Monday, October 17, 2005

Note to self; the children need to get their own life

There are days when I wonder who is the “real parent” in the house and Saturday night was one of them. I don’t venture out much socially. I became a single parent while the children were so young that I have never really had the means nor opportunity to do much socializing outside the home. Between raising my children and working, I have had very little time or inclination to go out and do a lot of the things that grown-ups do when left to their own devices unsupervised by children.

My mother keeps warning me that I need to get a life independent of the children now that they are all in their teenage years and suggests that I join some kind of a widow/widowers support group and widen my circle of acquaintances. My father has on occasion suggested that I am doing everything all wrong (usually after one of the children has uttered something he thinks is particularly republican in nature and therefore offensive) and I should learn how to do it the right way by joining a single parent support group. Of course, what else would one expect from a “new age” psychologist?

It’s not that I don’t have friends who are past the age of majority, I do, but being a friend to me has meant that you keep up with my schedule and most entertaining has been done in my home or having the tribe descend en mass at yours. Almost all of my friends have been so for twenty years or more and I think the children think of them more as family rather than Momma’s friends.

A few weeks ago I received an invitation to a movie event minus the children and decided I would accept it and venture out. Saturday evening was m-night and before I ventured out the Last Amazon insisted I sit down while she lectured me on what was appropriate social behaviour. I was not to discuss politics or religion and I was not to challenge anyone’s views no matter how outrageous or reprehensible I found them to be. As she said, one does not make friends by telling someone they are nitwit. Furthermore, I was not to be annoying by talking all through the movie like I do when we watch television or go to the movies. No one likes that she tells me. And I really should reconsider changing out of my “Spirit of America” t-shirt as so many Canadians would find it offensive, but I couldn’t see the harm as I was going to see Red Dawn. She totally missed the irony being born a decade too late.

After the Last Amazon was finished with me, the youngest felt the need to add his two cents. No more than 3 drinks maximum as he didn’t want a lush for a mother, and if anyone was rude to me, I was not to hesitate but leave immediately. Most importantly of all, I was not to fight. No hitting, no biting, or slapping and remember my manners at all times. But I wasn’t out of clear yet. I still had to get by the Man. He insisted on having the address and checked that my cell phone was on and fully charged. He tried to make a case for coming with me just in case he had to tell the police how to get there and I was not to stay out past 1 am. Furthermore, on my way home I should call him when I got to the subway as it wasn’t safe for a woman to be out by herself at night.

I finally got out the door and I found it ironic that not even as a teenager did I have to run such a gauntlet or received so much advice. All of which makes me speculate what the children would think if they ever learned that I use to go out to clubs and dance literally all night before they were born. Good thing, they missed the stories about the leg thingy. I had a great time. I didn’t finish my second drink, nor did I get into a slugging match with anyone even though religion and politics were mentioned and I managed to walk through the door at home without the need of a 13 year old male escort. But the night was not officially over until I got lectured by the Man for not calling him, and I had to pass the youngest’s breath test, and the Last Amazon had to have a blow-by-blow account of the evening. I really appreciate being loved and valued by the tribe but it does make me think that I am not going to enjoy my Depends Age all that much if they remain as pushy as they are now. Note to daughter: I am not the only one who talks all through the movies.

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