and taking attention away from you until…let me see here…oh, yes. 1982. Sorry, shorty. Here, have some earplugs.”
So, I’d stay away from the “if you’re lucky, one day you’ll find a guy who’s good for both of you” stuff, at least for now. Little kids don’t really understand the concept of the future, of how long it can take to arrive, the same way we do, and it’s better not to allude to a someday you can’t deliver.
But whatever you wind up telling her, it’s going to turn out fine. You love her and you want to protect her from pain, and she’s going to get that, and that’s what’s important. Give yourself some credit.
Dear Sars,
I have somewhat of an issue with which I hope you can help me. (If the writing-to-you part wasn’t already a hint.) It involves a guy, specifically my boyfriend. So what else is new.
Here’s a little background info. We started dating a little over seven months ago, but we’re on our fourth year of friendship. Before me, he (W) had dated my friend/ex-roommate (B) for about a year or year and a half. (A little weird that I’m now with him, I know, but they had been broken up for about eight months before he and I ever got together, or even felt any sort of feelings for one another beyond friendship.) The main reason they broke up (for the final time) was that he felt he couldn’t trust her and that he felt that she didn’t respect herself: while “on a break” for a weekend, she had slept with one or two of her friends/exes and later lied about it to him, claiming that she hadn’t done anything while they were broken up, though she told one of his good friends the truth, and it inevitably got back to him. That, in addition to her tendency to get drunk and obnoxious at parties, her desire to be the constant center of attention at any cost, and a general dislike of her by his friends, pretty much led to their break-up.
For better or worse, B and I have a lot in common. For example, I have a tendency to get topless at parties. I spent several hours hanging out (literally, I suppose) in W’s room last year without my shirt. It was never a sexual thing; it was just me being silly, and we (and whoever else was in there) would have normal, everyday conversations. I asked both B and W if they minded or if it weirded them out or anything, and they assured me that it didn’t, and that they knew I was just having fun and being me. My boyfriend at the time didn’t seem to mind either. I’ve never had any real shame about my body; I’m flat-chested, which used to bother me, but at this point, if someone is going to judge me for my body, then they’re not worth my time. When I was 18 (W, B, and I are all 22/23), I worked as a dancer for a few months, so that also contributes to my lack of issues about being topless. I’m not sure whether W knows about this; B does, and she told at least one of our mutual friends, along with telling W various other details about my past. I’ve never been dishonest about anything with him, but I also feel no need to bring it up, though I would discuss it with him if it ever became a concern.
W and I have never had any real fights. We disagree on things, of course, but it’s mostly petty stuff, like what to watch on TV or the merits of Bud Light over Boone’s. The only real conflict we’ve had was during the week or two of our relationship, when one night I, standing on his third-floor balcony, flashed some guys standing in the parking lot of his former apartment complex. He became somewhat upset, but I got the impression that it wasn’t so much about me flashing as about not being sure what was going on in our relationship. (Remember, he was dating one of his ex’s best friends, so both W and I had some uncertainties about the other’s motives in the beginning, which, after talking it out a few times, we resolved.) Any time W and I have had any sort of question or uncertainty, whether it had to do with our relationship or not, we’ve talked it out.
Okay, now my issue. While in Mexico over spring break with my friend S (with whom W used to be good friends, until he realized she had a tendency to lie about anything and everything, in addition to being a bit of a drama queen), there was a mechanical bull at one of the bars. The bar was empty, aside from two of S’s friends from home (she lives in a border town) and the bartenders, so we decided to get drunk and ride the bull. S negotiated with the bartender that, if I rode the bull topless, I could ride for free. Stupidly and drunkenly, I agreed, but I had a lot of fun up there; S and I even got free t-shirts and shots out of it.
The next night, at a different bar (which was also empty; seems like no one got to Mexico until later in the week), a similar situation arose, and I ended up doing a topless pole dance. Again, it was probably stupid, and I probably sound really trashy, but I was having fun; had there been swarms of people there, I wouldn’t have done it, but I was just dancing for S, two of S’s friends, the bartender, and the deejay. Realizing however that W would probably be less than pleased, we agreed not to tell him or G (S’s boyfriend, one of W’s roommates, and a friend of mine for the past five years), a decision which we reaffirmed after sobering up as well.
Apparently, however, while on the phone with G, S mentioned that some “fucked-up shit” had gone on in Mexico, but she then refused to elaborate when G told her that W was in the room. I only found this out tonight, however, when W, out of the blue, asked me if I had anything to tell him, because he had heard S say that to G. Wanting to be honest, and remembering W and B’s break-up, I decided to confess. (I only told him the bull-riding story; he cut me off before I could finish, which may or may not be a good thing.) I got pretty much the same reaction as he had given B: why would you do something like that, doesn’t it make you feel cheap, don’t you and S remember how hurt I was last summer, I’m not happy that heard about it from another source and had to ask you about it. I apologized profusely and admitted it was stupid, but he said he needed a chance to think and that he had a headache and was going to bed, but that we’d talk tomorrow.
I don’t know what, if anything, S told G; G asked me yesterday if anything shady had gone on in Mexico, and I told him a random funny story about a misunderstanding with the border guard, but I didn’t think any of the above was any of his business. Whether or not G knows anything, I wanted W to hear about it from me and not from S or G. I guess I could have prevaricated or attributed everything to S’s habit of the same, but somehow that seemed worse at the time, and it’s too late to recant now anyway.
I’m not looking for reassurance that even though I fucked up it will all be okay now that I confessed to him (and to you); I want to know if there’s anything I can do (short of finding a time machine) or say to make the situation better. I talked to B earlier, and she said to remind W that it wasn’t about me not respecting myself, but instead about me having fun and just being myself, but I’m not sure if advice from his ex-girlfriend is necessarily the best; after all, she’s his ex for a reason. I don’t want to push the situation (force him to talk, shower him with stupid tokens of affection, cry, et cetera), because I know that will only make him retreat into himself more, but I want him to be able to trust me. I know I probably don’t deserve that right now, or for a while, but I never wanted to do anything to hurt him, and now I have. Sars, do you have any advice of anything I can do (or should definitely avoid doing, besides taking off my shirt)? Right now, all I can think of doing is just giving him the time and space he needs and, when he’s ready to talk, being honest about it with him, but I don’t even know if that’s the right course.
I’m sorry for sounding like long-winded white trash, but other than B, there’s no one I feel like I can talk to about this without feeling like I’m going behind his back or airing our dirty laundry in public (we hold many of our friends in common, to varying degrees of closeness, but it was like that before we got together; it’s not a 90210 thing where we’ve all slept together; we’ve just known each other throughout our college years), so I’m hoping you, as an impartial observer (yes, I realize you only got my side), can tell me what, if anything, I can do at this point.
Sign me,
Feeling like (bull)shit
Dear Feeling,
No, you can’t do anything. You already did it — you already took your top off, and you already failed to tell W the story yourself for whatever reason. You can’t go back in time and change that. W wants a single night of space. It’s not a lot for him to ask. Give it to him.
Use the night to do a little thinking of your own. Start with the toplessness. What’s up with that? I went through my own “shirt, schmirt” phase back in college, and it’s pretty obvious in retrospect that I did it to get attention.
I think that’s why you do it, too. “No I don’t! I told you, I don’t care!” Yeah, you do. If you didn’t care, you’d have just told W what happened in Mexico instead of pointedly omitting it. I mean, either 1) you genuinely just feel pretty free about your breasts, but you’re afraid W won’t approve and it’ll become a fundamental incompatibility between you, so you don’t bring it up; or 2) you go topless all the time as a way of unconsciously sabotaging the relationship, so that if W doesn’t want to stay with you, you can tell yourself it’s because he’s a prude and not because you didn’t measure up in some other way. I think it’s #2.
It’s not the toplessness itself. It’s that you do all that protesting too much that it’s not a big deal, and yet you didn’t want W to know about it. Ask yourself what’s going on there, and when he wants to talk, talk to him — honestly.
I know you’re a baseball fan, and despite your choice in teams, I’ll respect your advice under the circumstances. (Ow. Stop! Okay, I take it back, already!)
Anyway, next week, for the first time, I’m traveling out of town to see my beloved Dodgers play — but not in Los Angeles. It’ll be the first time I’ve been the “enemy fan” at a game, and for the time being, I intend to whoop and holler the way I would at a home game.
My questions to you are, have you ever been in this situation, and how would you recommend behaving in order to properly celebrate your team’s accomplishments without getting slaughtered by the hometown crowd?
Thanks!
True Blue Guy
Dear Blue,
[Clonk.] Twelve games out of first and you still talk to me like that?
I have found myself in that situation — hell, I’ve found myself at Yankee Stadium in the company of a man in a Red Sox hat AND a Tomato Nation shirt, and we both survived somehow, so I don’t think you need to worry. The object is to root for your team, not against the home team. Use that as a guideline and you shouldn’t run into any trouble. Your money is as good as theirs.
Sars, you rock.
First, thank you for answering T’s Mom so appropriately.
Second, I was hoping for some advice on a relatively unimportant issue, but one that is vexing my ego. I recently became a stay-at-home mom. If you had told me ten years ago that I was going to have kids, I would have laughed in your face. If you had also told me that I was going to stay home with them, I would have probably spit in your face. I had a brain and I was going to use it! But then I met and married the most awesome guy, who would be (and in fact became) an incredible father. We tried for five years to have kids, and finally did with the help modern technology. I decided to put the career on hold and stay home with the new baby. Why? Five years of infertility changed my mind about a lot of issues and, thankfully, we can afford it.
However, this new job is kicking my butt. I had no idea how hard it would be, but that’s not the problem. My problem is that now when I meet new people or even get together with old friends, they treat me as if I couldn’t possibly have anything interesting to say. I fully admit that much of my self-worth came from being the “smart one” all through my life, and I had a very impressive job and career path prior to motherhood. I don’t want to come off as a whiner because really, I’m getting my just deserts for thinking so poorly of mothers before this, but one of the downsides of staying at home is the lack of adult conversation on a regular basis.
When meeting new people and telling them what I “do,” should I say I had impressive job X but I’m now staying at home? I’m not trying to impress anyone; I’m just tired of people assuming I must be an idiot because of what I do. And with the old friends, should I call them on how they’ve begun to treat me differently? I know some of it is probably guilt because they have their kids in daycare, but I personally have no problem with that. I’m certainly no one to judge, but the assumption that I disapprove is really starting to irk me. Part of me wants to be a complete bitch and remind certain friends that I dragged their asses through calculus in college so they shouldn’t be looking down their noses at me. Also, I almost never talk about my kids unless asked, so I don’t think it’s that my conversational skills have taken a nose dive, though I could be wrong. If anything, I’ve gotten to see and do lots of cool, cultural things around our city now that I’m not tied to a desk that I think would be interesting to share.
Your opinion would be greatly appreciated,
Ms. Mom
Dear Mom,
Then share those things. Who’s stopping you? And what makes you think others “assume” anything about you — do you assume that, yourself? Or have they actually said as much? Because it sounds to me like it’s you who kind of has a problem with what you do.
If anyone has made a specific comment or spoken dismissively to you, it’s certainly within your rights to correct them — to let them know that you do still live in the world and have opinions, that you don’t disapprove of their child-care choices, that you in fact have a “real” job even if it’s not outside the home, whatever. But if it’s just a sense you get from people, it could come from your own defensiveness about it.
You might try clearing the air about the issue with your closer friends, but really, people will think what they want to think, and if it’s people you meet at a cocktail party, who cares? If they want to see things that narrowly, it’s their loss.
Hey, Sars!
When I was a kid, a stray cat wandered into my neighbour’s house and had kittens on his kitchen floor. My neighbour kept the girl kitty, and we got the boy. Flash forward nine years; we’re moving house and we have a nine-year-old cat and we’re not sure whether to bring him with us or not.
Before you denounce us as unclean, we should probably explain that we wouldn’t be abandoning the cat. We own a plot of land behind our current house, and Tigger (who has always been an outdoor kitty) has been living pretty much exclusively on this land for the past few years, ever since we had the temerity to introduce puppies into his previously quiet and ordered home.
Tigger enjoys it up there. He spends his days sunbathing or sleeping in the greenhouse and his nights hunting. We’ve even taken to feeding him up there so he can avoid the dogs altogether, and in return, he keeps the birds off our vegetables. It’s a good deal.
We’re staying in the area when we move, but we’ll be on the other side of a busy road. Should we take Tigger with us and run the risk of his being hit by a car on his way back to the greenhouse, or should we leave him in the vegetable garden and just go over there twice a day to feed him and check if he’s okay? Keeping him indoors is not an option even if it weren’t for the dogs; he’d be miserable.
Our third — maybe — option is to make our next door neighbour adopt him back again. Only he hasn’t spoken to us since we sold up, and we think he may be mad at us for abandoning him to new neighbours who will be undertaking extensive building work.
Thanks!
Concerned cat owner
Dear Concerned,
Christ. You don’t get to give back a cat after NINE YEARS. He’s your cat now. You will have to take him with you, and you will have to make the necessary adjustments to keep him from getting run over. It’s what cat owners do. Do it.
Sars,
Explain men to me, please. Okay, okay — just explain the one, because I’m so puzzled.
There’s (as you might guess) this guy. Younger (by a lot — 11 years, to be exact) and very cute. I’ve had a crush on him for awhile. We’re both dancers, and have seen each other at the dance studio occasionally for the last six months or so. We talk, we dance, we flirt a bit, but when I handed over a business card and there was no follow-up call or email, I figured he just wasn’t interested in anything outside the studio.
A few weeks ago, he “confided” that he had had a dream about me. An oral sex dream, to be specific. The details were stammered out (complete with blushing and avoidance of the word “blowjob”) over the course of several dances, so even if the initial “I had a dream” thing was an unintentional blurt, he had plenty of time to make up something else before the next dance. I have to conclude that he deliberately told me the details…but why, Sars? After all this, he left without saying goodbye. If he was hoping for a hummer in the parking lot after studio hours, seems like he’d have made a better attempt to seal the deal.
So. What’s this guy about, eh? I haven’t seen him since, so I can’t ask him myself. I’ve tried soliciting opinions from male friends, but they get all hung up on the fact that he actually SAID THAT TO ME, and then they’re kind of worthless because they’re torn between marvelling at the situation and admiring the guy’s courage.
Signed,
Dreamgirl
Dear Dream,
He’s socially inept. Not much to it beyond that, I don’t think. I suspect he hoped for a similar confidence from you in return, not understanding that he’d gone from zero to TMI in about five seconds and that it doesn’t really work that way outside of porno movies, and when you didn’t respond in kind, he bolted.
At least now you know he’s too young for you emotionally.
[8/13/03]
Tags: boys (and girls) cats etiquette friendships kids
