Since I’ve moved over here and become un-google-able, I’ve gotten lots of e-mails and comments (from the other site) from people who’ve never commented before. I can’t imagine reading a blog that allows comments and never ever commenting. That’s just me. I have opinions and love a good discussion/debate, even online. So if you’re one of the people who read and never comment, dammit comment!! Also, I would like to thank the people who do comment. And when there’s disagreement–which there is often–those folks are respectful enough to focus on differing ideas and not trying to denegrate the person whose ideas differ from theirs.
Readers might believe I have a fascination with male-female relations. And to a degree, you’re right. But my fascination extends beyond just men and women. As much as I’m interested in that dynamic, I’m interested more in family relationships. I quite enjoy watching other families. I also enjoy taking stock of parental relationships. Because I can often see exactly how behaviors and concepts are passed from generation to generation.
I talk a good game when it comes to parenting. However, I wonder just how consistent I’ll be. I look at my mom who married and had me very young. She was on her shyt. Stern, yet flexible. She was all about the routine. But nearly 11 years later when she had my brother, she was different. Her house ran totally different by the time I came home after my first semesteer in college. And even right now, if I were to visit her house, I can bet there would be no routine and dust bunnies under sofas and dressers. Shyt that was unacceptable when I was a child!
To come to my home now, and then go to hers, my nana’s or my grandmother’s, you will see that I run my shyt a wee bit differently that they do. Don’t know if it’s because I don’t have children. Don’t know if it’s because I do some things based on logic and not because it’s the way they do it. My paternal grandmother still gets her sheets pressed and still makes a full Sunday dinner–ever Sunday!
Then there’s me! Take for example my bathroom. Y’all know every woman over 45 has those damn toilet top rugs on their toilet lids. You know the ones!!! With the marching rug to go around the top and bottom of the toilet? In case you’re having ttrouble getting a visual, click HERE. I hate those damned things. Hate. I have just cause. When I was young, living in my mother’s house, on Saturday mornings it was house cleaning time. The bathrooms were always my job. After I cleaned the bathrooms, I didn’t want to do anything to ruin them. So for the next few days, when I went to brush my teeth, instead of spitting in the sink, I’d spit in the toilet. I’m not proud of it! It was very lazy of me but I didn’t want to leave any toothpaste in the sink. Once in a while, I’d go to spit in the toilet, and that damn toilet lid would close mid-spit. I’d end up spitting on that damned toilet lid carpet thingy!!! Why would the toilet top close? Because of that damn carpet!!! See! I told you I have cause to hate the toilet dressing/carpet crap!
Speaking of bathrooms, I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now. I remember being little and us having a covered trash can in the bathroom (not always in the powder room). Why doesn’t everyone have a covered can in the bathroom?? Why have I been subjected to seeing used condoms and bloody pads in peoples’ trash?? Why couldn’t they have taken care of that before inviting my ass over and directing me to use that bathroom?? While I’m pleased they are screwing or not pregnant, I’d be more pleased, and less grossed out if I didn’t have to see the evidence. People, please be sure your bathoroom trash can is a covered one!!
Right around Thanksgiving, my mother told me that I’d be hosting Thanksgiving dinner the year I turn 35. She knows she needs to plan this far ahead dealing with me. Please believe, she’s probably told our immediate family, they have crazily put in on their calendars, and will be reminding me of my hosting obligations every year until the big event. Cus for real, this is how my people roll. I told her that was cool. I’d do it. She said it would be fun. Understand that when my mother hosted anything, she was the primary cook. All anyone else, save the grandmothers, were allowed to do was cut onions and celery, or bake desserts. Everything else, my mother did without complaint. Then my mom suggested I do some practice runs. Da hell?? Practice hosting? Surely she had it twisted if she thought I was going to cook all that food, alone. I like to cook. But I also like to enjoy the gathering. I do not like cooking in bulk. Therefore, I would be more than happy to pay for catering. She was undone at first. I told my mother dear that while cooking for 40 people was fun to her, it wasn’t my version of fun. I am pro-family gatherings. But I had to get her to understand that my unwillingness to cook for 40 people had nothing to do with my desire to gather as a family.
On Wednesday when I went grocery shopping, I didn’t give my list a second thought. It wasn’t until I went to the second store that I started to wonder why the hell I was going to these lengths. Cus my momma nem said you cook black eyed peas (and greens) on New Year’s Day and the first store was out of peas. It’s supposed to bring me luck. Nevermind that I have no evidence to support this theory. But hey, my momma nem said it so it must be true–right. I can’t get a straight answer as to if using canned beans will do the trick. Now don’t laugh. My momma also puts a 50 cent piece on her window seal every January 1. It’s supposed to bring money to the house. You don’t move the money either. So right now, I bet she has like six of them on a window somewhere in her house. I’ve never done this because I always forget. Getting a 50 cent piece would involve me actually going IN a bank or WAITING in a drive-thru. Who needs all of that? And let’s not forget, the first person to walk into your home has to be a man. Look people, I don’t make the news I just report it! It has to be a man because of something about your home being protected. Nevermind if the man doesn’t live there. This one I’ve not always been good with either.
This year, even thought I plan to soak my peas like a good lil girl, I’m starting to question all this stuff. Does it mean I’m not gonna try to do the things I can? Hellous nous. I can’t take chances like that! I need luck, money, and my home to be protected! But I’m also to the point where I can’t just willing do things exactly as my mother and her mother before did them simply because that’s how they did it. I’m not saying their methods were wrong. All I’m saying is I’m very interested in the thought processes behind certain things. I’m starting to adjust their ways of doing thing to my personality. Secretly, I think it’s killing my mother. The nana and grandma don’t care because they believe I do no wrong. Gotta love em.
What things have been passed from generation to generation in your family?? Have you ever questioned those traditions?? Have you decided against continuing some traditions? Why? Ohh child!!! Now let me go finish cleaning my house. Y’all know your house has to be spotless at the stroke of midnight!!! Clothes waches, dust gone, pillows fluffed…
No comments:
Post a Comment